What to Expect – A new story

It has been a long time since I have thought of either Jean or Katherine, much let the two of them in the same bed. Still, they are two of my favorite characters, and when they decide to get together, we should all pay attention to their antics. Here is the latest of their adventures.


Larry did not know what to expect when he saw Jean sitting on the couch. From the way she chewed her lower lip, he suspected she was not sure what to expect either, but he did not have time to consider as Katherine stepped up in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered in his ear.

“Undress me, slowly.”

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Can I Borrow You? – A new story

I have not been in a writing mood of late, yet, I had this dream the other night, and this came out. Not sure if I am finished with it or not.

Baseball season was in full swing when the text arrived.

What are you doing next weekend?

Nothing, I don’t think

Can I borrow you?

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Unexpected – A new story

I had some free time yesterday, and some stimulus, so I wrote this little story.

When the call came, of course, I said I would help. After more than a year of being cooped up inside and limited human contact, the ability to not only get outside but actually have some human connection, even if it was behind a mask and socially distant. They canceled the race last year, one of the first of many events that fell victim to COVID-19, but it was not the last. With more vaccines and a better understanding of what could and could not be done during these times, more activities spun back up, and more people came out to help.

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How Long Is Too Long?

Once Upon A Time All good stories should start that way. Once upon a time, I had a friend confess to me that she had once dated a guy, for a short period of time, and despite his prowess in the bedroom, she found he was too good.

Huh?

It seems that he could pound away for a considerable amount of time (I never asked for exact details). And I was not sure what the problem was. She tried to explain, but personally, I did not get it at the time.

Then I saw this article today How Long Should Sex Last — Does Time Really Matter?

And now I get it. At least theoretically.

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To bush or not to bush

Full Disclosure: I am a male, so this is just my opinion. What you, as women, chose to do is really up to you.

I have been debating the whole idea of female pubic hair display1. From my reading and other discussions with actual women, there is a wide variety of opinions and preferences about whether a woman has a full bush or shaves bare. This can be for aesthetic reasons, for reasons of sensitivity, or other less exciting thoughts (it just looks better). While I have a preference, I am noticing a trend on the Internet where every woman is not only shaved but shaved bare, and I am not finding it attractive2. I sometimes wonder what a bit or more of hair would do to the image and whether it would be something I would not want to see.

I know that in the past, I have derived pleasure from seeing the multiple states and determining which one I prefer, aesthetically3, or learning which one my partner likes. Indeed, I cannot tell these models to let it grow back but sometimes I wish I could. I wonder if that reflects having grown up between the era of women with full bushes and then watching the trend to the bare pussy. Like most things in fashion, it will probably revert again. Or maybe not.

  1. See Disclosure
  2. See Disclosure
  3. See Disclosure
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Happy 💞 Valentine’s 💗 Day

And for those that do not celebrate, you are still entitled to a 😘

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Curiosity

What’s that old saying? Enquiring minds want to know? Maybe the January winds have knocked the dust off the rafters, but I am curious. For example:

  • When you decided to sleep with Armand, what caused the change of heart? Did he convince you? Or was it your new-found freedom that emboldened you to do it? And you mentioned he had stamina, but you did not seem enthusiastic about this, and I never found out why.
  • Did Raymond know he was going to spend the day in bed with your that rainy day? Did you plan it, or did it just happen? Did you know about his piercing before you first saw him naked? Or was that not the first time? Did it really make it easier for him to take your anal cherry that afternoon? Did you let him tie you up, or was that saved for later adventures?
  • I know Thermopolis had a negative experience with receiving oral sex. Did you ever bring him around to enjoy it, or did you have to find some other way to stimulate him? I have often wondered what you did.
  • You once said James was more endowed than I was, yet, you continued to sleep with me several times. I often wondered why? What did I have that he lacked. After all, size is everything or so we are told.
  • When Alex passed his kidney stones, you remarked that they were large, just like him. Were you referring to his physical stature because he is not a small man, or was it concerning that confidence you did not want to break? And again, why me?
  • And then there are the things I don’t know. Do you think about those other men at all? Or are they footnotes in history? Am I?
  • I also wonder if you have a hidden fantasy, or kink, that you do not mention. What is it that gets you wet when you imagine it? Do you want to make it more than a fantasy? Have you already? Was it as good as you hoped? Is it still a work in progress?
  • Has he ever walked in on you while you pleasured yourself? Did he stay? Did he offer to help? Did he turn and leave? What would you have wanted him to do? What would you want me to do?
  • Lastly, although only in this list, I found this while purging some old texts. If you had the opportunity to be professionally photographed for Playboy/Playgirl, or pose for a statue by Michelangelo, which would you choose? and you answered Playboy. I would like to be more comfortable being an exhibitionist. Which I always found interesting considering how reticent you were whenever I tried to take your picture, much less your picture nude. Maybe I should have set up more of a studio.

The answers do not matter. It will not change the past and will not affect the future. I am just curious, that’s all.

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The Fitting Room

Sandy teased Rich and Craig unmercifully as they moved from store to store. They both volunteered to go shopping with her when she said she needed a new skirt. After the first two stores, where she was pretty sure she would not find what she wanted, she finally ducked into a trendy little place with tight rows and bright colours.

“How about this one,” Rich asked.

He held up a tight, A-line style flowered print skirt.

“No, this,” Craig said, with a pleated blue skirt.

“They’re both interesting,” she said, as she took them from the boys.

“We have a fitting room back here,” the salesgirl said, indicating a row near the back.

She held the door open for Sandy. When she did not close it immediately, she waved at the boys, and they followed her into the room.

“Think she’s watching on a closed-circuit?” Sandy whispered as her hands rubbed burgeoning erections.

“Could be,” Rich said.

“Wanna give her something to watch?”

Rather than wait for an answer, Sandy pulled down the zipper on the skirt she wore, and dropped it to the floor, then bent over the bench seat, wiggled her naked ass, and closed her eyes. She heard the zippers drop in unison, then a bit of shuffling before she felt a cock press against her swollen pussy lips. A moment later, she gasped as the cock disappeared inside her molten core. Her exhalation was interrupted by the head of another cock, pressed between her lips. A moment later, it slipped into her mouth, and she greedily swallowed it. Craig’s cock, she discovered because she sucked on Rich’s, pounded in and out of her pussy with abandon. She reached between her legs and found her clit. She pinched and rubbed it as she stroked Rich’s cock. The race was on, and she knew what she wanted. The pressure was too much for Craig, who poured his cum into Sandy’s cunt three pumps before Rich unloaded down her throat. She slurped down as much of Rich’s cum as she could. Some oozed out of the corner of her mouth as she finally brought herself off with a quiet gasp.

Rich shoved himself back into his jeans. Sandy turned around and cleaned up Craig’s cock before he put it away.

“That was fun,” she said. “Now, which skirt? I think the pleated one. Easier to push out of the way. What do you think?”

Both men pushed themselves against Sandy and kissed her.

“Definitely the pleated one,” she said.

She pulled on her skirt, and the three of them went out to pay. No one commented on the flush on the salesgirl’s face when they left.

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Angie’s Massive Mammaries

Once upon a time, I had a friend with a DD chest. 38DD to be specific, before she had children. Her favorite tease was to forgo her bra when I was around. Angie is not based on her. But I remember those days well. In her honor, here’s a small story.

Mike looked around the room. Something woke him from a deep sleep. He heard it. A banging. He waited. Jean would get it. It continued. Then he remembered that Jean was out of town. It was after midnight. Why did Jean’s girlfriends have to bang on his door when he was not there.

“OK, OK, I’m coming.”

He staggered to the door of the suite. The rest of the room was dark, which met his mood. Rather than looking out the peephole, he just pulled the door open.

“What the fuck?” he asked.

“You should wear pajamas.”

“There was fog, but the woman pushed past him, closed the door, then kissed him hard, while her hand grabbed his cock.”

“Strip me,” Angie said.

Mike shook his head.

“Angie, what? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, so strip me, fuck me, and let me cry on your shoulder.”

Mike shook his head again and finally noticed what she wore. A dress. A little black dress, heels, makeup, tear-streaked. And he was naked. His cock swelled slightly, but he tried not to focus on that.

“Sorry. Come on.”

He lead her back to his room, where he turned her around, unzipped her dress, and pulled it off. Underneath, she wore her best set, as she told him, and thigh high stockings.

“Sit,” he directed.

He removed her heels and then rolled her stockings down her legs as if he knew what he was doing. He reached up and pulled her panties off, then her bra with less emotion than a rock. He pulled her up and into the shower, where he washed her clean, stripped off her makeup, perfume, and glitter before he dried her off, and pulled her down next to him in bed. Her tears coursed hot trails across his chest as she cried. All the time, he just held her close against him, despite the throbbing in his groin. Her hand lay close to his erection, yet he still resisted.

“Sorry,” she said eventually.

“I’ll add it to your bill.”

“You’re silly.”

She hiccuped, then hit his chest.

“Fuck.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, yes. No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“My boobs.”

“Your boobs? What about your boobs?”

“He hates my boobs.”

“He’s gay?”

“Might be.”

“Want to tell me?”

“He said my boobs were unnatural. Like, as in I got implants.”

“Does he need character witnesses?”

“Bastard!”

“If you keep hitting me, I will have bruises.”

“Sorry. Not your fault.”

“He can’t handle magnificent mammaries?”

“Clearly not.”

“His lost. Did he even get to find out how sensitive they were? How much you enjoyed having them played with? Come on, a tit fuck? He’s gay.”

Angie laughed through her tears as he described the options.

“Seriously, does he only like a full bush and A cups?”

“Probably,” she said with another hiccup.

“His loss.”

“Yeah.”

They laid together like that for several minutes.

“Mike, would you …”

“Anytime you want.”

Angie kissed him, gently at first, then with more passion, more desire, more need. She moved her body over his and held onto him as she plunged her tongue into his mouth. Mike held her close and kissed her back as she moved her hips over his. She mashed her tits into his chest.

“Rollover,” Mike said.

“What?”

“Rollover.”

Angie rolled onto her back, and Mike moved her to the middle of the small bed where he straddled her waist.

“These,” he said, wrapping his hands around her tits, “are massive. They are also magnificent.”

He bent down and kissed both mountains before he sat back up and looked into her eyes.

“Last time, you wanted me to fuck them. But you wanted my cock inside of you more. Yeah, I don’t have to tote them around. But I love that you let me touch them, kiss them, tease them, and suck them.”

As he talked, he slid down until she could feel his cock.

“They excite me; they make me hard. If you want my cock between them, you have only to ask.”

He bent over and kissed her again.

“I want your cock inside me. Deep inside me. Now.”

Mike did not hesitate. He pushed her legs apart, then slid into her. Angie moaned. Mike moaned as well.

“Your cock is delicious,” she said.

“Your pussy is not so bad.”

He bent his head and sucked her nipple. Angie bowed her back, and he rammed into her.

“Fuck, yes. Do that.”

Angie did not hold back, and Mike gave her his all until she clamped down on him a moment before he filled her.

“Thank you, thank you,” she gasped. “Thank you.”

Angie fell asleep before he lay beside her. He pulled her into his arms, kissed her, and pulled up the sheet over them.

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Next, 2021

Good evening and welcome to 2021. Maybe this year will allow us to kiss our loved ones, have unrestricted sex, and forget that one kiss might put us into the ER. And you thought AIDS was a deadly STD.

So, seriously. Wear your mask. Forget about sex, and take up a hobby. Basketweaving. Photography. Cards Against Humanity. Your call. Stay safe.

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