My Most Nasty Master, you lead me by a leash attached to the ring
you have pierced through my clit. My arms are bound behind me,
the cuffs placed just above my elbows and cinched tight. I walk
unsteadily on my widespread knees, dragging the bar shackled
between my ankles as the chain remains taut between the ring on
the …
Tag: Fisting
“You heard about Nancy Jenson, didn’t you?” I was out raking our front
yard and our neighbor Diane was talking to me. I hadn’t known she was
acquainted with Nancy Jenson and briefly wondered whether she was
talking about the one that I knew.
“You know Nancy?” I finally asked.
“Yes. You heard that she and her husband are separating, …
Read More →“Oh BA-by baby have you SEEN a-MY to-night?
IS she in the BATHroom? Is she SMOKin’ up, outside?”
I sang as I unpacked, my two cabin-mates joining in as we worked.
I loved this song, perhaps because I shared the name of the main
character. I nodded in time to the music, replaying the music
video in my mind as …
An all-girl sixty-nine.” Linda didn’t have to speak to give her answer. She was drooling with
lesbian lust. Sue bobbed up on all fours and crawled to her naked mother. But before
they curled into sucking position, they couldn’t resist kissing. It was
no ordinary mother-daughter kiss. Their tongues lanced down one
another’s throats while their tits pressed together. Then, …
Her cunt was so hairy that a wispy trail grew up as far as her navel
and into the crack of her ass. Hers was such a beautifully fuckable
pussy and she knew it–which was just the problem. For, despite her
teasing, sexy ways, Sue Jordan was still a virgin. God knew how she’d
tried to lose her cherry. But …
As consciousness returned Sam became aware of the ache in his
shoulders….and an overwhelming need to piss. “Where am I?” drowsily
he asked the darkness.
This question – though revealing much about our hero’s own innocently
cliched assumptions – got no reply. So he dozed off again, waking
however many hours later feeling no less numb and muddled. The pee…
The sounds, panting, grunting, screaming, the slap of
wet flesh against wet flesh and of bodies against a
surface, grew still louder. But raucous as the sounds
were, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I stepped
around the last corner.
From where I stood, all I could see was the back of a
buck-naked guy, with a girl’s …
Seven P. M. on a Thursday evening, a weary Betty sat on the bus heading back to her new flat. She didn’t hate it, but when she thought were she had come from it left her quite depressed. Betty was almost 62 and after a late marriage at 49, she’d been left divorced almost penniless and pretty broken four months …
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