Shelter from the Snow

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I had been brave, testing myself, to have come back to Boston for my year’s sabbatical from Yale University. In earlier days I had come here as a history instructor at Boston University, straight out of Dartmouth, and I’m afraid I sowed my oats a bit too openly and with male students at the university, which won me an inglorious retreat to the Midwest for more than a decade until memories cleared.

A young, vulnerable eighteen- or nineteen-year-old male student had become my fetish. I was barely twenty-four at the time myself, so the age difference wasn’t as great as it would be now, coming back to Boston. But I can’t say that I had ended my fetish or didn’t feel it particularly tempting now that I was back here. A nineteen-year-old boy hit my sweet spot–a small boy of stature, preferably, who was perfectly formed, willowy, lithe, flexible, yielding, but who was sweet, only beginning to ponder his sexuality and preferences. It was a risk coming back to where I had started with this, but I was an American Revolutionary War scholar and historical fiction novelist. There was no better place to do that than here in Boston, at the Massachusetts Historical Society near the Back Bay on Boylston Street.

I thought I was up to the challenge to curb my desire for young men. But perhaps I came here because I wanted to fail.

My days were spent in one of the reading rooms at the society’s building, where I had obtained privileges to peruse original sources for a novel I planned to title “Howe’s Retreat,” the next in a series of novels I was writing on the siege of Boston by the British in 1775. The series would conclude with the lifting of the siege when General Washington managed to bring in artillery under Henry Knox to take the high ground on Dorchester Heights, forcing a British retreat under British general Howe in 1775.

So, my days were being spent in the society’s reading room and my evenings spun out at the apartment I’d rented across the Back Bay Fens park area in the Boylston Apartments close to Fenway Park. It was a lonely–but I told myself a satisfying–life. To get from one to the other, a distance of several blocks, I usually walked through the Boylston section of the park.

I told myself I walked through the park, it being the most direct route, but not the only one I could have taken, to take in the beauty of nature. But I suspect I really did it for the temptation. The park was used by homeless men, many of them young men. I was propositioned each time I walked through the park. I didn’t succumb to the temptation, priding myself on my ability to resist, but I didn’t stop putting myself in the position to be propositioned by young men, many of them eighteen or nineteen from the look of them. Somehow, they had perceived my sexual interests. I kept assessing them on how well they’d clean up, which, in itself, indicated my resolve wasn’t all that solid.

I had reached my late thirties, but I hadn’t let either my looks or my body go. I had always had sufficient attraction in those areas to easily hook up. Perhaps it was the flash in my eyes when they appeared before me and made their pitch.

Although there were a few homeless women in the park, they generally didn’t approach me after my initial nonresponsiveness to them. Soon after I had established my twice-daily walk through the park pattern, the homeless women had stopped offering themselves to me for pay–but the men hadn’t.

On the day in question, the week after Thanksgiving, the day my resolve dissolved, Boston was already deep in winter weather, although that season wouldn’t officially arrived for another two weeks. It had started to snow in the morning, while I was walking to the historical society. The snowfall initially was light, but it promised to pick up later in the day. I was wondering whether I would be walking home or taking a taxi because of the snow when I walked through a group of young men on the pathway. As usual, some of them touched me on the sleeve and made suggestions to me, but, smiling, I passed through them, giving them a look of regretful demur. Perhaps my wistfulness at turning them down kept them hopeful and assuming that I did have some interest in man-on-man action. One young man, though, a beautiful blond youth, stood at the edge of the group, smiling at me, but not offering himself. Because he wasn’t forward with me, he, of course, was the one I had in mind when I settled in my usual, out-of-the-way table in the research room of the library.

A stack of books and copies of documents were delivered to me, and I immersed myself in the sometimes bloody toing and froing of the American and British forces on the fringes of Boston in 1775. My novels were very masculine depictions of battle and living conditions at the time, emphasizing how raw life was for both sides. My latest novel had been on Henry Knox’s effort to bring his artillery to the Dorchester Heights. The one I was researching would be on Howe’s retreat to take up a longer siege of New York City. The novels had become quite Ankara bayan escort popular, popular enough that I’d settled on that period for my writing career and had found a lucrative home at Yale University, where students flocked to my less-academic classes on the subject. Having a novel rather than a textbook as the key text for a class was a win-win situation for college students.

I was so embedded in my fantasies of the British retreat and in imagining plots, characters, and plot twists that I didn’t realize for some time that I wasn’t alone at the table. I had picked such a remote spot in the room that was sectioned off by bookshelves so that I usually would have the table to myself. But not today. I was surprised when I looked up to see a young man–the blond I had passed and briefly had eye contact with in the Back Bay Fen park that morning–sitting across and down the table from me. He had his nose in a book. I couldn’t resist speaking to him and not because of his looks, age, or that I’d seen him with the soliciting homeless in the park that morning.

“Do you really find that book interesting?” I asked. I could clearly see the title, Henry’s Guns.

“I have just now picked it up for the first time,” the young man answered. He gave me a nice smile, so I hadn’t disturbed him by asking. There was no one else around close enough to be disturbed either as long as we spoke in low voices.

“What made you pick that book to read?”

“I was looking down the shelves and it caught my eye,” he said. “My name is Hank, which is short for Henry, so I was drawn to this book. I’ve heard of Henry Knox. Colonial times, I think.”

“Did you come in the library to read a book–that book–or to get warm?” I asked. I really wanted to ask if he’d come in to follow me. If so, he was more persistent and clever than his homeless friends in the park were. And I found him intriguing as well as arousing.

The young man shrugged. “I don’t know whether I’ll like the book. I just picked it up. But I don’t mind reading while I’m getting warm.”

“It’s rather a coincidence, you know,” I said.

“How so?” he asked.

“As it happens, I wrote that book.”

“I know,” he said, flashing me a winning smile. “Your photo is on the jacket. I read that far while I was standing at the shelf. I took the book from the shelf because of the title, but I kept it for reading because of your photo on the jacket, Mr. Berkley. Or is that your real name? Not a pen name?”

“Yes, that’s my name.” So, now he knew my name. He’d gotten that off the book too. Somehow that brought him closer to me.

“You came in because of the snow?” I asked. “Is it snowing harder out there?”

“Yes, the snow has picked up,” Hank said. But he didn’t press me further. “Please. Don’t let me stop you from your studies. I can move to another table, if you wish.”

“No, please. Don’t move because of me. I’m flattered you’re reading my book. Please. Stay and continue reading.” I dove back into my studies, and the young man didn’t leave; he obviously was engrossed in reading my book–or was pretending to–which provided a whole new sensation for me, not unpleasant in the least; and I was only able to give half attention to my own studies for the next hour and a half.

It was nearly noon when I gave up. “It’s lunchtime, and I’m hungry,” I said. “I usually eat at Bebop, which is an Irish restaurant across Boylston Street, a block beyond the Berklee College of Music.”

“I know where the college of music is,” he said. “I’ve seen the restaurant before too.”

“Would you like to go there with me? I’d enjoy the company, and I’d like to know what you think of that book so far. It will, of course, be my treat.”

Somewhat to my surprise–but not really; I realized even then that he was on the make, which both flattered and aroused me–Hank agreed. The snow was still coming down and accumulating when we went to lunch. We spent a pleasant hour over lunch while Hank at least pretended that Henry’s Guns was the most engrossing book he’d read in some time. I wondered how much reading a nineteen-year-old homeless boy–yes, I had managed to glean his age from him, although he would tell me no more about his circumstances–did, living rough in the park.

The snow was beginning to pile up as we walked back to the library and settled back into our reading. A little after 4:00 p.m., I stretched and said, “The snow must be quite deep out there now.” I hadn’t really managed any research at all. My afternoon had been taken up in fantasizing possibilities with the young man.

“I’m sure it is,” Hank said, looking up from his book.

“I see you’re not wearing boots.”

“No, I’m not.”

“It must be tough being in the park at night when it snows like this.”

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” he repeated.

What I got from that was that he hadn’t been living in the park long. He probably wasn’t aware yet how rough the life could be in the park at night in the winter. He was a lovely Escort bayan Ankara youth. It bothered me greatly that he’d be out there in the cold when I’d be just a few blocks away, warm in my quite large apartment. I not only had two bedrooms and a nice, cozy study, but there was a servant’s room off the kitchen, with a full bath, that I wasn’t using.

I had so much and Hank had so little. I was really, of course, falling into old habits. What I wanted was Hank.

“If you want to keep reading that book, I, of course, have a copy in my apartment,” I said. “The library won’t let you take that copy out and you can’t stay here in the night. My place is over toward Fenway Park, just a few blocks beyond the park from here. It’s cold and snowing. I have plenty of room. You could stay in my apartment tonight. You could continue reading the book and telling me what you think about it. That would be very helpful to me. You could–“

“Yes, fine, I accept,” Hank said, flashing me a winning smile.

I could hardly believe it had been that easy–if, of course, I wasn’t misreading him.

* * * *

I didn’t fuck him as soon as the taxi had taken us back to my apartment. I had told myself I didn’t intend on fucking him at all, and I managed to hold out all evening and past the time I settled him in the servant’s room and went to the master bedroom myself, to sleep all alone in my king-sized bed.

It wasn’t easy, though. As soon as we entered the apartment, with him contemplating how nice and nicely furnished the place was–neither of which was something I’d chosen; the university had set it all up–I approached the delicate matter of what I perceived as his homelessness–and how I wanted to relate to him under the circumstances.

“Perhaps you’d like to take a shower. I could find a robe for you and put your clothes in the washer if you like.” I’d shown him where he had a room and bath he could use across the apartment from where I’d be sleeping.

He gave me a rather funny look, but said that would be fine with him. I left the room and waited for him to go into the bath, finding a robe of mine that had always been a bit too small for me and some briefs for him to wear while his clothes were being washed. When he came out of his room while I was in the kitchen alcove off the living and dining area, he was just in the robe. I didn’t realize that until after dinner when we’d both settled in the study, him to read my copy of Henry’s Guns and me to try to pretend that I was composing on the computer, that he wasn’t wearing the briefs I had provided. As he sat in a wing chair, facing me at the desk, he let the robe brush open. He was naked under the robe. His nineteen-year-old body was beautiful. His waist and hips were narrow, his cock and balls perfectly proportioned to his Adonis-like body.

He wasn’t being very subtle. He knew I wanted to fuck him. Just as I wanted to do to the other young homeless men in the park I couldn’t stay away from, he was offering his nubile, small, perfect body to me. He wanted me to fuck him–at least he wanted to compensate me for bringing him in from the cold and feeding him.

I resisted–all evening–managing to make it to bedtime and to guide him to the servant’s bedroom and then to go to my own bedroom. There was, certainly, a lock on my bedroom door, and as he was a complete stranger to me, there was every reason for me to use it. But of course I didn’t.

He came to me in the dark of the night, as if anything that happened in the dark could be denied as ever having happened. I woke to the covers being pulled off my body and a naked Hank lying between my legs, holding my hips between his hands, and sucking my cock. I immediately was lost to him, taking his blond curls in my hands and helping to guide his head as it bobbed on my groin, moaning for him, “Yes, yes, yes. Just like that,” setting my hips into a rocking motion, fucking up into his throat.

When Hank realized I was awake–and not doing anything to stop him–he turned, stretching full length over me, hovering above me on his knees and elbows, and offering his tail to me. I took his cock in my mouth and we sixty-nined until we both were hard as rocks. I grasped his hips and repositioned and raised my face to bury itself between his buttocks cheeks, and I prepared him for penetration. I rolled him over onto his back and repositioned myself on top of him.

He cried out, “Yes, yes, fuck me! Put it in me! Be good to me! Fuck me hard.” I knew he was as much in the throes of passion as I was, as he was fairly growling and writhing under me. And I did what he said he wanted. I grasped his legs under his knees and hooked them onto my hips as I slid my knees under his buttocks, raising his hole to a convenient angle. My bulb lodged at his hole. I then grasped his wrists and pulled his arms over his head, hovering over his small body, and coming in for a kiss on the lips.

He unthinkingly bit me on the lower lip at the moment of penetration and arched Bayan escort Ankara his back and his head, looking wildly at the ceiling and groaning as I pushed inside him, stretching him. He writhed under me, held in thrall by my hands and more powerful body, as I relentlessly buried myself in his channel and he fought to adjust to me. I pressed my lips into his throat as I forced him to take me. Then, just as I felt he was adjusting to me, I began to plow him–to fuck him in long strokes–as, with a long sigh, he collapsed under me, opening fully to my possession of his body, settled down, and rocked his body against mine, rowing with the fuck.

Later in the night, encountering no resistance from the young man at all, I turned him onto his belly, ran an arm under his waist to pull him up to his hands and knees, mounted him high, and fucked him hard in a doggie position.

The first time was fraught with “should this stop, not carry to the end” nervous tension. The second time it was open and freely enjoyed.

* * * *

In the morning, when I came out of the bedroom hallway, I found that he’d made coffee. He was standing, the robe I’d given him the previous day hanging, open, on his small, naked body and leaning into the frame of the living room window overlooking the narrow green space between the apartment complex and the road. He was looking beyond that, over to the park on the other side of the street, the park where I’d first seen him. He was drinking from a mug and, taking it from his lips, gave me a smile. There were to be no recriminations, which was only right. He’d come to my bed in the night. He could have remained across the apartment in the room behind the kitchen.

On my way into the room, I stopped in the laundry room, so I came into the living room with an apologetic look on my face and his damp clothes in my hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t put the clothes in the dryer last evening. They’re still damp. I’ll put them in there now. It will be a while longer, I’m afraid, before you can wear them.”

“There’s coffee made,” he said. “I found the eggs and the bread too, but I didn’t know when you’d be getting up. It’s still snowing outside, but not too hard.”

“It will probably be too deep to want to walk in without boots, though,” I said. We both knew he hadn’t been wearing boots the previous day.

“Yes, I suppose boots are needed,” he answered.

I took him back in the bedroom and fucked him again. He didn’t resist. In fact, the second time that morning he put me on my back and he rode my cock in a cowboy. We fucked for a half hour every three or four hours for the entire day and through the night, filling in the time between with breakfast, him reading and me computing, lunch, him reading and me computing, dinner, and a movie on the TV, during which I fucked him on the sofa facing the console. He indicated the need and want for it even more often than I did.

He slept on my bed with me that night, although there wasn’t that much sleep happening. I hadn’t had to convince Hank to engage in any of the couplings. He fell right in with them all. He wanted it. He was much younger and more resilient than I was. He wore me out. But he was just too delicious. I couldn’t help myself. I just kept getting hard at the thought of covering him and at the sight of his beautiful small body, and I kept hardening and needing to get off. I hadn’t had sex since I’d arrived in Boston on my sabbatical nearly a month earlier. Everything I wanted from him, he readily gave me.

* * * *

Again, Hank was at the window, leaning into the frame, his too-large robe–no, my robe–open and hanging on his lovely body, and holding a mug of coffee when I came out of the bedroom hallway the next morning. I was carrying his clothes, dry and folded. They’d been left in the dryer all of the previous day and night. Hank hadn’t needed clothes.

I was in a robe too–and naked underneath. My pecker was pretty worn out, though. I don’t know if I could have gotten it up if I had too. I didn’t have to this morning.

“I made scrambled eggs, but I didn’t cook all of the egg batter I’d made,” he said. He smiled again. Once again nothing had happened the previous day that he was going to criticize me for. No “You are an animal,” even though I think I reverted to one in one or more fuck. But he’d been wildly enthusiastic too.

“Thanks,” I said, pouring a mug of coffee and leaning up against the kitchen island. I didn’t want to go close to him. I didn’t want to have the urge to get it up and not be able to because I’d overused it. “Your clothes are here on the chair. All dry.”

We both looked at his folded clothes as if they were what was going to decide for him whether he would put them on and leave. Being ready to wear, though, seemed to be the decision point. They hadn’t really been dirty in the first place now that I thought about that. I wondered why they hadn’t been, if he was homeless. That was my first thought that perhaps he wasn’t.

“It’s stopped snowing and the roads and sidewalks are clear,” he said.

“Maybe the park walks haven’t been cleared and wherever you guys pitch your tents there or whatever are still snow covered.” I said it halfheartedly. I didn’t want him to leave and yet I did. I was confused, and, primarily, I was exhausted and my cock was limp and sore.

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White Russian Unicorn

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Amateur

[In the traditional Chinese nighttime floating world of courtesan sensual pleasures, a prostitute who was deemed to be more than perfect was known as a unicorn, a mystical being, to be sought out and engaged at a high price. During the communist revolution in Russia, the royalists, known as White Russians, had two choices: flee or die. Many of them fled into China, to Manchuria, in the northeast. To the Chinese, the White Russians were exotic. The Chinese treasured small persons with pale skin. Many of the White Russians not only had this, but were beautiful and had platinum blond hair as well. So many arrived in China with so little, though, that what was most readily available to them to be able to survive was to serve sexual fetish and sell their bodies. The most beautiful of them, whether female or male, were known as unicorns. The Yury of this story is a unicorn.]

Grasping the eighteen-year-old White Russian’s hips, the Manchurian Master, wrapped in a voluminous scarlet silk robe, sitting cross-legged on the platform bed in his Harbin, China, sleeping pavilion, pulled the naked young man’s buttocks up into his lap. Yury’s wrists were tied together by a scarlet scarf and streamed above his head. His legs were bent, his feet flat on the silk quilt on either side of the Chinese warlord’s hips. Half drugged, the perfectly formed, white blond, alabaster-skin young man was lethargic in acceptance and resignation. His eyes were slitted, his lips parted, and his tongue flicked against his plump lower lip. The foreign youth, a ripe peach in the floating world of Chinese prostitution, sighed and arched his back as the Manchurian Master’s long, manicured fingers glided up his torso, paused at the young man’s nipples to stroke them, and then slowly descended, fingers splayed over the creamy-white body, savoring the supple, yielding flesh of the young man.

Yury’s eyes opened wide and he gave a low groan as the Master produced a spiral-ribbed thick white-jade dildo from inside the folds of his robe and started working it into the young man’s channel, stretching and opening him, as he stroked the youth’s pert cock with his other hand.

“Da, da–Shi, shi–Yes, yes,” the young man murmured in both Russian and Mandarin to please the man’s lust. Completely aside from any physical pain or mental anguish it caused him, his sheer survival relied on pleasing the men here in China. Using the leverage of his feet, Yury raised his pelvis higher and spread his thighs wider to acknowledge his acceptance of the invading shaft. There was no question that he would take the jade shaft. He worked on shooting his load, which he knew would please the man. He jerked and came and the man sighed in approval. Yury controlled it as he could. He knew another coming would be needed from him. Yury had learned that most men were most impressed when they and he came close together.

Although a captive, Yury was not an unwilling one. He was a realist. He had suffered much to get here from Moscow, and he chose life for whatever it took to maintain it.

The Russian royalists, termed the White Russians, had been flooding into northeast China, coalescing in the city of Harbin, since 1900 in what was, first, a migration from threats and, more recently, an escape from death dispensed by the eventually-successful Bolshevik Revolution of the Red Russians. By 1920 the White Russians were a dominating force in Harbin and the Chinese government had responded by disenfranchising them. Yury, like all other White Russians in Manchuria, had become a nonperson at eighteen, left to his own devises to survive or not. Already prostituting himself to men and getting some enjoyment out of doing so and having discovered that men called him a unicorn, something very special in the world of courtesans, Yury had sold himself to a specialized auction house.

At great cost, The Manchurian Master, a powerful warlord in the region, had won a bid on using the young man for the current week, which was coming to an end, prompting the man to work hard at a satisfying climax. Yury actually preferred going with Chinese men like this over other White Russians. The Chinese masters were sophisticated and generally used finesse and were inventive in their sexual technique, taking their time and bringing the male prostitute along with them to the land of pleasure. White Russian men who covered other men who were selling their bodies tended to be brutal, crude, and concerned only in getting themselves off quickly. They knew what it was like to lose wealth and position in a single, quick stroke, so they took their pleasures fast and hard and with regard only for themselves, while they could.

The Chinese men were impressed with young, blond, Caucasian men. White Russians weren’t. To them a lay was lay. Chinese men explored and prepared with their hands on the pale bodies of White Russian blonds. White Russians fucked. Chinese men sought out and savored what they called unicorns. White Russians had no understanding or appreciation for that concept.

The Master moved the jade phallus faster, deeply, as the young Ankara bayan escort man writhed astride his lap, panting and moaning and using the leverage of his feet pressed into the quilt beside the Master’s hips to raise and lower his pelvis, moving with the spiraled phallus, fucking himself on the jade shaft. The Master was manipulating the phallus with an understanding of how to bring pleasure to the young man–not just to dominate him. But it was, in fact, about domination, stretching, and teasing the edges. Yury shuddered as the jade dildo worked him. It stretched him and caused his channel muscles to clutch and ripple and Yury to writhe and jerk within the Chinese master’s embrace. His moans were natural and involuntary. Yury was not pretending to enjoy being dominated; he was rising up the levels of sexual fulfillment.

Chinese men such as this one realized that in order to attain sexual perfection and ride on the clouds themselves, they had to bring their partner with them. Doing so didn’t make them any less dominate, though. Yury wasn’t just his conquest for the moment; the young man was his sex slave. Yury would surrender all; give him everything.

Yury understood his role here. He was making an effort to please. He was doing what he could to make himself desired and satisfying to the Chinese lord. His very existence relied on pleasing the men who won his time in the auction. That the warlord’s cock stood up through the slit of his robe in hard erection was a testament that Yury’s response was pleasing him.

“Da, Da–Shi, shi!” the unicorn exclaimed to the ceiling, using the leverage from the heels of his feet to row his pelvis against the churning dildo.

Extracting the dildo, the Master brushed aside the folds of his robe at his crotch, mere inches from the young man’s now-gaping hole. An angry-looking, upcurved erection rose from between the folds of the robe. The Master grasped it with one hand, while the other palmed the young man’s tailbone, raising and positioning Yury’s pelvis for penetration. As the young man panted and groaned, the Manchurian lord ran the bulb of the shaft around the rim of the hole, down the young man’s perinium to the root of Yury’s cock, which also was in full erection–sometimes Yury had to work hard to produce an erection for a client, but not with this master–and back up to the hole, making a few feints at penetrating, and when the youth whispered, “Da, da, vstav’–Yes, yes, put it in,” the Manchurian Master did so, with a forceful, deep entry that made Yury suck in his breath and involuntarily and ineffectually writhe within the man’s embrace.

The young Russian blond gasped and panted hard, crying out “Da! Da!” as the Manchurian Master grasped his butt cheeks, parting and squeezing them, and pulling out from his first breaching, forcefully and deeply penetrated Yury’s channel with his shaft again. And then again, relentlessly pulled the young man’s pelvis into him, and buried the shaft deep. And again. The rhythm of the fuck had begun.

While he set a cadence of the pumping, the warlord briefly released the young man’s buttocks to grasp Yury’s back and pull the lad’s torso up into this chest, Yury’s bound wrists going over the Chinese warrior’s head, resting behind the Manchurian’s thick neck. Yury buried his face into the scarlet robing of the Chinese man’s chest, soaking the silk there with his tears, and groaned and panted as, returning his hands to grasping and manipulating the young man’s buttocks, the Master, fully saddled, raised and lowered the youth’s channel on the shaft and revolved it back and forward and around until Yury was overcome with enough of his own arousal to rise and fall on the cock himself, using the leverage of his feet.

“Zhèyàng de rŭbáisèpífū. Túnbù rúcĭ xiázhăi. Zhème xiǎo de dòng. Zěnme chī?–Such milky-white skin. Such narrow hips. Such a small hole. How can you take it?” the Master murmured. But take it Yury did. He had no choice, and the lord wasn’t querying this out of concern. He wanted his to be the cock that was almost too big to be sheathed. He had positioned each of them so that he could watch his shaft conquer and then work that small hole open and then to concentrate on the root of shaft as it kissed the rim of the young man’s anus, pulled out several inches, and then sank to the quick again. Grasping the back of Yury’s head, he turned the young man’s face so he had to watch the work of the cock as well. Yury shuddered, panted, and moaned as he was forced to watch as well as feel the taking. The warlord took his pleasure in that way.

After several minutes of methodical bumping and grinding against each other, with Yury crying out “Eto slishkom bol’shoye!–Zhège tài dale!–It’s too big!” in Russian and Mandarin, respectively, and then “Da, Da. Shi, Shi. Zài wǒ lĭmiàn!–Yes, yes, inside me!” because he knew it was what the man wanted to hear, and with a small, mutually satisfying cry and sigh, the man and young man ejaculated almost in harmony. After a week of pulling the cock out to watch the cum spread over the young Escort bayan Ankara man’s back or belly, the Manchurian delighted now in seeding Yury deep and watching the young man’s eyes flash and his body jerk with each spurt of the cum.

Yury was as well fucked as any lover could do for him. With an accomplished Chinese dominator, Yury could have what no White Russian had given him as yet–pleasure in the act that was forced on him to perform because he was an alien in an alien land, barred by the threat of death of ever going back to his homeland.

They lay entwined and dozing on the platform bed in the sleeping pavilion as twilight set in around them. Yury lay, lightly panting, stretched out and vulnerable, smiling slightly at the warlord, who was hovering over him, exploring his body once more with his hands. Even after a week of working the unicorn’s body, the warlord was not tired of doing so.

Although he would have pretended it was so anyway, the young Russian had no trouble conveying to the man that he had been well fucked. The warlord smiled and whispered, “Shì de, shì de, xiǎo jiāhuo–Yes, yes, little one,” as Yury honored him by reaching out, handing the man’s cock, and working at bringing him back to life. He would not have bothered to initiate more sex with a White Russian man. A White Russian client would have moved directly into another fuck as soon as he was able for as long as the amount of time he had purchased. Remaining hovered over Yury, the warlord handed the young man’s cock as well, and slow-stroked Yury to a pelvis rocking ejaculation.

When darkness had descended, the Manchurian Master became fully engorged again, having edged himself by guiding the intensity of Yury’s stroking of his member to spin out his pleasure. He turned Yury onto his belly and then, with a strong arm encircling the young prostitute’s waist and pulling him up to his knees, Yury’s eye’s flashed open, the drugs from earlier having worn off, and yelped, as the magnificently muscled Manchurian warrior mounted the small, slender youth’s ass and penetrated him in one long slide.

The young man cried out “Vot der’mo! Okh, sovokuplyat’sya!–Oh shit! Oh, Fuck!,” forgetting in his distress to include the Mandarin, his fingers clawing at the red quilting under him as the master planted his feet, crouched over the young man’s back, and thrust, thrust, thrust, seizing full value from the week with the eighteen-year-old small, slender, foreign youth the man had conquered.

The second taking was one of power and dominance, not finesse and lovemaking. The warlord was a man, a warrior. Yury was his slave.

* * * *

During the pedicab ride into the narrow alleys of the City of the Night district of Harbin, the Manchurian Master held the small figure of the platinum-blond eighteen-year-old White Russian youth close to his side. The young man was trembling, knowing he was being returned to the auction for whatever came next. The Master would like to keep him, and he believed that the young man would be content to stay with him, but Yury’s contract was iron clad. Yury was a unicorn. He was subject to weekly auction at an astronomical price, for his entire eighteenth year. In exchange for room and board and a small amount of yuan–cash–the young man lay down for the winning bidder and opened his legs upon demand for a week.

Perhaps when the young man turns nineteen, the Master thought. But then again, perhaps his own interest will have lagged then. He was a member of this particular auction house precisely because all members shared the fetish of having youths when they were on the cusp of becoming men–still being yielding, supple, and flexible, with fresh, resilient skin and channels and still with a sense of awe at a man’s shaft entering and moving inside them. When they were of European stock, slender-hipped and alabaster hued as Yury was, it was sheer heaven for men like the Manchurian Master to hold the slim hips between their hands, the tips of their fingers almost able to touch, to squeeze open the rosebud of the young Russian’s sweet, tiny hole, and then to plunge their cocks inside and listen for the screams as they ripped the youth’s innocence from him. This was practiced with Chinese youths as well, but that was not near as satisfying as conquering and ravishing a Caucasian youth. Westerners–Foreign Ghosts–acted so superior. It was a pleasure to subjugate them.

And Yury was a unicorn.

He was a very expensive unicorn. Only the very rich and very noble Manchurians could afford a White Russian youth like Yury–at least one who was fairly fresh.

But, yes, he would bid again. They still had a way to go before arriving at the auction house. He would take his pleasure to the last possible moment. The Master rearranged the folds of his robe, cupped the back of Yury’s head, and moved the young man’s face into his lap. Obedient and yielding, Yury opened his mouth over the hard shaft and gave it suck. This man had not beaten him and had housed him in luxury. Yury could hope for no better winning Bayan escort Ankara bidder than this Manchurian general. Running his hands into the luxurious white-blond hair, the master gripped the young man’s head and forced it down, moving his cock into the Russian lad’s throat. The eighteen-year-old Yury gagged, but he sucked on.

At the entrance to the auction house, they parted company, the Manchurian Master going in one direction to the auction room, a windowless chamber with padded cushions surrounding a raised platform, and Yury being led in another direction.

This was the week of the unicorn–a time when a unicorn prostitute was given on stage to a symbolic unicorn for the entertainment of the auction house patrons–and thus it was a beefy Manchurian muscle man in his prime, costumed as a unicorn, who used the young men being auctioned on the platform as the nine patrons present, kneeling on the cushions surrounding the stage, contemplated and registered their bids for the young whores.

Yury, naked, was placed on a silk-covered wedge in the center of the platform, He was positioned on his back, his buttocks on the edge of the raised side of the wedge and his shoulders at the opposite, lower base. His limbs were bound, the elbows and wrists to each side of the wedge and his legs drawn back, the ankles bound to the young man’s wrists. The patrons viewed his bound and helpless perfectly formed, creamy white body from the side.

In entered the unicorn, bounding up onto the platform. He was a tall, beefy, young Chinese stud, with a horse’s head cage fashioned from flexible bamboo strips on his head. The distinguishing feature was a grease-slathered, unicorn’s spiral-sided horn in the center of the head’s forehead. The figure’s hands and feet were caged in fashioned bamboo strips, and a horse’s tail sprouted from the young man’s bulbous ass. He otherwise was naked, magnificently muscled, and hung.

As the patrons licked their lips, leaned forward, and contemplated their bids, the bound Yury, writhing as he could within his restraints and panting hard and crying to the carved-wood ceiling of the chamber, was penetrated and fucked by the unicorn, crouching low at the high-wedge end of the bound young man, and fucking him with the unicorn horn.

When he was in full erection, the unicorn rose up, hovered over the bound body of the young man, set hooves at the sides of the wedge, and slid inside Yury with a massive, hard cock. Young, virile, strong, long-lasting, and hung, the unicorn pulled his hips back until the rim of the bulb was evident and then thrust forward. Back and thrust forward. Again and again. The massively thick unicorn cock churning away in the small Russian’s dilating rosebud caused the patrons to lean forward more, lick their lips, and move their hands into the folds of their robes to find their erections. Their sighs and moans mingled with Yury’s cries and groans. The bidding on the beautiful platinum-blonde Russian was guaranteed to be high. Each of the patrons dreamed of fitting his own shaft inside that hole.

The unicorn fucked Yury and fucked him and fucked him, as, turning his face to the patrons, his platinum blond hair flowing around his head, his body moving into become one with the fuck and rocking with the unicorn, Yury looked out to the watching bidders for relief and mercy that didn’t come. If all nine turned in bids, the performance would end there and the winner would be identified. The patrons had been doing this long enough, though, to know to turn in bids late so as to be able to enjoy a performance longer.

Seeing no solace among the watchers, the resilient young man gritted his teeth and turned his face away. He would survive. It would be tough, but, thanks to his looks and his ability and willingness to take men’s cocks, he would survive. He also would take some enjoyment of his own from it. This unicorn was a god of the fuck, for instance. Any resistance Yury was conveying was an act. He chose this form of survival.

The performance was so scintillating that it was quite possible that when the unicorn pulled his cock out and ejaculated up Yury’s belly, all nine patrons came with him. Exhausted, Yury just lay there, collapsed, his head lolled back to the side where the patrons could see his total surrender in his defeated facial expression, and his eyes set in a daze. He had come several minutes earlier. His chafed, red-rimmed hole was no long a rosebud. It gaped to the unicorn’s demanding requirements. Each patron fantasized that they would leave it in the same condition constantly for a week when their bid was accepted. China routing and conquering Russia.

Yury was a beautiful young man. Once again, he went for a high bid. The Manchurian Master regretted that his was not the winning bid this time. But the beautiful little young man would be brought back again for the next auction, which would be the auction of the ox. The Chinese stud who played the ox was even more magnificently endowed than the unicorn was. None of the patrons of the auction house would miss that performance. There was always a chance that his bid would be the winning one there–and when Yury turned nineteen, perhaps the master could afford to buy his contract. If, of course, the Master had an interest then in a young man older than eighteen–and one so totally used. He’d have to see what damage the ox could do.

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The Gender Swap

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bdsm

*********Okay, so yeah. I got this idea from a GIF I saw. I thought it was hot as fuck, and I immediately knew I wanted to write the story for it. So, here’s my attempt at that. i get a lot of hate on here, and all i can say about that is there are a lot of amazing stories and authors on here. So, if the stuff I write isn’t your cup of tea, maybe keep browsing. Find something you do like. For those who do enjoy this stuff, hope you all love this!**********

Las Vegas. The Hotel Cupid. 17th floor. Room 512. I lay in a bed that felt a little too comfortable. A little too luxurious. It felt like heaven.

I stirred, and my body felt strange, different somehow. Still groggy, not even sure why I was up at this hour, I swung my legs out from under the covers.

The neon lights of a nearby casino illuminated silky smooth skin, the sexiest, most feminine feet and toes…..

Alarmed, I peeled the covers back, allowing my gaze to slowly drift up my legs, past my men’s underwear, right up to my crotch. My significantly smaller crotch. Where the hell was my dick?!

I pulled the fabric aside. I had a god damn pussy! Completely absent of hair, my pussy lips looked plump but tight, inviting….

I was suddenly aware of just how small my shirt had become. It strained at my chest….

My chest! I pulled the collar away so I could have a look. I had boobs! Huge fucking boobs! I pulled my shirt up, intending to remove it completely. To my surprise, it got tangled in my now long, blonde hair.

There was so fucking much of it! I had to wrestle with it too get my shirt off. And then, my boobs were free.

I just sat there, topless in bed, taking in my new body.

Suddenly, the bed next to me stirred. No big deal. It was just Joey……Joey! What the fuck?!

As if in answer, he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “What the hell’s going on?” His eyes gradually fell on me, widening exponentially as he saw my naked tits.

“Mike, is that you?” he asked. “Holy shit! It actually worked!”

“What? What the fuck worked?!” I demanded. “What the hell is going on here?!”

Joey slapped his forehead. “Oh…. that’s right. You don’t know….Mike. This is your bachelor party. Vegas! Hookers! Blow!”

That’s right! I remembered now. Me and Joey had been planning this for weeks…. except, the last thing I remembered was….arguing with Emily, my fiancee.

“She made you take the pill, Mike,” Joey said. “It was the only way she’d let us go.”

“What fucking pill?!” I asked, growing frantic.

“The sex change pill!” Joey yelled back. “She didn’t wanna take a chance on you cheating on her. It was her idea man, not mine!”

“Why don’t I remember any of this?”

“You wouldn’t,” he explained. “The pill kind of fucks you up….it fries your brain, but only temporarily. You’ll be back to normal in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days?!” I shouted. “That’s our whole fucking trip!”

“I know,” Joey said. “That’s kind of the point. To keep you from cheating.”

I plopped my hands down on the bed, noticing offhandedly how it made my boobs jiggle. “What the fuck are we gonna do, Joey?”

He turned to me in the bed, put a hand on my bare arm. “Same thing we’ve been planning on doing, man! Gambling! Hookers! Blow!”

“Okay,” I said, feeling suddenly stiff. “I’m gonna need you to like back off a little, man.”

“What…..why?” Joey said, looking confused.

“Cause I don’t know if it’s a side effect or what, but I’m horny as fuck right now. Just back the fuck off!”

“Really?” Joey said, even as he slid away from me. “You want me to get some girls up here?”

“No! Goddammit, Joey! The last thing I need right now is fucking hookers! I just….I just need to rub one out or something. How do you masturbate as a girl?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Joey shouted. “Just touch it or something…..”

I looked at him with pleading eyes.

“What?” he asked. “You’ve never gotten Emily off with your hands before?”

“She prefers oral,” I said.

“Well, there’s no way I’m getting you off,” he said. “Not without getting something out if it for me…..”

I shook my head. “Nope. We’re not going there. No way, no how….I don’t care how horny I am!”

Joey eyed me mischievously. “How horny are you?”

I just shook my head, ignoring him.

“Cause, ya know….we could save a lot of money on hookers if you and me just…..take care of things ourselves.”

I shot him a glare. “I’m not letting you fuck me, man.”

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s not like it’s your body! Why not take advantage of it?”

“It’s still my body!” I yelled. “At least, the mind part is. You think I’m just gonna forget that we fucked afterward?”

I asked it more as a question than an actual reason.

Joey had pulled the blanket down, exposing his boxers. I watched as his hand slowly made its way to his crotch, began rubbing at his dick through his shorts.

“Don’t even think Ankara escort about it, man,” I said.

“What? What’s the big deal? You’re horny…. I’m horny. So, let’s have some fun.”

I suddenly felt trapped. Not that anything physical was keeping me here, but my unexpected horniness was causing me to crave…..things.

For some reason, I couldn’t explain, I really wanted to see Joey’s dick. Worse yet, I think he knew that I wanted it.

He started to pull his shorts down. The tip of his dick peeked out.

“Put that fucking thing away!” I warned him.

“What?” he asked innocently. “I’m just gonna rub one out….ease the tension so we can think.”

That actually wasn’t a bad idea.

Joey pulled his shorts the rest of the way down, exposing his full cock, his large, meaty balls.

I watched mesmerized as he begun to stroke himself. My mouth watered. I had to force myself to look away.

“Just let me know when you’re done, man,” I said.

“Be a lot easier to finish if you’d help me out,” he said slyly.

“Uh-uh,” I refused. But my eyes drifted back to him.

He was jerking his meat with one hand, using the other to squeeze his balls, occasionally pressing his fingers into the skin between his sack and his butt hole. He started moaning with pleasure.

My pussy began throbbing, pulsing like a heartbeat. Stranger still, I was suddenly very wet. My nipples, large and pink, strained outward, little love bumps poking out from my areolas.

“Dammit, Joey!” I cursed at him.

“What, Mike?” he asked innocently, continuing to stroke himself. “Or maybe we should call you Michelle….until you change back.”

He paused his stroking to eye me curiously.

“No, continue,” I insisted. “It’s making me wet. Maybe I can get off by just watching you.”

“Well, in that case, how about a front row seat?” he asked invitingly, giving his stomache a pat.

I couldn’t see anything wrong with that, and part of me DID want to get a bit closer.

We pushed the blanket all the way off the bed, and I positioned myself so my head was laying on his belly, just inches from the tip of his penis.

Joey resumed his stroking, and my pussy proceeded to get wetter and wetter. Unable to contain myself, I reached a hand down and felt between my legs. Hot, wet stickiness licked my fingers. My god, what the fuck was happening?

I was breathless, and Joey seemed to know it. As I licked my lips, he worked his fist on just the tip of his penis, making sure that his hand bumped and rubbed against my mouth as he did.

I couldn’t resist. I gave his hand a lick, instantly wishing it was his dick.

Joey laughed. Are you wanting a taste of the real thing?”

I shook my head furiously no.

“You sure?” he asked. “Cause you’re giving me some serious suck vibes right now.”

“Just keep jerking,” I said.

Joey obliged, but made sure to keep his hand bouncing against my mouth. He then pulled a little sneaky on me.

He lowered his fist a little, hoping my mouth would follow it down. I made the mistake of doing so, and suddenly my lips pressed against the tip of his penis.

I was shocked, but hungry. Hoping Joey somehow hadn’t noticed, I left my mouth there, just kissing his tip as he continued to jerk himself off.

He was wet too, a little strand of pre-cum dabbing at my mouth. I parted my lips slightly, and his tip entered my mouth just a little.

It was impossible for me not to get my tongue involved. I brought it slowly to his head, licking at him. It was a little salty, but more importantly, it felt good….soft, yet firm.

Joey groaned as more of my mouth took him in. Suddenly, my lips slipped past the mushroom tip of his dick and onto his actual shaft.

We moaned together, and I had a moment of clarity. I was sucking Joey’s dick!

I immediately pulled back, intending to come away from him, find some other way to get off, something less…..gay.

“Oh no! You can’t stop now!” Joey said with a laugh. “You gotta finish what you started!”

He thrusted his dick up and into my mouth while at the same time grabbing the back of my head and pushing me down lower onto him.

I gagged and squealed, surprised at how high and girlish my voice was. “Joey, stop!” I tried to yell. All that came out was garbled choking.

Both of his hands were on the back of my head now, controlling how far I could come away from him.

I tried to keep my head at the highest point, but he caught on to this tactic, grabbed a bunch of my hair and began forcing my head to bob up and down on his dick.

“Joey! Joey! Joey! Joey!” I tried to yell at him, but all that came out was, “JAJAJAJA!” as his dick filled my mouth hole.

My saliva mixed with his pre-cum and drooled down the sides of his dick, a thick white mess.

“Oh god!” Joey was losing his mind. “Oh fuck! God damn! Fuck!”

He begun thrusting up into my mouth, Ankara escort bayan trying to reach the back of my throat.

Frantic, I grabbed his cock, wrapping my fist low around his base so he couldn’t choke me with his dick anymore. I started sliding my hand up and down on him, loving the way he felt against my palm, my fingers.

I used my free hand to massage his balls, rubbing first one, then the other, then trying to rub them both together.

Joey moaned at my touch and laid back, allowing me to suck him freely.

Not wanting him to push me down onto his meat again, I bobbed my mouth as low as I could go on him, sucking him with my lips and tongue, inhaling him deeply.

“Ohhhh, fuck yeah, Michelle,” he said. “Suck that fucking cock.”

His words excited me, made me want to go deeper on him. The only way I could see to do that though was to straddle him.

I maneuvered my lower half, swung my leg over him, and sat my bubbly female ass right on his chest. All the while, my mouth stayed firmly planted on his dick.

“You gotta lose those underwear,” Joey said.

“Why?” I asked, not following. I was pretty sure I could get off just from sucking on him.

“Trust me,” Joey said, and suddenly he was pulling my underwear down, slipping them around first one knee, then the other.

I felt his breath on my puss, and I gasped with a mix of surprised pleasure.

“Don’t!” I yelled. “I’m so fucking wet…..”

“I don’t care.”

And then, suddenly…..blinding pleasure as Joey’s mouth planted on my pussy lips, his tongue invading my hole.

“OH GOD!” I yelled. He was relentless, his tongue everywhere. He nibbled at my lips, probed me with his tongue, found and attacked my clit.

I couldn’t help but hammer my pussy on his mouth, his nose, his chin.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!” I’d never felt anything this sensitive, this good. At that moment, I would have gladly had Joey’s babies if he’d asked me.

To show my appreciation at his mouth skills, I sucked him harder, faster, deeper. I pushed my mouth down as far as I could on his shaft, held myself down on him like I was in a swimming pool trying to see how long I could hold my breath.

My very first orgasm took me by surprise. I felt it rising up in me, and suddenly I was crying out as my pussy shook on Joey’s face, trembling as I clamped my pussy lips down on his mouth, digging my clit into his chin.

I cried out and wailed for what seemed like forever. Jerking on Joey’s meat until my mouth was ready to take him again, I wondered how girls survived such intense bouts of pleasure.

I slobbered over his hard penis, wanting more than ever for him to cum in my mouth, cover my face, paint me with his jizz. I wanted him to feel the overwhelming power of orgasmic release.

I sucked faster still until I heard Joey laughing. I shot him a look back that said, ‘What the fuck?’ but he just smiled at me admiringly.

“Go ahead, take your time. But, if you want me to cum, you’re gonna have to let me fuck it,” he said.

“Why’s that?” I said, hoping he noticed the mix of cum and saliva dangling from my chin.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve just gotta have something to thrust into, I guess.”

“Well, thrust into this,” I said, and began sinking my mouth deeply onto his groin, trying to get as close to balls deep as I could.

Joey actually pulled me off of him, sliding out from underneath me. “I need to get deeper,” he said, and motioned for me to lay so my head was hanging off the side of the bed.

He then strode over and leaned over my body so his meat and balls were dangling over my mouth.

Slowly, he fed his shaft into my waiting lips, pushing his cock into my mouth until I choked and gagged on it. He then withdrew sightly, finding a depth that I could comfortably suck him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready for what?” I tried to ask, but all that came out was, “RaRaRa!”

Taking this as assent, Joey plowed deeply into my mouth, immediately coming back up as I choked and spluttered on him. Before I could catch my breath, he sank in low and deep again, immediately coming back up. He repeated this motion again and again, picking up speed as he did until he was hammering my mouth with his meat, moving in deeper and deeper with each stroke.

He grabbed at my tits, squeezing the soft flesh of my pillows and tweaking my nipples painfully. He slapped at my boobs and continued to fuck my face.

I wrestled against him on the bed as I choked and gagged on his cock, semen and drool quickly covering my face and eyes so I could barely make out a thing. Joey held me in place though, barely giving me a break as he continued to pummel me.

At last, he sank balls deep in my mouth. His balls, in fact, were pressed so tightly against my nose that I couldn’t breathe. He held himself there, seeing how long I could take it. I flailed and fought against him, making Escort Ankara whatever guttural noises I could to let him know it was too much. I clutched at his ass cheeks, trying to somehow pull him from my face.

He relented, pulling most of his meaty dick from my lips. I gasped for air, choking around his tip, saliva and cum pouring from my lips.

Once he saw I was fine though, Joey pushed himself all the way back down my throat. I moaned for mercy around his meat, pleading with him to take his dick out and just fuck me.

“What?” he asked, seeing the tears in my eyes, picking up on the fact that I was getting done with this part of our fuck session. “You wanted me to cum, didn’t you?”

He began thrusting in and out of my mouth, sloshing my mouth with his meat, and trying desperately to get off.

I tried to yell around his dick, and I guess this must have had some effect because Joey suddenly fell on top of me, laying in a kind of 69 position.

“Here,” he said. “Maybe this’ll keep you quiet.”

He put both of his hands on my pussy, using one to play with my lips and probe my hole and the other to twist and squeeze at my clit.

It was a pleasant distraction, but it hardly lessened the fact that he was full on fucking my mouth. My lips slid up and down over his meat, his balls slamming into my nose. He was picking up speed, railing me like a damn locomotive.

I needed him to finish, to be done with this before I suffocated or else strangled myself in his meat. I did what I could with my mouth, trying to urge him to a climax with my tongue.

Finally, miraculously, he pulled away from me. Both of us panting but for very different reasons, he slapped the side of my face with his meat, used it to clean the cum and drool from my eyes, then fed it back into my mouth.

I lapped at it hungrily, animalistic, unable to think straight.

“Let’s do doggy,” Joey said. “So, I can finish.”

At this point, I didn’t give a fuck what he did as long as he gave my mouth and throat a break. I climbed up on top of the bed, facing the headboard, and buried my face in a pillow, trying to clean it the rest of the way.

I arched my ass up as high as I could, trying to give him easy access.

“Damn, girl!” Joey said excitedly. “I’m fixing to fuck the shit out of you!”

“Whatever, man. Just get finished,” I said. “This is taking forever….”

Joey climbed up on the bed behind me, straddling my ass. I took a deep breath, and suddenly he was pushing inside me.

“OH GODDDDDD……” I moaned.

“You like that?” Joey asked. “You like Daddy fucking you?”

“Just shut up and do it!” I yelled.

He pulled out of my pussy, teasing me with just the tip, making me want more of him inside.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

“Tell me,” Joey said.

“Tell you what?” I asked.

Joey pushed in slightly, teasing my puss. “Tell me you want Daddy’s cock inside you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Joey!” I said angrily. “Just do it and get it over with!”

“Tell me!” Joey demanded, giving my ass a tremendous slap as he spoke.

“Ow! What the fuck man?!”

Another hard slap.

“Tell Daddy you want it.”

“Joey….” I said, trying to reason with him.

He slapped me again, the hardest one yet, and it rocked my body so far forward that my head bumped into the headboard.

“Alright! Fuck! I want it!” I said.

“I want it what?” Joey said.

I rolled my eyes. “I want it, Daddy.”

“I don’t think you do,” Joey said. And suddenly, he began pummeling my ass cheeks with slap after slap after slap.

I cried and wailed. “Goddammitt STOP!” Still the slaps came in.

I knew what I had to do…..

“Fuck me, Daddy!” I yelled. “I want that cock! Fuck me with it please!”

Finally, he relented. Joey pushed all the way inside me, taking my breath away and exciting my lady parts on a level I hadn’t yet experienced.

He grabbed my waist and fucked my pussy hard and deep, drawing cries of pleasure out of my lungs I had no idea I was capable of producing.

He pounded my insides, building up a powerful orgasm in me I couldn’t wait to unleash.

The bed was good quality, but nothing could have kept it in place with the force of our fucking. The headboard banged loudly against the wall. If the people next door didn’t hear the bed, then they surely heard my cries.

“Fuck me, Dadddddyyyyy!” I wailed. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuccccckkkk!”

Joey was speaking unintelligibly himself, issuing low guttural grunts and groans as he enjoyed every last inch of my soaking wet pussy hole.

“Daddy’s coming!” he managed to say just as he exploded inside me.

The force of his climax forced me to orgasm with him. Then, we were both yelling and crying out as we expended ourselves, emptying everything we had into each other’s bodies.

I fell onto the bed, exhausted, and Joey fell beside me. His mouth found mine, and it should have been awkward. Kissing my best friend. It should have been wrong. But all I could think about was how good getting fucked felt, how good lady orgasms were, and how we were probably gonna spend the whole rest of the trip inside this room fucking.

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Naked Yoga for Men

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

A while back I started to attend the ‘Naked Yoga For Men’ class in my home city of Amsterdam. Although living with a woman for many years, I had always been drawn to guys in my sexual fantasies. It started off when I was in my university rowing crew; spending hours at a time with beautiful, tall men provided me with the opportunity to explore semi naked bodies, and I liked what I saw.

Whilst firmly in the bisexual camp in my fantasy world, I have always dated girls and enjoy the romance and sexual energy that women bring to a relationship. I was happy with the way I carve things up; whilst I devoted time and emotion to my girlfriend in the real world, watching gay and bisexual porn and performing for guys on cam gave me the outlet I needed to indulge my gay side, albeit that it was never ‘in the flesh’.

I’d been taking the same yoga classes for several year when the opportunity for naked yoga presented itself.

I remember the evening well. I was changing for another session of Ashtanga Yoga that was being held in a beautiful studio in the canal belt. I was in the changing rooms when a friend of mine called Dion walked in. We met in class, and I’d got to know each other through initially through yoga socials and then by dinners and trips to the cinema together. He was a great guy to talk to: highly intelligent, with an acerbic and very ironic sense of humour.

Dion is gay, and I presented myself as straight, so our relationship was non-sexual in nature. However, there was something about Dion that I found incredibly sexy. He had a nice body, that’s for sure, but more than that he had a magnetic personality — his smile beamed happiness, and whenever he walked into a room, my eyes lit up.

Dion used to practice ballet — not professionally, much to his disappointment, but at school and through university. That meant he was very much in touch with his body — he could hold himself well, and had strong, lean muscles. He was able to get into Ashtanga poses that I could only dream of, but he was never one to show off about it. Rather, he was much more likely to offer help and encouragement. I found myself secretly checking him out in class. He’d wear a vest top and sports shorts that showed off his strong legs. I generally don’t like tattoos but the simple lines that he had on parts of his body followed his natural curves, accentuating his beauty.

Dion had been absent for a couple of months, and hadn’t been responding to my WhatsApp messages, so I was delighted to see him when he walked in.

“Hey Dion!” I called when I saw him.

“Hey Nicky!” he called in reply, genuinely pleased to see me, reaching forward to kiss me on my cheek.

This didn’t surprise me at all, he was Flemish and greeting a male friend with one light kiss on the cheek was normal. With the formalities over, we hugged each other tight for a while, reconnecting at a physical level after some time apart. “Been ages, man. Where’ve you been?” I enquired. He said it was a long story but that he’d love to catch up after class. So we entered the studio and got started. I ended up behind him in class, which was perfect for me. I could secretly check him out as he slid elegantly from one pose to another.

After class we stopped for tea and he told me about what happened to him and why he disappeared. He’d met a guy on a dating app, and having been to bed together, realised that they had more in common than just sex, so decided to commit to a relationship. This was a big step for Dion, his fiancé died in a climbing accident in Yosemite National Park a few years previously and he’d taken a long time to get back on his feet.

He told me that at first his boyfriend was unbelievably charming but that he became more and more controlling. He cut Dion off from everything that made him special — his yoga, dance classes, his work colleagues and friends. Then he tried to cut him off from his family. Dion realised how toxic the relationship had become, and having got up the courage, dumped him. He had started to rebuild his life which was why he was back in class.

That’s when he told me about the naked yoga. He had been thinking of signing up to see if he could find someone more suitable to date. I could feel my cock stirring with pleasure when he mentioned the class, but tried to play it cool, ignoring my raging hardness. Having weighed up the possibility, he decided to return to this class, figuring that he wasn’t quite ready for naked yoga.

As soon as I got home, I googled the class. I remember seeing the advert online and fantasising about what it might be like to be naked in front of a room full of guys. In my head the men were all gay and had nice shapely cocks. I started to masturbate myself as I clicked a browsed the site and saw that a beginners’ series of 6 classes were starting the following Thursday.

I built the fantasy in my mind where I was in class doing my stuff and then suddenly realise that some of the guys were checking me out. My inner exhibitionist is enjoying the fact that a room full of guys are staring at my Ankara escort naked body. I picture myself nude at the front of the class. My cock stirs to life and I start to feel blood pumping down my shaft.

This creates a ripple effect, and other members of the class also start to get hard. Suddenly I’m no longer a participant in the class, but rather I’m surrounded by a ring of naked men. And I’m now doing my best to make my yoga as erotic as possible, my erect cock on display. The other guys are trying to follow my moves, but they are distracted by my cock and their own level of arousal.

I am fisting my cock furiously as I live out this fantasy, and click on the ‘book now’ button, my face red, my body hot. I am about to shoot my load, lifting my t-shirt to prevent it being covered in come. Then I am disturbed by the click of the front door as my girlfriend Astrid arrives home and I have to very quickly tuck my cock away and open the kindle reader on my device.

My horniness has not been sated by this episode, so when Astrid comes to bed, we have the most amazing sex. She comes several times as I fuck her, unaware that whilst physically present with her, in my mind I am being pleasured by a room full of naked guys whilst I am practising my yoga.

The next morning, I woke feeling guilty and resolved that I wasn’t going to go. I was back on the website, looking for how to cancel, when I got an email confirmation from the instructor saying he was looking forward to seeing me on Thursday.

I checked the photo out that was attached to the email and liked what I saw. Jakob, the instructor, was a dancer, and so had strong, firm thighs and looked hot. I google stalked him as much as I could, finding out as many details of his life as possible. I found this amazing picture of him in tight lycra shorts, his beautifully muscled legs pumped from dancing.

I got hard again thinking about what he might look like with his shorts off. I imagined him kneeling beside me when I was in the ‘reclining bound angle’ pose, my legs open, my cock and balls on display to him. In my imagination he lifts my hand gently, placing it on his cock, before running his hand from my peritoneum, across my balls, and then to my cock. His gentle hands massage me to full hardness in front of a class of 10 perfect strangers.

Just then I hear Astrid call up to me from the kitchen, telling me that breakfast is ready. Although unsated and with my balls heavy with the promise of some cock action, I put the iPad down, slide on some pyjama shorts and head downstairs. It looks like I’m committed to attending class!

Class 1

I spend the next week obsessively thinking about naked yoga. Although experienced with women, I have never been intimate with a guy, and the thought of me being nude in a room full of men for a couple of hours is a massive turn on. I find myself searching on the internet for gay yoga, looking at every film and image that has been created on the subject.

I arrived feeling unbelievably nervous. Having parked my bike found myself standing in the street with lots of doubts. A big part of me wants to turn round and go home. As I am contemplating this I see a couple of guys walking into the building. They are laughing and chatting as they go and from the looks of things have nice bodies.

That gives me the confidence to go through with it, so I walk in, heart in mouth, not sure what to expect. What I find straight away is that the guys in the class were very chilled and good company. The people I meet are mainly returnees who have been doing this class for a while and clearly know each other. It has the feel of a social club more than a gym. Inside the building there is a small area for changing and storing bags alongside a kitchen area where you can make your own drinks and sit around a table chatting. The guys arrive early, strip and then sit around a large table wearing a sarong whilst they chat and drink tea.

As I was getting settled, who should walk in but Dion. I was surprised and delighted in equal measure, supressing a squeak as I called his name. We went through our usual greeting ritual, kissing and hugging each other.

It has to be said that Dion was more subdued, which got me thinking. I realised why; Dion was there to hook up, and people immediately assumed that we were partners. I was cramping his style. So I made a big point of telling people that Dion and I were just friends, going on to say that I had a girlfriend who I was very happy with, much to the relief of Dion.

After a few more minutes of chatting the door to the practice hall opened and our instructor called us into class by ringing a small bell. We wandered through, laying our mats out in the warm, dimly lit room.

I remember how nervous I felt the first time I slid my sarong off, exposing my naked body to the room. There were 10 to 12 of us, and on my this, my first visit, I had allowed most of the people in before me to see how things worked out before finding a space. I didn’t want to be at the front Ankara escort bayan — at 195cm tall, even in the Netherlands I stand out, and was hoping to be on the second row which was also the back row of our small class.

However, since I was one of the later arrivals, I ended up at the front. I made a bee-line for the side of the room, but the instructor nodded at me whilst pointing at a space right in front of him in the centre. That left Dion out of sight of me; he had found a space on the back row in the left-hand corner.

Being at the front made me very nervous, but I had no choice but to go with it. Because Jakob had spent some of his career dancing with a professional troop was very comfortable taking centre stage. He slid off his sarong, standing naked directly in front of me. He welcomed the class and normalised what we were doing by acting very professionally.

We started with some slow warm up exercises, and I relaxed into it. The focus and concentration of getting the poses right meant that I soon forgot I was standing naked in a room with a dozen other guys. Jakob was gentle with us, doing warm up exercises sitting cross legged. He started by showing us how to move our bodies but after a few minutes stood and walked around the class spotting.

I like instructors who do that — a skilled teacher can use their hands much more quickly to tell you how to adopt the right position than they can with their voice. I was in a ‘downwards facing dog’ position, arse up in the air and gazing softly between my legs when I noticed him touching one of the other guys in class.

Jan was a regular and had been coming to Jakob’s class for a few years, so I was surprised he’d need help with a basic pose. In the subdued lighting it was difficult to see exactly what was happening. But as far as I could tell Jakob put one hand on Jan’s back, and the other on his bum. Rather than see the firm, professional touch of a teacher, Jakob slid his hand sensually down Jan’s butt, his fingers slipping slowly and deliberately down his bum crack, before moving further down further to massage his leg.

It wasn’t clear what I had seen since it was dark and I was looking out the corner of my eye, but I could have sworn that Jan’s cock was growing and twitching as that happened.

We went through a cycle, saluting the sun before going back to downward facing dog. This time Jakob had hands on another guy, and this time he did the same thing, but used two hands on his butt, rubbing from his lower back, across his bum cheek and down his legs.

I was quietly shocked, not quite believing what I’d seen. I didn’t have much time to think since yet again we cycled through the salutation, and then were back in downward dog. Jakob moved to another guy. Whilst it was dingy, I saw a quick flash of Jakob’s cock silhouetted by the lamp at the side of the room. It had grown considerably and was perhaps 20cm long and was sticking out horizontally.

I couldn’t see directly what happened next — to do so would have required that I broke the pose and quite blatantly turned around. But I knew exactly what Jakob was up to. The lamp cast a shadow of their bodies across the floor and onto the studio wall. It reminded me of a puppet play I had seen on holiday in Cambodia several years ago. I got to see his almost fully erect cock rub up against the bum of the guy beside me as he lay his hands on him. An almost silent sigh passed the lips of whoever the lucky guy was as Jakob thrust his hips back and forth, grinding his cock into his butt crack.

The thought that Jakob was hard and humping a guy puppy-dog style in class got me super excited. Whilst trying to focus on my yoga, I was aware that my cock was getting stiff quite rapidly as I processed what I just saw. I wondered what was going to happen next. It was then that Jakob told the class that there was one more cycle of that series.

Then it dawned on me that I was probably next up to be touched. Jakob was out of sight of me, cueing the guys on technique with his voice. The fact I couldn’t see him increased my anticipation as I went back into the downward facing dog position, deliberately sliding my feet out a little wider than normal just in case he wanted to touch me. I was expecting a treat, so was disappointed when Jakob slid his hand casually over my butt, assuring me my technique was fine before going onto the next guy.

I have to say that I was rather annoyed about that, particularly when I snuck a peek at what he was doing. As his hands landed on the body of the next guy, Jakob was fully hard. Rather than standing to the side of my classmate to correct his posture, was standing behind him, his hard cock rubbing up and down his crack as he spoke.

I have to say I wondered whether anyone else had seen what Jakob was up to? There appeared to be no collective recognition that Jakob was hard and touching other guys as he ran the session. Rather people kept their focus on their Yoga and appeared oblivious to the fact that their classmates were being Escort Ankara touched.

With the exception of some really quite delicious looking and at times semi hard cocks, the the rest of the class proceeded as normal. It seemed to be accepted that Jakob touched guys as he taught them; maybe that’s why the class was full.. I was silently cursing myself for telling people I was dating a woman; it was clearly a mistake.

Class 2

I was feeling much more confident as I turned up for the second class. Usually, at the insistence of my girlfriend, I wear boring black boxers that she bought for me. When we met, she told me my underwear was too flamboyant and made a point of throwing much of the wardrobe I had when we moved in together away. However, at the back of the wardrobe I had squirreled away a beautiful pair of pink CKs with a rainbow waistband. Checking myself out in the mirror, I put on before going out, admiring my bulge and getting horny at the thought of what might happen this week.

When I arrived at the studio, I made a point of parading around in them, hoping that the other guys might react in a positive way. As usual, I was chatting with the other participants when the bell rang to signal it was time to go in. This time, I made sure I was one of the first through the door since I wanted to grab a space that let me get a better view of out what Jakob did to the other guys during class. I chose a dimly lit corner on the far right as the place where I could practice my voyeurism, and sliding off my sarong, sat cross legged on the floor waiting for the class to start.

From the off, I was watching what everyone else was doing as keenly as I could without alerting Jakob to the fact that I was checking either him or the rest of the class out. What I saw was rather sweet — many of the guys got boners during the class, their cocks growing before returning to the normal size. This made me relax — getting the odd boner seemed to be tolerated so wasn’t something I should worry about. Then, just when I started to think that I had dreamed the events of last week up, I saw Jakob touching one of the participants again.

At this point I’m standing in ‘Warrior 1’ position, one foot forward in a deep lunge with my hands up high looking at the ceiling. When I look down, I see that Jakob is touching the guy in front of me. He has one hand on the guys buttock, the other on his stomach as he tries to adjust his position. The guy smiles as he is touched, and then Jakob goes on his merry way.

We turn Warrior 1 round the other way, so now I’m facing the wall. Jakob goes to the guy beside me, I’m peeking out the side of my left eye as much as I can. This time, Jakob is more blatant, a hand on his buttock, the other on the guy’s cock. He’s squeezing and rubbing my classmates penis whilst at the same time retaining his normal relaxed voice as he cues the next move.

Watching someone getting jerked in a public place is getting to me, and look down to see my cock swell with the excitement. I’m proud of my cock — it is thick and 22cm long when hard, pointing skywards. And whilst a part of me wants others to see my erection, my shy side is a little embarrassed at my wayward cock.

Luckily, we turn back to face the other way, meaning I am at the back and not within line of sight of anyone in the class. We’re now called to ‘Warrior 2’; one leg forward in a lunge, arms parallel to our legs, pointing forward and back.

Then Jakob moves in again. This time he stands beside Jan, and rubs his semi-hard cock into the small of Jan’s back. At the same time, he’s repositioning Jan’s arms, although from what I can tell, there is little to correct.

We cycle round the exercise, and Jan does the same thing to the guy standing beside Jan. On the next cycle of Warrior 2, Jakob tries something else. Instead of standing next to the guy, he straddles the attendees back leg, allowing him to and press his cock into him. This is getting ridiculously hot — my cock is twitching like mad as I see Jakob work on this guy, who is sporting a deliciously fat boner.

We cycle through a round of poses, returning to Warrior 2 and again Jakob uses this as an opportunity to touch a participant, reaching under someone’s thigh and running his hand up towards his bum.

Again, the focus appears to be on the yoga. Tthe lights are very dim, but surely I can’t be the only one to see what is happening?? I have strong voyeuristic tendencies and watching Jakob go to work has made me really hard. My throbbing cock is itching to be touched. I fight off the urge to touch myself and once again fantasise about being touched by Jan.

Class is coming to an end and it appears that I am going to go home disappointed; I stand there wondering why I am on Jan’s shit list. Jan is winding up with a few more poses, choosing one of my favourate positions from Ashtanga in his closing sequence.

The pose is called ‘karnapidasana’ and it involves lying on your back and throwing your legs over your body until your knees come to rest either side of your head. It’s very liberating to have your bum in the air, and to feel your body curl up. And whilst there are many health benefits to doing it, I have a dirty little secret about why it’s my favourite pose: the reason that I like it is that when I am hard I can self-suck in this position.

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I was practically holding my breath, excited, anticipating. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. A part of me was humming all over with the thrill of the very prospect. The reserved, sensible part of me–the part I usually operated from- however, knew it was a bit reckless and entirely foolish.

I could still stop and turn back, call the whole thing off. There was still time. Yet, beyond all sense and reason, I wasn’t. I WANTED to do it. I wanted to meet with him.

Chase.

Just a quick, icy-blue gaze sent my heart aflutter. One flash of his sideways grin, weakened my knees. A bat of his long lashes and the husky timbre of his voice had me swooning. He was irresistible.

Pulling into the large, paved parking lot, I almost immediately spotted Chase’s dusty, black SUV.It was a stark contrast to the vivid orange line on the ground beside it. It was in a spot facing a small open-fielded area -sprinkled with tall pine trees-near the gateless entrance I had just pulled through; just like he’d texted me. I rolled into the empty space beside him.

I could hear, and feel, the booming bass of his music; see the towering trees, swaying in the breeze, reflected in his closed windows. Noticing me, he shifted in his seat, reaching to turn down the music and cut the engine.

Parked, I felt a heady rush that made me feel light and slightly faint. Totally exhilarated. And totally wanting to make a run for it. My cheeks felt warm. Was it getting harder to breathe all of a sudden? I was there. Chase was there. We were there. Together. Just us. Alone. Outside of work. For the first time. This was it. There was no turning back now. It was officially happening.

Letting out a big breath, I cut the engine and got out of the car. I couldn’t believe I was. It felt surreal, like I had been body-snatched, taken over. This was so unlike me. The thrill of it was utterly intoxicating.

Chase was already out of his car- leaning back lazily against it in a black-hooded sweatshirt and light jeans-when I got out of mine. In that outfit, his bright eyes popped. The loosely-hanging tips of his tousled caramel hair, fluttered gently in the breeze.

To steady my nerves, feeling awkward and exhilarated, I scanned our surroundings. The parking lot, reeking heavily of newly laid tar, overlooked the slightly choppy waters of a small lake. And being a mild sunny afternoon, it was, as was nearly always the case, crowded and alive with activity.

I loved the place, knew it well; been there many times growing up. It was a popular, family-friendly spot for locals; walkers, recreational bicyclists, and patrons from the nearby award-winning ice cream shop, looking to enjoy their favorite frozen treat with a scenic view.

Lots of people. Lots of witnesses. Just in case. That’s why I chose it.

My cheeks flamed just thinking about it. I knew he was staring at me, waiting, watching me pay an efforted amount of attention to everything but him. I could feel it. I couldn’t be sure of what he was thinking, but under his scrutiny, I felt…Exposed. Vulnerable. The heat in my cheeks spread to my ears.

I turned to look back at him. He was still leaning against his car, his arms loosely crossed in front of his chest, looking totally at ease. Glad one of us was. As if able to read my thoughts, he flashed a charming sideways grin, my weakness, and shoved off his SUV and took a step forward.

“Oh, no. You stay right there,” I pointed at him. Although the way I felt with him was like a drug I desperately feined for- and yearned to explore more with him closer, much closer- I didn’t entirely trust myself around him.

I was mind-boggled and tongue tied around him. My body was loose and weak with just a look from him. I felt faint at the flash of his signature sideways grin. I was completely entranced and transfixed. Just thinking about him and our previous phone conversations, spread the heat from my cheeks down to the tops of my breasts, down further. I felt slightly breathless. No, I felt safe-r with the prospect of witnesses-at the very least to hold us accountable-and a giant hunk of vehicular metal between us.

Because I was a virgin.

I wasn’t entirely sure-though after our many racy conversations I had become increasingly, desperately certain I was-ready for sex. And his apparent experience was absolutely intimidating. Then again, his experience and unabashed libidinous was exactly why I had chosen him in the first place. There was a certain comfort knowing he knew what to do, when I was clueless. But when I was near him, I was an incoherent, enamored mess. And I didn’t trust myself not to completely abandon my inhibitions.

So, oh no, he could just stay next to his driver door. And I’d stand by mine. With a car between us, all doors locked but mine, and an easy escape route handy if he tried anything….And I wanted to let him.

“Okay,”. He put his hands up in acquiescence and flashed a wolfish grin, as if he knew my thoughts. He Ankara escort seemed pleased; to be enjoying the fact that he obviously flustered me. Or maybe he enjoyed the challenge, the game; the cat and mouse. He leaned back against his car, casually, but I knew by his smile and the wicked glint in his eye, that this wasn’t over. It said: He’d stay there….For now.

My skin felt heated. The wondering was making my skin feel flush, my heart race. Would he stay put like I asked, surprise me with his gentlemanly restraint? Or, would his lust consume him and propel him forward, to break the rules and move closer? Would he be shockingly gallant, fighting his deeply primal urges for the sake of my virtue, and keep space between us? Or would the fervid desire be so unbearably intense, that he could do nothing but break the distance and try to make a pass? It was absolutely tantalizing.

“So, what do you want to talk about? You, way over there,” He asked. Good question. Biting my lip with the effort, I considered for a moment, and shrugged sheepishly. I was inept at small talk on an average day. Add overwhelming arousal and nerves jumbling all my thoughts together, and I didn’t stand a chance. Before I could offer a topic, though, I was distracted, and saved, by a child’s screech from somewhere nearby.

Looking in the direction of the sound, I saw a toddler in a small grove of trees in the near distance, running clumsily from his chaperone-playfully chasing him with arms outstretched like a monster-, squealing in delight. I smiled, tucking a wispy windblown ringlet of golden hair from out of my eyes. Then I turned back to Chase. And had to do a double-take.

He was no longer leaning against his driver’s side door. He had moved. Closer. Much closer. He was standing at my passenger’s side door. At my notice, he leered at me and his bright blue eyes flashed roguishly under a tousled mess of blond hair.

With just that one look and the wind-wafted scent of his delicious cologne, I felt tingles in places foreign to me; deep, unexplored places. A flushed, cheek-hurting, giddy smile turned up my lips reflexively. I felt momentarily stunned. My legs felt loose and wobbly.

I pressed a hand against the car door for support, hoping he didn’t notice. I was utterly disarmed by his presence. And I realized, with absolute certainty, in that moment, that keeping him at a distance had undoubtedly more to do with keeping myself in check than him.

My body reacted to his scent automatically, void of all thought and reason. It thrummed with a new wave of heat that spread from my cheeks, downward. My palms were starting to feel damp despite the mild weather. I was feeling completely unlike myself. But despite all that, I hadn’t completely lost my sanity. And I quickly regained some composure.

I raised a brow at him, reproving, flirtatious. Smiling, I shook my head. He thought he was so smooth. I snickered. Pointedly, I shifted closer to my door handle, adding just a fraction more space between us. My keys-having never left my hand-jangled quietly with the movement. He heard them.

“You’re still holding your keys?” He asked, a brow raised beneath a wavy mess of hair that fluttered gently in the breeze again. It had been an unconscious action, just habit, but with another cheek-hurting smile, I nodded, replying,

“And all doors are locked except for mine. You could be a serial killer, ya know?” I pointed out, jesting.

“Not today,” He jested back-or at least I was hoping he was-cocking his head with a grin. And I swear the arctic-blue in his eyes blazed brighter for a moment. It probably said terrible things about me that I was actually enjoying this. And what did I even say back to him? But I didn’t have to think of something witty. Because a group of rowdy cyclists passing by us, presumably back to their vehicles, stole my attention.

In fact, I realized as I looked around, that it appeared many people were, like the cyclists, packing up and heading back to their vehicles. I lifted my chin toward the sky. Despite it not seeming that long, the clear blue sky from our arrival, was now mixed with moody, fiery shades on the horizon; sunset was starting, already. The park’s curfew. The lake parking lot would be gated shut soon, for the night. Where had the time gone?

“The lake is closing,” I told him. “We have to go soon”.

“We could stay,” He tried.

“Yeah, if you wanna be stuck here all night,” I told him, sweeping away a breeze-blown hair from my face. He gave me a playful look. It said he’d have no problem with that, that we’d find plenty of…Fun things to do. I continued,

“And some of us have to be at work in the morning”. I tried to ignore the heat I felt at the erotic possibilities of us, stuck alone together for the night. My cheeks were gonna hurt the next day. I just knew it. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled-or tried to hold in a smile-so much. Then a thought hit me, “Or Ankara escort bayan murder me in the woods!,” I gasped theatrically. He smirked.

“We could go somewhere else,” He offered.

“Like where?” I was only comfortable being with him in a public place since this was our first in-person meeting. And besides the lake, residences, and run-down automotive shops-and the award-winning ice cream place that would be closing soon as well-there wasn’t much in the immediate vicinity. Surrounding the lake was mostly long, winding back town roads that stretched on for several miles; quiet and pitch dark at night. He deliberated for a moment, considering our options.

“I passed by a Dunkins on the way here,” He offered. I had forgotten about it. I hadn’t been in the area for a while, since I’d moved, and I had driven a different route to the lake. But he was right. From the other direction, there was a Dunkin Donuts, just after the small traffic circle.

I contemplated for a moment. Because it was a small city, it would be open late and there would always be people-if not only the employees-there. And we had slim options. He added, insisting,

“My treat”. I had to admit that our visit had seemed short, over too fast. And I wasn’t ready to part just yet.

“Okay, I like a French Vanilla, decaf iced coffee extra extra. I’ll see you there”. And with that, I pulled open my car door, got in, and rolled out of the parking lot, leaving him to chase after. There was a vehicle with a circular seal on its door, side-lined by the gate on the way out; a park official waiting to lock the gate at closing.

In the Dunkin Donuts parking lot, Chase pulled into the empty spot beside my parked car just a moment after I cut the engine. He got out. He had a leather wallet in one hand.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. One French Vanilla, decaf iced coffee extra extra, coming right up”. My jaw fell, leaving my mouth open in a wide O. He gave me a triumphant, self-satisfied smirk. I wanted to make the order a challenge-though to me it was second-nature-and I’d highly doubted that he’d remember it as soon as I’d finished saying it.

But he had. And I was very impressed. And with that, he sauntered across the parking lot and through the glass restaurant door-with the signature orange D handle- disappearing through it, and leaving me standing impressed speechless by our cars.

There weren’t many other patrons, so it didn’t take him long to return. A couple of minutes tops, and Chase was pushing out of the restaurant door and heading back my way, two iced drinks and two papered straws in hand. He stopped suddenly a few feet away. I watched him curiously, wondering what he was doing; why he had stopped.

“So, can I hand you your drink?” He asked with a crooked grin. “Or do I have to leave it on your trunk and back away slowly with my hands in the air where you can see them?” He teased, holding his hands up in the air-drinks still in them-theatrically. Trying, and failing to stifle a smirk, I rolled my eyes and reached for my drink; an invitation to come closer. Though as he approached, I started to feel nervous and second-guess my decision.

He handed me my drink and one of the unopened straws. I peeled it open, slid it through the clear, plastic cover, and took a big swig. It was perfectly made. Yum.

“Thank you,” I looked up through my lashes and flashed an appreciative smile. It was harder to breathe, again,now that he was so close. There was an invisible, irresistible force around him, bewitching and ensnaring me. I was helpless against it. And the closer he got, the stronger its compulsion.

His delicious cologne seduced my senses afloat the light breeze. Add that strong, square jawline, stubble, and piercing icy blue eyes, it was utterly unfair. I blinked a couple of times, trying, and failing to grasp some coherent thought. I was swooning. And by the smug look he had, I knew it was written all over my face. This was embarrassing. What was wrong with me?

“How is it?” He inched a fraction closer, leaning in toward me. By his tone, I wasn’t entirely sure he was really talking about the coffee. His face felt so close. My breath hitched. My heart practically stopped. The heat along my skin was somehow burning hotter. I stumbled a step back.

“I..It..It’s,” No. Coherent. Thoughts. What was his question? Dear God I was in trouble. This is exactly why I’d made him stay a car’s width apart. He inched even closer. I wanted so badly to reach up and trace his jawline, to tease the tips of his tousled mop of hair. I shivered.

“Are you cold?” He asked, setting his drink on the roof of my car. He unzipped his black hoodie. The movement teased up his t-shirt underneath, revealing the hard, defined indentation of his hip line. Leaning even closer-I could practically touch the skin of his collarbone with my lips, parted in surprise-he draped it over my shoulders.

He stood, hovering over me. I tipped Escort Ankara my chin up to look up at him. His eyes suddenly burned with intensity, hunger. I stood frozen, captivated, nearly breathless, by his stare. Time and gravity seemed to no longer exist. Just he alone held me to the spot at that moment; his own personal magnetic pull. I felt energized and faint simultaneously. What was happening to me? I never felt like this around anyone before. Ever. Never felt like this before. Period.

Chase leaned down, pausing an inch or two away, to gauge my reaction. When I didn’t object, he pressed his lips to mine, parting them. My lips locked together with his. I nearly dropped my drink. I had forgotten I was even holding it. His lips were soft and he smelled. So. Damn. Good. My heat spread through me, making me feel feverish.

He pulled back for a moment, gauging again. I stared back at him feeling my eyes wide, my lips left parted in surprise. My chest heaved.. I felt flush, faint. My whole body felt loose, causing me to stumble back a step, unsteady on my feet. He raised a teasing eyebrow, looking proud of himself, and leaned his face down to mine again.

This time he didn’t gauge, he didn’t wait for an invitation. He turned his body, guiding me backwards, until my back was against my car door. His front-hard and rippled- was pressed right up against mine. And though we had clothes on, I had never felt more naked and wanting in my life.

He palmed the car on either side of my head-the knobs of his muscular shoulders stretched the taut fabric of his t-shirt- barring me in. There was no way I could stumble or fall now. Not with him holding me in place.

His kiss was hard this time; more demanding, more hungry, more passionate. I got lost in the moment, the pulsing waves of new sensations rushing through me. I felt feverish, exhilarated. I responded, timidly-I was inexperienced and nervous-, but passionately. I cupped his cheek with one hand and fisted his hair with my other.

One of his hands, warm and smooth, traced along my jawline, trailing down to my collarbone. The skin slightly buzzed where he’d touched. His fingers were a pleasantly warm contrast to the cooling evening air. I let out an involuntary moan. And tensed, suddenly dying of embarrassment. He pulled away, just a fraction. His eyes blazed with desire. He liked that I moaned, I realized. Relieved. Feeling a sense of power. His response fueled me, only made me feel wanting, desperate for more.

As if reading my thoughts, he leaned in for another kiss. He shifted in his spot and the movement caused the waist of his jeans to graze the accidentally exposed flesh of my stomach. My breath caught. Something new was happening. A liquid heat deep down between my legs.

Chase had one hand still cupping my face. The other was roaming, tracing, down my collar bone, down my shirt, over my breasts-I shivered, moaned quietly-, stopping when he reached the hem of my shirt. His fingers brushed the bare flesh of my stomach. And traveled upward. Slowly. Painfully slowly, teasing. Goosebumps. My breath was coming in ragged, wanting, nervous heaves. His touch felt incredible.I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to.

He didn’t stop.

He continued letting his hand wander further up. My shirt fabric tugged gently against my skin as he did, creating more pleasurable thrums of sensation along my aroused flesh. His hand palmed my breast. Suddenly, I broke the kiss. He looked at me questioningly, wondering if he’d gone too far. I gave him a sheepish grin. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy it. Clearly I was enjoying it. I was overwhelmed, startled by how overcome with the bombardment of sensation I was experiencing. The feelings and sensations were more potent and intense than anything I had ever felt before.

Before I could explain, a faint buzzing noise from my pant’s pocket caught my attention. Hyper-aroused, I jumped in surprise. It was my phone. I slid my hand in my pocket, feeling him watch me. He made no advances as I did. A friend had texted me. I resolved to respond to her later, then noticed the time. It was getting late.

A look around us confirmed it. I hadn’t even noticed, so absorbed in him and our activities, that the sun had set and the amber streetlights were on, dimly lighting up the dark, basically empty parking lot. We were the only two outside. And only one or two workers could be seen puttering around inside the restaurant, clearly oblivious to us and our passionate tryst. Thank God.

“It’s getting late,” My voice sounded breathless, a tad hoarse, almost unfamiliar. He didn’t move. I looked up at him. “I should go”, I insisted. And I meant it. That was enough excitement for one night. Everything in me was overdrive. And I didn’t think I could take it anymore.

One more quiet moment, and he reletend, palming my cheeks in his hands and stealing one last quick peck on the lips. When he pulled away, pulling my car door open as he did,-his large shoulders bulging as he did-I noticed his chest heaving. He had been breathing just as hard as I was. I felt triumph knowing I caused it.

He motioned with his free arm, inviting me to climb in my seat. I did, feeling light and clumsy. None of my limbs were working properly. Was I safe to drive?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

A Business Trip with Benefits

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bdsm

Authors note.

This is my first ever story. And it came from an online chat with a lovely, married lady! Any and all comments or feedback welcomed!

———————————

I was tired, I’d had travel troubles getting here, actually I wasn’t even sure I knew where here was. Somewhere near the Northern Ireland coast, the train had taken awhile to get there from Belfast. I was late but not late enough to pop into the store to say hi to the store manager ahead of the meeting tomorrow. Best to say hi and then I can head to the hotel to rest, eat and well relax.

This was my first work trip since covid and whilst not always glamorous I secretly enjoyed the store visits I sometimes had to do. There was obviously the work but it was often fun meeting colleagues on the shop floor. They always had an interesting perspective. And sometimes, well sometimes…

And so there I was exiting the taxi and walking over to the entrance. Checking my phone to remind myself of the store managers name I wandered over to customer services to sign in. As I walked up there was a colleague standing behind the desk, all smiles.

“I’m here to see Natalie, the store manager” I say.

“Ah you must be Freddie from head office, Nat told us you were coming and that you were running late…” she said late with seemingly a twinkle in your eye.

“Let me take you to her, you’ll never find her office through the maze of the warehouse!”

“Ah great, thanks” I said….and we exchanged the usual pleasantries as we walked through the store. I said “I was staying at this hotel, near the sea I think.”

Straight away you replied, “oh that’s lovely. It’s right on the beach, only 10 mins from here, but a world away.” And you added that you often run and walk past it.

Before we could say more we made it to Natalie’s office and you bade me goodbye. But I swear there was that twinkle again. Putting it aside (for now) I knocked and went in to see Natalie….

“Jen, Jen…” 10 mins later Natalie popped her head out of her office asking if anyone had seen Jen. Moments later a familiar face came through her door…”Jen you live near where Freddie’s staying. Could you drop him there…saves a taxi fare and you can tell him a few things to do tonight.”

“Sure Nat happy to do so, my shift is finishing anyway.”

And so a few mins later I found myself walking out of the store towards Jen’s car. As we walked over she said…”I should warn you, it’s not the cleanest inside! I’ve got 2 kids…”

“So have I” I replied. The drive to the hotel wasn’t long and we chatted about the kids and that we were both married, and both happily so.

As she pulled up at the hotel, she pointed out the path Ankara bayan escort to the beach and said, again with that twinkle, “if you fancy a wander I’ll be back here in an hour…” And with that she departed.

Now I was tired but the thought of a sea walk was enticing. The hour passed in no time…quick shower and a change and I found myself on that path. And as I strolled down the sandy incline I could smell and hear the sea calling to me.

“Gorgeous” I said out loud, seemingly to no one.

“Yep it is,” I turned and there walking towards me was Jen. Changed into a sports bra and the tightest gym leggings you could imagine.

“Wow!” I blurted out. Quickly followed by “sorry!”

“Why sorry?” said Jen, again with that twinkle! “Come on…there’s this amazing spot a couple of kms down the beach. It’s beautiful but hard to get to…it’s a locals secret.”

“Sounds great” I replied. And as I did she reached out her hand to grab mine and pull me along. Again with that mischievous twinkle in her eye.

20 mins later I found myself scrambling over some rocks and we found ourselves in this small but magical looking cove. Beautiful golden sand, dunes to one side and a cave at the other. I stood spell bound at this sight, seemingly miles away from anywhere and anyone.

And then Jen said, “fancy a swim?”

And as I started my reply to say, “it looks beautiful but I’ve not got any trunks on…” you’d already headed off to the cave.

As I caught up just inside the mouth of the cave, you said…”who needs trunks? There’s no one here but us.” And with that you lifted the sports bra over your head releasing the, and I mean this, most perfect pair of tits I’d ever seen in my life.

Startled, I stammered…”are you sure, we should be be…”. And again whilst I spoke you acted… shoes off and then you started to ease your leggings down. There was no pretence at modesty…you faced me as the leggings rolled down your long legs. In seemingly slow motion I stared as your shaved pussy appeared.

The stare was interrupted by you…”like what you see?! What are you waiting for…” And with that you ran out of the cave and towards the sea…

Now I may be married but who could resist that kind of an invitation. My shorts and tshirt were quickly discarded and I followed you out and into the water.

“This is amazing,” I shouted as I tumbled into the sea and let the water cascade over.

“I love coming here” you said, “it’s my special hideaway.”

For the first time I took control, reaching out to touch one of those perfect pert tits.

For a second you pretended to be shocked…”I’m a married woman” you said, but as you said it your Escort bayan Ankara hand reached down and felt my growing cock…and you finished your sentence…”and I love married cock.”

I pulled you in closer, wrapping my hands around your back and head and leaned in, our lips finding each other, our tongues urgently exploring, caressing each other’s. We were half in the water, half out. Anyone could have seen us but we didn’t care. This was pure lust, carnal desire.

I pushed you away but only to lower my mouth to those fabulous tits. I sucked, I licked, I nibbled. Your moan in response was all I needed to continue. My fingers urgently went lower finding your pussy. They eagerly went in, one, two, three, four…nearly filling you up. The gasp as the 4th went in was loud. “Gently” you scolded me…and guided a finger to your waiting clit, showing me how you like it. “Let’s go back to the cave” you said…

We pulled ourselves up and walked back to the cave. As we got there I sat you on a slightly raised rock, spread your legs and leant forward tasting you for the first time…my tongue lapped at your cunt, teasing it… “play with your clit” I told you and you brought a finger down, opening up your pussy and it danced inside alongside my tongue. With your other hand you gripped my head, holding it in…

I let my fingers wander, first in your pussy and then slowly back, towards that tighter hole. The gasp as it teased your bum said everything without any words needed, gently but yes…felt you push against it and one slowly entered your ass. “Another” you said through the moans and so a second was inserted, stretching the ass further. With your ass nearly full, pussy being licked and clit played with your breathing got faster and faster…”I’m gonna cum… oh god that was amazing!”

I watched you twitch as the orgasm went through your whole body, your eyes shut as you enjoyed the moment. As it subsided you said, “now it’s your turn.”

And you jumped down from the rock pushing me onto my back. For a brief moment I had your boobs in my face and felt that warm inviting pussy rub against my cock. But you moved backwards and spread my legs…leaning forwards to take my cock in your mouth.

I closed my eyes as you licked the very tip, enjoying the precum that was there. And then slowly licked up and down the shaft. “Open your eyes” you commanded, and as I did, I saw the sexiest smile I’d seen and you opened your mouth and engulfed my whole cock. Up and down you go, sometimes gently, sometimes I feel your teeth grate against it. I’m so hard, I’ve never heard a blow job like this before.

You stare at me whilst you take me whole and you move one of Bayan escort Ankara your hands to fondle my balls…and then they move further back. “I’ve always wanted to do this” you say…

I’m uncertain and watch you put a finger in your mouth, still full with my cock and then it goes back to my ass. You find the hole…you gently push looking for permission…I nod and you push inside. I’ve never felt it before, it’s amazing…waves of pleasure and yes pain.

I react by thrusting deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat making you gag. You keep going but as you feel my cock start to throb you move away leaving your finger inside my ass. “You’re not coming yet” you say…

You shimmy forward a little having removed your finger….until your pussy is next to my cock. You slide back and your lips part for it. We both moan and hold each other as I enter you for the first time. You start to move up and down, “push against me” you cry and my hips start to thrust.

Deeper and deeper inside…we kiss urgently…I can taste my salty precum in you and you your fabulous cunt juice. We pick up the pace and as we do I slip out… Before you can get me back inside, I spin you around onto all fours. I reach under to grab your tits, and then push my cock into your very wet pussy.

Between our moans all we can hear is our bodies slapping together. You reach back with a hand to feel my cock inside you and to rub your clit. As you do I pull out and line up against that other hole. You turn your head and say “yes”…you push back feeling my cock enter you. It’s tight but feels so good. “Thrust gently” you say and I do. I’ve not been inside an ass in so long. It feels divine.

I can feel us both building for a climax. You say “please cum in my mouth”… we switch again, this time I stand up. Your eagerly grab my ass with one hand pulling my cock to your mouth, taking me in with one gulp. Your other hand reaches down to your pussy to finish yourself off. I thrust harder but you just love it…I can hear your moans as you close in on your own climax…you feel my cock start to tense…we’re close.

I cry out as the first spurt of cum comes just as you start to orgasm. Your trembling makes me spurt again and again, filling your mouth with warm cum. Some starts to dribble out and down your chin, dripping onto your tits… As I pull out, you open your mouth showing me my cum inside and then swallow it…your tongue licking your lips cleaning up some that had seeped out. I offer to lick the rest from your tits, something I’ve always wanted to do.

“Wow,” we both say breathlessly.

“How about a quick dip to clean off before we head back” you say. Somewhat reluctantly we pull our clothes back on and walk back slowly. And as we do you say, “my kids are with my parents and husband is away for work”…you pause leaving the implication clear but unspoken.

Turning to you I reply, “would you like some dinner…this is on the company and you were told to look after me…”

To be continued…

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ex Sister-in-law

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Anal

I hated my ex and didn’t really like her sister and family right now either. Carol been the one caught fucking her boss by his wife which is why we’d gotten divorced but her whole damn family backed her right from her sister Heather to her parents, Ron and Barb. Fortunately, the boss’s wife had been smart enough to snap a few pics and a bit of video of the two of them when she came home early one day so when it came to court there was no doubt that she’d been fucking someone else. Heather was 4 yrs. younger than Carol – pretty much a kid when Carol and I started dating but had certainly grown into a great looking woman; blonde, fit, bratty but sometimes you could see a bit of a wild streak in there and at least not as much a ‘princess’ as her sister but she never bloomed in the chest department. Carol had been an easy 36DD but I doubt that Heather even made it to a B cup. Both Carol and Heather got their looks from Barb, she’d had Ankara escort Carol when she was just 19 but even now at about 45, she could easily pass for under 40. Even though Ron was about 15yrs older than Barb it seemed that they had a good marriage. It had been almost a year since I’d seen her but as far as I knew, Heather was still single and working as a consultant/procedures manager for a manufacturing company.

We’d married young, I was 20 everyone had been drinking and playing tag in the pool. I went to tag her just as she turned and I ended up grabbing her tit. When I did, she yelled out, “I got tit tagged” and that pissed Carol off enough that we left about 10 minutes later.

“So you never fooled around on her?”

“No, never”

“But she said you were always ‘at work’ and weren’t there to take care of her so she figured you were fooling around.”

“That’s partly true but Ankara escort bayan the reason I was working 10hr days was to afford the house she wanted, the cars she wanted, the vacations she wanted and all the clothes and other stuff she wanted.”

I could see Heather was thinking about what I’d said before she said, “Wow, I’m sorry. I guess I should have asked you for your side instead of just believing her. So here my parents and I have been pissed at you for what you did to her when really you hadn’t done anything except work hard and try to get ahead.”

“Well, ya – that’s pretty much it. Then her and her boss started having an affair and I’m pretty sure she figured if she gave him all the sex he wanted he’d leave his wife and be able to spend all his money on her. Seems just like what she did with me because when we first started dating, the sex was daily and often more than that but Escort Ankara within a couple of years it was weekly and eventually she was having her period more often than we had sex.”

“That’s kinda funny…in a sad way. She wanted ‘things’ so bad that the two of you didn’t have time for sex and anytime I saw the two of you, I could feel the tension and then she told us that you’d been cheating on her which was why she cheated on you.

I chuckled and said, “Yup, I can see what you mean – hopefully you’ll find someone. Having seen and actually talked with you, I wish we’d done this a lot sooner because I was totally prepared to hate you for backing Carol but now, I find out she’s been lying to you the same as lying to me.

Heather looked at me for a bit before saying, “I’ve been drinking but I’m not drunk. I’ve been afraid to get involved with anyone because of my mom and my sister and now I’m here, you’re here and I’m horny as fuck. You just said that you definitely wouldn’t say ‘no. Do you want to show me what you meant yesterday by ‘two or three orgasms with your tongue first’? I’ve had a few guys go down on me but they weren’t really into it and I’m pretty sure they only did it so I’d let them fuck me.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Senior Year Memories Ch. 37

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Babes

(Usual Disclaimer Time: Even though this story almost entirely takes place in a high school setting, all the characters in this story are 18 years old or older, and since we’re living in the wide wonderful world of porno-land here, where clichés roam free and things might get a little unrealistic from time to time, please remember it’s all in good fun. This story is highly serialized, and though it’s not 100% necessary to have read the whole story up until this point to enjoy the content of the chapter, it’s definitely advisable to understand the ongoing plots.)

(Author’s Note: As always, I want to give special thanks to fellow Literotica author Lil_kitty for her excellent work as my editor and acting as a second set of eyes on this chapter, and for letting me know what did and didn’t work; if you get a chance, please check out her work and drop some stars if you enjoyed, she writes some very hot and fun stories. And of course, I also want to thank my wonderful patrons whose votes, among other things, helped block some of the more intensely kinky moments of this chapter; you guys are fantastic, and your support and input really help make putting the series out this regularly possible.)

Previously, on Senior Year Memories: It’s Valentine’s Day, and 18-year-old nerd Ryan Collins is having a busy time of it. While he has plans to meet up with girlfriends Josie Wong and Brooke King at a motel room by the end of the night for their long-promised Valentine’s surprise, he has chosen to spend the better part of the day wandering around town pleasuring women in need. As such, one by one he visits Alice Talbot, Rose Ferris, Jess Garza, Mallory Dourif, Fatima Hassan and Izzy Barnes, and gives them all orgasms. Then, while dropping off an olive branch in the hopes of rekindling his friendship with estranged best friend Tori McNeil, Ryan meets her mother (and his one-time lover), Lauren McNeil, and winds up pleasuring her as well. Heading home for a shower and dinner, Ryan finally entertains and has sex with busty beauty Brianna Roth after months of flirtation. Finally, Ryan made his way toward Josie and Brooke’s motel room, only to find his girlfriends absent, and in their place the surprise they promised: Rachel McNeil.

(CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains a fairly detailed scene involving fisting, so, if that’s not your cup of tea, please be warned now instead of giving me shit in the review section later.)

***

When my girlfriends, Josie and Brooke, told me that they had a surprise for me on Valentine’s Day, I was curious. When they said it involved them renting a nearby motel room, my interest was definitely piqued. I was genuinely curious about what kind of debauchery they had come up with that would require a venue change like this, especially when we had so many safe places already available to us where we could get up to trouble.

I thought that, hey, maybe they had something particularly kinky in mind, possibly something where a bunch of our friends would gather together for some fun like we had on New Year’s Eve. That would have been pretty fucking awesome, though with the evening I’d just had with Brianna, it would certainly take every last bit of energy I had to deal with that kind of orgy.

Never in a million years would I have expected their surprise to involve Rachel McNeil sitting on the motel room bed in only a bright red, silky bra and panty set with neither of my girlfriends in sight.

“I’ll take it from your silence that you missed me, which, yay, a girl always loves to see,” Rachel said, amused, as she looked me over. “And that your girlfriends are damn good at keeping surprises.”

That was putting it lightly.

I meant to say something to Rachel, but the simple sight of her in my presence again was… well, strangely intimidating in a way that silenced me.

Some of this came down to our history.

When we were kids and I was best friends with her little sister, Tori, Rachel had always been a real pain to Tori and me, making our lives hell seemingly just for the fun of it. In time, I’d grown to both fear and hate her. When she left for college, it seemed like a great reprieve, that Tori and I could finally flourish without Rachel’s bitchy influence to knock us down.

This all changed this last November, when I’d met an older, freshly expelled from college Rachel who had seriously mellowed. Now 22 and with a promising future in cybersecurity, she had sought out her family in the hopes of making amends for her prior behavior. While her mother, Lauren, was skeptical, Tori was outright hostile toward Rachel’s attempts at building new bridges. Normally this would have been something I’d have held Tori’s side on completely (especially since we’d been sleeping together at the time), but with Tori recently in a new relationship of her own and unavailable a lot of this time, and Rachel reaching out to whoever was available, the two of us sort of connected.

We became friends, then very good Ankara bayan escort friends, and then, quite memorably, we became more than friends this past Thanksgiving. Sex with her was… well, amazing, and emotional, and something we both knew to be dangerous but didn’t give a shit about the consequences of. At least, we didn’t give a shit until Tori walked in on us. After that, things kind of exploded (especially after Tori found out that I’d also slept with her mom, Lauren), and Tori’s and my friendship went on ice for some time. It seemed the kind of thing that we’d never be able to come back from, but I’d recently had hopes that Tori and I could patch things up.

Rachel, though… even in her self-imposed exile up in Portland, Oregon, she and I stayed friends. We regularly talked (and had cam sex, because we’re only human) via Skype, and she had become one of my closest friends and confidants. When there was something in life I needed advice on, Rachel was the person I would go to, the person I knew I could always talk to and give me some “been there, done that” experience to help me through a problem. Our relationship had evolved into something uniquely intense that was difficult to put my finger on, but one I found myself thankful for every day.

So, yeah, seeing her here was a bit of a shock, but one that set my system alight as I drank in the sight of her. At a lean 5’2″, she may not have been the most physically impressive person at a glance, but every second you looked at her, she wowed and tantalized.

Maybe it was her general punk aesthetic, with her choppy, short and glossy red hair, her nose ring, or her dark eye makeup and lipstick. Her lively green eyes looked at me seductively through dark eyeliner and shadow, lively underneath her glasses, while her lips curled into an amused smile.

Maybe it was that much of her pale, creamy skin was overtaken by interlocking, elaborate tattoos that covered her upper chest, back, sides and stomach, or the sleeve that took over her entire left arm. Smaller, more random ones dotted her legs and right arm, and it looked like she’d added several new tats since she lived in Portland.

Maybe it was all this… or maybe it was the fact that she was sitting here, unannounced, in a lacy red bra that barely held in her perfect C-cup tits, and a matching thong that looked positively delicious on the hint of her ass that I could see.

Maybe it was a lot of things that set my heart beating rapidly and made movement feel impossible. All I could do was stand there and stare at the gorgeous woman sitting on the bed of this cheap motel room in complete and utter awe of what was happening, looking like a complete and utter mute idiot.

I had always hoped that I would see Rachel McNeil in person again, but didn’t expect it to happen anytime soon. She was a busy woman leading her own life, why should I expect to see her in the coming months or years? And here she was, with me… fuck, what was I going to do?

“Ryan? Hello? Have you hit your blue screen of death? Because you look like you’ve hit your blue screen of death. I know it’s a rough place to be, but if you’re in the mood to snap out of it, I’d really be happy to catch up with you,” Rachel said, smiling, but I could sense the nervousness hiding in her voice behind her playfulness. Was this difficult for her too? How could it be? How could someone as together and confident and beautiful as Rachel McNeil be nervous in front of me?

“Ryan?” she repeated, her voice sharper and sterner in a way that summoned the old Rachel I’d feared, but with enough softness that I could recognize the new Rachel I’d come to know.

As if snapped from a deep hypnosis, I confidently closed the distance between us quickly, wrapping my arm behind her back to pull her in close, before I kissed her passionately on the lips. Unlike the last time we were together, there was no sadness or frustration. There were none of the issues made difficult by family problems that popped up around the holidays, none of the tension of wondering whether or not Tori would find out that I’d had sex with her mother and sister… no, this was just months of buildup, of eagerness and raw, animalistic need all being released at once.

I leaned down over her, and the two of us made out as only two lovers who’d been separated by great time and distance could. She felt exactly like I remembered her, but somehow better, her skin soft and responsive to my touch as she pressed her body to mine, demanding more. She moaned into my lips as we kissed, perhaps one of the most sublime sounds I’d ever heard.

“I did miss you,” I confirmed, coming up for air and smiling at her. My breath was already ragged, my heart pounding. Fuck, I never thought it would feel like this for doing as little as we currently had… but here I was, nervous and excited like it was my first time again.

“I knew it,” she said smugly, pulling at my shirt until it Escort bayan Ankara was over my head and tossed aside. Rachel looked me up and down appreciatively, and was it possible that I saw her mouth drop open in some pleasant surprise?

“You’ve been working out,” Rachel said, running her fingers lightly up my abs and to my chest. My muscles wouldn’t have me on the cover of a magazine anytime soon, but with the workouts Brooke and Peter and a handful of my other friends had put me through, I was definitely a lot more impressive than I’d begun this year.

“Yeah. That a problem?” I asked.

“I mean, I always liked skinny guys… but this isn’t a bad look for you, not at all, especially if you’ve been working on your stamina as well,” Rachel purred, her deft fingers suddenly working at my belt.

“I have,” I replied, confident.

“Fantastic,” she replied, eagerly continuing to try to tear my pants off.

Looking down, I found myself not wanting to break the moment but feeling the need to address a matter of practicality. “This… will be a lot easier if I get my shoes and socks off first.”

“Do it,” Rachel growled, undoing my belt, and just as easily unbuttoning and unzipping my pants.

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it,” I said, taking a waddling step back so I could bend over and untie my shoelaces. I’d managed to get my right shoe and sock off okay, which did feel impressive for my eagerness and shaky hands, but the left shoe wasn’t behaving. I’d fucked up the knot somehow, or just couldn’t manage it with all my shaking, and so ultimately I simply tried ripping it off.

This was a mistake, as in my enthusiasm, I sent myself spilling backwards onto the floor, quite hard. I did, however, get my shoe off, so that was something.

“Holy shit, Ryan!” Rachel half-yelled, half-laughed as I lay on the floor entangled in my own pants.

Kicking them off until I was wearing only my underwear, I leapt to my feet and exclaimed, “Don’t worry! I’ve got it!”

Still laughing, she replied, “Good… but maybe you should get over here before you find some way of killing yourself before we’re able to ‘catch up.’ I’d really rather not answer to your girlfriends for accidentally killing you on Valentine’s Day before they had a chance at you.”

“That’s probably smart,” I said, climbing onto the king-sized bed beside her. Rachel slid over to accommodate me, smiling at me with a nervous eagerness that I rather well understood.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to me and savoring the skin-on-skin contact. I could feel my own flesh breaking out in goosebumps, her pulse quickening as we were physically close for the first time in months.

“So, I gotta ask, because if I don’t ask, I know it’s just going to be a weird tension between us where one of us is going to wonder if the other will do something, so, I’m just gonna ask now,” I said.

“That was a lot of words to say nothing, but, I’m here for it,” Rachel replied.

Shaking the nerves off, I said, “Do you wanna just cuddle and talk, first, or do you wanna… you know…”

“Fuck like wild animals let off their chains?” she suggested.

“Yeah, that,” I replied, happy that she was the one to put words to it.

Rachel bit her lip gently, then looked away, thoughtful. “You know I love talking with you… and it’s not like I haven’t had *any* fun over the past few months away, but… I’ve been thinking about you for a long time, Ryan. I want to catch up and talk with you, I really do, but since I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, I’m really, really fucking horny, and would like to do something about that before we get to talking, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to adequately listen and form coherent thoughts that would line up with any human language while I’m thinking about how good that cock will feel buried deep in my pussy.”

I let her words marinate for a moment before I responded. “So, we fuck like wild animals off the chain first, then talk?”

“Then fuck like wild animals let off the chain again, yeah, that was definitely my plan. My hope, anyway,” Rachel replied, nodding enthusiastically, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

I found that grin quite delicious to kiss, as the two of us made out with a greater ferocity than before. My hands were on her, her hands were on me, and we went after each other like we were starving because, in many ways, we were. We’d had our cam sex to be sure, and plenty of intense conversations, but to be in the same room as each other with no threat of family bursting in, smelling, tasting, *feeling* each other… it was like we were two addicts for each other who were finally getting their fix.

I can say with some certainty that her hand found my cock first, gripping it and rubbing it through my underwear. I, however, managed to one-up her by quickly sliding my hand under her thin panties, my fingers quickly finding her shaved pussy. Bayan escort Ankara She was already quite wet, but I was pretty sure I could do even better as I fingered her outer folds.

“Oh… fuck yeah…” Rachel moaned, kissing me deeply as I still teased her outer sex. “That’s the good stuff… that’s what I’m talking about…”

“I’ve only just started touching you,” I said back, teasing.

“Yeah,” she retorted. “But it’s still fucking good, okay?”

“Well, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” I said, tugging at her panties with my free hand. I couldn’t get enough leverage in this position to actually pull them off completely, but Rachel was eager enough that she could easily arch her back and pull her thong from her ass. It pooled around her thighs, and sitting up, I was able to pull it down to her ankles, then tossed it away.

“Fancy underwear today,” I mused, looking hungrily down at her full, pink pussy lips. My mouth watered at the sight, taking in her pale, flushed skin, with tattoos only a matter of inches from her sensitive cunt. There was so much I wanted to do with her that I barely knew where to start.

“It’s Valentine’s Day… if there’s any day for me to go glam, it’s today… you do like it, right?” Rachel asked.

“I like it off of you,” I joked back.

She rolled her eyes. “Pretend I’m a girl who likes wearing pretty things and compliment my somewhat expensive underwear in kind?”

I grinned, reaching down and stroking her now bare pussy lips. “I think they look fucking hot on you.”

Rachel shivered from the contact. “Yeah, but you can do so much more without them, I’ll grant you that.”

“See?” I said, gently rubbing her again. She looked up at me, biting her lip and needy, as I continued stroking her pussy, now quite wet and very hot.

Without breaking eye contact, I pressed my fingertips briefly inside of her steaming folds, rocking them from side to side slightly, before taking them from her steaming cunt. They were slick with her juices, and I brought them to my nose. First, I took a long, lingering sniff, remembering the utterly intoxicating, thoroughly primal smell of Rachel McNeil’s pussy. Then, with my fingers now shaking slightly, I sucked her juices from my digits. My eyes lidded over as I once again got to take in her familiar sweetness, enjoying as it overpowered me. My cock stiffened even harder than it already had, my eyes lidded over.

Fuck, she tasted good.

“Shit, you make that look good,” Rachel said, toying with the clasp at the front of her bra. Unlatching it, she released her C-cup tits, with her firm, suckable, and bright pink nipples standing out proudly. Grinning at my no doubt dumbstruck reaction as she pulled off her bra and tossed it aside, she reached up to grab her breasts, playing with her nipples.

“I taste that good?” she continued.

“Better,” I said, my voice husky with want.

“Good,” Rachel replied. “Gimme some.”

I smirked, pressing my fingers gently into her folds again. “No problem.”

Satisfied that I had acquired enough juices on them, I pulled my fingers from her pussy and brought them to her mouth. Rachel suckled at them, not breaking eye contact with me as she removed every bit of juices from my fingers with her lips and tongue. Her eyes fluttered briefly, and a low, slow moan built in her chest, but she managed to keep staring into my soul as she sucked her juices from me. It was a powerfully erotic sight, something she had to be fully aware of, for when she let my fingers go, she smiled up at me broadly.

“Again,” Rachel said in that cool, confident voice she could manage so well.

I did as she asked, fingering more of her juices from her dripping cunt and feeding them into her mouth while she watched me. It was an unusually hot sight, seeing her getting more and more turned on as I simply fed her her own juices, but I had to say, it was getting me hard as hell, too. After already cumming twice today, I felt like I had just been given a day’s worth of energy anew at this sight alone.

Rachel clearly saw the effect this was having on me, and unhesitatingly acted on it. She sneaked her nearest hand under the waistband of my underwear and found my cock, wrapping her small hand around it and trailing up to the tip. Once she found the head, her thumb quickly found my precum and spread it around, soon moistening my cock and making it easier for her to jack me.

My moans soon joined hers as we stayed like this, pleasuring each other, teasing slowly without any need or desire to rush. The fevered pitch of our initial meeting had passed, and now it was about making each other feel good.

Of course, a quality handjob like that has a way of bringing the fevered pitch back in no time, and soon, without even being aware of my actions, I found that I was humping up into her hand.

Rachel smiled at me, then spoke in a sickly-sweet tone. “Awww, poor baby, do you need something more for your cock than my little old hand?”

I growled at her in something that was a mix of primal need and annoyance by how much that tone reminded me of how she used to taunt Tori and me back in the day. I knew that she was a better person than that now, but the way she grinned, I could tell she was trying to get a reaction out of me.

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Friends with Many Benefits Pt. 03

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Cumshots

We were on campus in one of the classrooms studying. However, no studying ever gets done when he’s in the room. He loves to talk and everyone loves to talk to him, share the juicy gossip, share stories, converse about anything and everything.

As we gossiped and studied here and there, people began filtering out as they had completed what they needed or felt satisfied enough for the night and left. It came down to just the two of us. It was getting late but we were still trying to study, getting done as much as we could until we burnt out for the night.

He was up at the front podium studying a table he had pulled up and put up on the screen. I shut my laptop, got out of my seat, and walked up to him. The podium was along the same wall as the door so sort of hidden from walkers by. I decided to change the topic on his mind. I got behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He tried to stay focused as my hands slid down his chest, stomach, and hips.

I kissed his shoulder then down his back as I slid down onto my knees. I slipped between him and the podium Ankara escort and pulled on his waistband. I looked up at him with a smirk as he smiled telling me he needed to study. I told him he could keep studying, I just wanted to taste him for just a second. I pulled his briefs down to his ankles along with his pants. I grabbed the base of his cock and began to slowly taste him. He gripped the podium as he started to moan slightly. He tried to hold his composure but I knew it would be easy to break him.

I sucked his cock as it grew in my mouth. He eventually got caught up in pleasure and wasn’t even trying to study as he watched his cock disappear and reappear down my throat. We heard a beep as someone scanned their school badge to enter the classroom. I kept my pace, just with less saliva to quiet it a bit. He covered his mouth as if he was deep in focus in the material on the screen. I heard a male voice say the school was about to close in 15 minutes and he should start heading out. I cupped his balls and fondled them a bit. He Ankara escort bayan said, “Yes, sir” and the security guard left.

I stood up and turned to face the podium. I grabbed hold of it as he yanked my leggings and panties down to my ankles. He lined his cock up and rubbed his head over my clit a few times before gliding it in my slit. I started moaning as I waited. He spread my ass and slid his swollen cock into my pussy. I gasped as he lubed his cock with my juices inch by inch. Once he was fully inside me, he grabbed a fistful of hair and plunged his cock in and out of me.

He grabbed my hips and picked up his pace. I tried to hold back moans as he thrusted in and out. I gripped the podium as he continue to pick up the pace and force of his thrusts. He wrapped a hand around my throat as he started fucking me roughly. I bit my lip to silence my moans as his cock pleasures me over and over. He pushed my hair over my shoulder and nibbled on my neck still keeping his pace. He slowed down for a second as he slid both hands Escort Ankara back down to my waist.

He pulled me away from the podium a bit and pushed down on my back to pop my ass up a bit more. I spread my legs as far as I could with my leggings still around my ankles. He gripped my hips and started plowing his bulging cock deep into my swollen pussy. We could see shadows of a few stranglers walking down the hall to leave the building as we tried to hold back any moans. He continued plowing, hitting my cervix over and over pushing me over the edge. He held me up and I grabbed the podium with a stronger grip as my legs started shaking. He groaned softly as he felt my walls clamping down around him as he slowed his pace and kept the depth of him inside me.

Just as my orgasm passed, he pulled out. I turned and dropped to me knees to take him into my mouth. I sucked him balls deep, tasting our mixed juices. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced his cock deep down my throat as he blew his load. I felt the warm ropes shoot down my throat as I swallowed each drop. He thrusted twice more, moaning with each. I grabbed the base of his cock and swirled my tongue around his head as I licked up the final drops of cum from it.

He bent down to grab his pants and pull them up as I did the same. We gathered our things and turned off the lights as we left the room.

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Good Neighbors Ch. 128

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Babes

As we were enjoying Christmas Eve together, my neighbor remarked that she needed some stuff from the store. I didn’t thing anything of it. She gave me a list of things to get, and I was off to the store. It took approximately an hour to negotiate traffic, find everything at the store, then return home. It was a bit quiet when I pulled back up. I wasn’t thinking anything was amiss when I grabbed the bags and headed towards the door. It was when I opened the door that I was shocked.

There stood my neighbor. Her hair was up, like she was going out with me somewhere. Around her neck was a thick ribbon and a bow on it. Her breasts were wrapped in the same ribbon. There was a miniskirt made with the same ribbon around her waist. She had her toenails painted a festive red as well. I stood there mesmerized. Then she spoke seductively to me.

“Merry Christmas, Master. Would you like to open your gift here or in the bedroom?”

I walked forward, the bags dropping on the floor. It wasn’t coincidence that all the things she sent me to get was not needing to be refrigerated nor breakable. I walked forward as she stood Ankara escort there. I leaned in to kiss her deeply. She looked so sexy in that ribbon. It felt like a shame to take the ribbon off her. So I didn’t at first. I guided her to the bedroom where I saw more of the ribbon on her dresser. I had a wicked idea cross my mind.

It started by me guiding her, so she was laying on the bed diagonally. I then had her move her arms until her hands were near a bedpost. I then took the ribbon and tied her wrists to the bedpost. She was starting to get a bit excited after I did that. I started to then kiss her deeply as her arms were restricted. I then took advantage by grabbing her favorite vibrator from her dresser drawer before I walked forward. I could see that she was already aroused when I turned towards her. I then climbed on the bed and started to run the vibrator over her pussy under the ribbon.

She started moaning almost immediately. I started to tease her clit, pulling the toy away when she started to edge closer. She was going crazy, thrashing a little while I teased her. Watching Ankara escort bayan her was driving me crazy. I paused for a bit just to drop my pants and have my cock out before teasing her again. I then moved so I was between her legs while teasing her. I moved my cock so the head was rubbing underneath where the vibrator was touching her.

“Fuck me!” she yelled. “Fuck me now, please!”

I moved the vibrator, so it was resting on top of her while I slid my cock inside her. I started to use the vibrator on the tip of her clit while I thrusted slowly inside her. I started to unwrap the ribbon from around her breasts before I just started pounding inside her a bit faster.

“Fuck! I’m coming!” she yelled.

I kept fucking her through her first climax. Her pussy was squeezing my cock. I leaned in and wrapped my hand around her throat while looking in her eyes.

“Come on my cock again!” I growled.

I could see her eyes close as I felt the second wave. I was enjoying playing with my present. I pulled my cock out and tapped it a few times against her pussy before Escort Ankara I bent down and started kissing and licking her. She started thrashing again, her legs squeezing my head while she had her third wave. It was then I got up and slid my cock back inside her. My hands went to her ankles, and I was slamming into her a bit more forcefully. She was moaning more.

“Cum in my cunt, Master. Please!”

I was working my way to that point. I was almost there when she yelled again.

“Come inside your girl. Mark me, Master!”

I did exactly that. My eyes closed as I could feel every bit of my desire flood her. I opened my eyes and saw her looking at me lovingly. I bent down to kiss her before I moved to the side of the bed and untied her hands. I then worked on untying the ribbon around her breasts and her waist before she moved to her knees on the bed. She took my flaccid cock in her mouth and was cleaning me off. I stood there enjoying the attention before I pulled the ribbon still around her neck to choke her a little.

She squealed in delight while taking my cock deeper. I could feel myself hardening for her again. I pulled my cock from her mouth and moved behind her, sliding into her spot for a second round. We ended up fucking the second time before we collapsed against each other to sleep. I remembered kissing her on the forehead before moaning.

“Best Christmas Present Ever!”

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