January 31, 2007
Dateline: 19th October 2170
As Troy entered his home dwelling, it was difficult to miss the delivered package - in fact he nearly bumped into it. It looked similar to the old two seater sofa, popular in the latter part of the twentieth century, but had the addition of a clear perspex roof and a complicated looking control panel. Stenciled on the roof was the manufacturer’s hologram together with the words “STT - Specific Time Transporter”.
“Hi Talia,” Troy shouted to his wife as he looked up from the machine. “It’s arrived I see.”
“Hi darling. Yes, it came today. What on earth is it?”
“It’s a project we are working on at the lab. Specific time transportation. This is the prototype. It’s ready to test now and I thought you might like to be a part of the trial run! You know you always wanted to find out what it was like in the 1960’s with all that free love and sex - well, now we can do it! This machine will take us anywhere, or rather any TIME, we want to go. I’m sure that you can get up to
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January 31, 2007
Alistair and Katie had been sleeping together for a week. They weren’t really going out; it was more like friends with benefits. Alistair had been a virgin and Katie had deliberately seduced him, not that he minded, and in the past week he’d had sex more times and more adventurously than most of his friends who’d lost their virginity three or four years previously.
She was being very thorough in her education, showing him exactly how many positions there were to have sex in. After the very gentle, vanilla sex they’d started with, she began to spice things up a little, letting him take her from behind, fuck her standing up, in public places and they’d even tried anal sex – a first for both of them.
It was very strange, she loved to seduce shy, innocent boys and take their virginity, but what she fantasised about was being dominated by a confident, sexual man who knew what she wanted before she did and pushed her boundaries a little, instead of her always being the experienced one in control.
Alistair
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January 31, 2007
This story takes place before events described in “Can I Get A Ride? Pts 1 & 2″ Author does not condone the use of mind-altering substances for the base pursuit of “getting high”.
*
She had a crush on a boy. She knew that he was probably no good for her. Her mama had warned her about boys like him, attractive in that scruffy way, leather jacket over white tee shirt, cigarette behind his ear, baggy blue jeans. She had been warned, repeatedly, that boys like him would only break her heart, and wouldn’t she please just pick a boy who was going to be a doctor or a lawyer or an accountant or some other insufferably boring thing. That was probably why she had such trouble concentrating, when she knew he was sitting right behind her in their Introduction to American Literature class.
Their professor was assigning a new book for them to read, and an essay on it due on Monday. Since it was Wednesday, Lauren didn’t feel that it was enough time. Professor Crowe dismissed them before she had a chance to compla
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January 31, 2007
It was my wife’s 35th birthday and things hadn’t been going too well between us recently. There were problems at work or problems with money, either way the stress was getting to us. And there were problems in bed. Not that I couldn’t get it up or anything of that nature, it was more of the ‘I’m tired’, or ‘not tonight’ type variety. Basically, things were getting old and stale. We’d been married almost ten years and it just wasn’t happening enough, if you know what I mean. Actually, it wasn’t happening at all, not for two months.
But tonight was my wife’s birthday and I was taking her and her best friend Susan out for dinner and dancing. I was secretly hoping that my wife would get drunk enough and be willing to fuck. The last time had been over two months ago and I’d practically raped her just to get my dick wet.
Both girls were dressed to the nines in sheer low cut dresses. Both drank a lot and danced and our conversation got more and more sexual. Susan was complaining that her husband Dan h
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January 31, 2007
Hello, my name is Clara, and I am going to tell you about the time I learned what it really was to be fucked. I was adopted at age 7, by my mother Nina, and now I am eighteen… On the say of my 18th birthday, my mother threw me a huge bash, invited all the family and my friends, and let me tell you, it was something I will never forget.
On the day of my 18th birthday, it was hot and humid, the kind of humid that makes your clothes stick to your skin. I came out of my room dressed in a white cotton midriff, no bra, and white jean shorts, almost so short they barely covered my firm ass cheeks, with a nice bright red satin thong underneath…. It was sure to tempt my boyfriend when I opened my legs and he could see my mound covered in inviting red under my shorts. I strolled into the kitchen, where mom was busy getting food ready, and propped my ass against the table, looking everything over. She glanced my way, shook her head and I smirked. I knew she had given up on the lectures about how a sixteen year old
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January 31, 2007
Joel McCabe sat in the armchair contemplating that fateful evening three weeks earlier that had turned his entire world upside down. Messages he dared not answer had stacked up on the telephone, flashing red alert, and he’d barely eaten in days. Sure, in thirty colourful years on earth he’d gotten into a few scrapes before, yet never as almighty a mess as this. Though he lived and breathed as any normal man, effectively Joel was dead.
Gambling had played a big part of his life in recent years, Texas Hold’em helping to supplement his meagre earnings as a barman. This time, however, he’d latched onto the wrong crowd, stepping outside his usual comfort zone. Of course, they allowed him to win the small early pots, reeling him in like a minnow, but inevitably as the stakes were raised quickly things got out of hand, way out of hand. So much so that there was no way Joel could ever repay the debt. And what made matters worse was that the money was owed to one of London’s biggest psychos, Mickey Standish.
Th
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January 31, 2007
He was waiting for her when she got home. The house had been in complete darkness. The alarm system had failed her so many times recently and she had forgotten to complain to the security company. With her working long hours at the nursing home she never seemed to remember. She walked into the kitchen, swearing as the outside sensor light had not activated itself. Things had been harder since Nick had moved out. He had looked after all the house maintenance and everything had worked like clockwork till he left her for that slut Sandy.
Sandy, her closest friend till she had discovered the pleasures of Nick’s fantastic prick and the tongue he gave. Stacey’s pussy tightened and contracted just thinking of how well Nick’s tongue fitted into her pussy and satisfied her. Again and again and again. No other man had made her scream and beg and moan till she came against his mouth and tongue as he had. And what a bonus that he had such a big dick too, his girth was so large that she found it a stretch to fit him
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January 31, 2007
We lay there quietly, each lost in our own thoughts. I was wondering why Jake was waiting about having an orgasm. I was missing the feeling of his cock jerking and throbbing as it shot his cum into my pussy or mouth. Even though I was the submissive partner in this, it gave me a sense of power to know that I was the main cause of the trembling and weakening of his knees when he was shooting his cum into my mouth, or the complete exhaustion of his strength as he fucked my pussy so fast, then he was too weak to move as his cock jerked and throbbed inside my cunt. Of course, it was pleasurable to me, also, to squeeze his spurting cock with my pussy muscles, milking the large shaft of its juices. It is important to a woman to know that she has satisfied the male in meaningful way.
But, this was unusual for Jake to give me so many climaxes and he has not had one, yet. I began to roll my hips very slowly as we continued to tongue kiss, Jakes arms around me, holding me tight against him. I could feel his cock shaft
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January 31, 2007
We were going on another “boring date.” We would go out to eat at a cheap restaurant, then dancing, and home sometimes to get it on or Dan would just pass out. Our relationship was on the slippery slope, and you could say going downhill fast. We have had the same argument about doing something different, most every time we went for a night out.
I got ready to go out for the night. I wore my jeans with a black leather belt, my boots, a tube top, and an open vest. Dan wore a grubby work T-shirt and dirty torn jeans. We went out dancing, mostly I danced, and Dan watched and drank, and drank. By the time 10:30 rolled around, he was pretty well drunk. I did not drink much, since I figured that I would be doing the driving as usual.
During the seemingly long drive home, there was a park with a small pond, the grass covered in a light fog. Perfect for a romantic walk, so I thought. The moon was shining brightly.
“Dan, my love, we are going to the park over there. Let’s go for a walk and find the pond that
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January 31, 2007
I know from your e-mails that you’ve enjoyed reading Joel’s misadventures as much as I have writing them. So, for the last time…
*
Just two hours from death, nothing could be further from the mind of Joel McCabe. He had three women – and not just any three women, but the sexy wife AND gorgeous young daughters of arch nemesis Mickey Standish – under his complete control. Each in various states of undress, they were Joel’s toys to do with as he pleased.
Eighteen-year-old Barbie lookalike Tiffany Standish was clasped tight with her back to his chest, the kitchen knife threatening to sever an artery should any of the women step out of line. Tiffany’s white tank top discarded, Joel amused himself by playing with a pair of peach sized breasts that were like two stress balls. The pleated blue skirt remained in place, from time to time riding up Tiffany’s thigh when Joel’s hands squeezed those sweet breasts and caused her back to arch. Joel’s armoury was complemented by a buckled leather belt that he
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