Archive for January, 2008

Big Sur

Sunday, January 27th, 2008

He’d told her early on that this was one of his fantasies…to hike up to a
campsite near Big Sur. They’d packed all the necessary gear and driven as
close as possible early that morning, thoroughly enjoying both the scenery, as
they went south on Highway 1, and each others company. She never ceased to be
amused at an easterner’s comments as they admired the way the mountains met
the ocean on what seemed to them a backwards coastline.

Several times her hand drifted to his right thigh to punctuate a remark or
just to indicate her readiness for their planned outing. How often he’d
teased and cajoled her over the past several weeks both in messages and by
phone. Words like ’star- crossed’ and ‘destiny’ had leaped, rather than crept
into their many conversations, and she felt it to be true. They couldn’t
avoid being together, at least briefly. There was no sense of needing to be
hasty in their actions, just a feeling of fate needing to be yielded to.

They were intrigued by each other in ways neither had experienced in a long
time. Their conversations were sprinkled with puns and innuendos and much
laughter. He frequently accused her of littering his office floor with
innuendos which she countered by saying the cleaning staff should take care of
them adequately.

There was both a level of comfort and the excitement of the unknown which
surrounded them today. They had slept together only once in a somewhat
sterile hotel room, the previous night. But the experience was totally
fulfilling for each of them. They had performed as lovers but also played in
bed like puppies; exploring and frolicking joyfully.

She stretched in the passenger seat with a cat-like abandon and he again
admired the curve of her breast as it pushed the knit top to new contours.
Even dressed in jeans and hiking boots she had a stately quality mixed with
the enthusiasm of a child. What an enigma she was!

And had he been able to read her thoughts he would have realized she felt much
the same way about him. Watching his hands on the steering wheel she
reflected back to the pleasurable way he had touched her body and memorized
the feel of her skin. Looking at his neatly trimmed beard reminded her of the
way it tickled her thighs as he kissed his way up her legs and beyond. He had
certainly mastered her quickly, knowing just where and when to apply butterfly
kisses to increase her already elevated level of desire for him.

Their sexual union began under the guise of being a backrub of course. How
often is that technique used the world over? But it was a pretense they were
content to play out.

Their choice to be together today was also a ruse. Each acknowledged it was a
spontaneous decision. But that didn’t explain why he’d packed the
appropriately needed items before leaving his home in Massachusetts, nor why
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Best Church for Sex

Thursday, January 24th, 2008

When I was a Jr. in High School, I finally got a date with a girl
that I had been after for quite awhile, M. M was a Senior, a little
shorter than my 5′9″, and had perhaps the largest breast of any girl
I’d dated before her, or have since. They were marvelous — very perky
breasts that, in profile, reminded me of ski jumps…

On our second date, we went to an Italian restaurant hidden in
a nearby small town, definitely not thie kind of place you’d look for
good food in Indiana. But, it came recommended from a friend of ours,
so we stopped there and asked for a table. Being that it was a Friday night,
we had to wait around 30 minutes for one of the ten or eleven tables to open
up – we hadn’t thought of reservations. So, we walked through the
retail district, window shopping at some crafts stores, etc., At least,
she was window shopping. I, on the other hand, was walking on the side
of her closest to the street, and whenever we stopped in front of a
store, the light from inside passed through her white silk blouse,
silhouetting her beoutiful breasts. I could see the outline of her
nipples and the surrounding area of raised aureola. To say the least,
I was excited. Luckily, my loose pants concealed my stiffening
member.

Eventually, we had to return to the restaurant, much to my
disappointment. We sat at the only table near the front window, where
we could watch the passerby on the street and the people in the restaurant.
(We had, on our first date, already spent a considerable amount of time
people watching — trying to decide how strangers were feeling based on their
actions. It was a lot of fun for us.)
The antipasta arrived, and we ordered some small main courses.
The evening was certainly off to a pleasant start. Then, in the middle
of our conversation, I felt a very pleasant, distinct touch on my leg.
Looking down, I saw her bare foot sliding up and down my right calf.
Just this touch was so sensual as to cause me to become extremely
aroused. I look across the table into her eyes, and tried to say “Wow-
thanks” without using words. She must have heard me, because her foot
left my leg to concentrate on the bulge between my thighs. Then, she
said, “I hope you weren’t planning on ordering any dessert…..here.”
I nearly lost it right then — how much could a high schooler take?
But, somehow, I managed to utter something clever that pleased her,
and our plans were sealed.
The rest of the meal passed in a blur. The next thing I knew
we were walking through this town with aour arms around each other,
and I didn’t know where we might be going. Now, she lived only
about 5 minutes from here. In fact, the church that she had gone to with
her parents was only 2 blocks from the restaurant that we ate in.
(BTW: No, she was no holy-roller. She told me she hated church, but
went because she feared her dad, and he told her to go.)
Eventually, we did come to the church, and she led me up the walkway
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Beach House

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008

It was the last song of the night. Thank GOD. I never thought I’d get
off that stage. It must have been 150 degrees under those lights. I saw
her in the audience again tonight. She’s been at every show. I can’t
seem to stop thinking about her.

As I enter the dressing room once again it’s packed like a sardine can.
I’m sick of partying. I just want to relax for a while.

I tell bobby to pull the car around back. I need to get out of here for
awhile. I exit to the alley in time to see Bobby turning the corner
with the limo followed by the usual bunch of groupies. A new herd in
every town. I’m lucky enough to get in before they catch up. I tell
Bobby to wait. Maybe she’ll be in the crowd. As I scan through the crowd
of salacious women, I notice she is not among them.

I have Bobby take me to the beach house.

I haven’t had much of a chance to spend any time at the new house. I
hardly could remember what it looked like. I can hear the sounds of the
waves crashing on the beach. The sound is very soothing. I tell Bobby to
go, I won’t be needing the limo anymore tonight. I give him the rest of
the night off.

Once again the sound of the waves begins to lure me to the beach. I walk
out upon the deck, then down the stairs to sand below. I slowly walk
along the beach. I’m captivated by the sight of the moon reflectinng off
the water. The is cool and brisk. My thoughts are of her now. How I wish
I new her name. Another fantasy I know will never materialize.

After a time I hear a sound from behind. Startled I turn, and it is her.
The soft light of the moon creates the impression of a dream. She looks
at me from behind her eyes of liquid blue. She reaches out to me and her
touch lets me know she is real. No words pass between us. Nothing needs
to be said. She runs her fingers through my hair and pulls my lips to
hers. The scent of her hair is soft and light. The taste of her lips is
sweet. We kiss long and hard. The feel of her breasts press against my
chest as I nibble upon the soft flesh of her neck causes my penis to
engourge itself with my hot adrenalin saturated blood. She feels my
penis pressing against her stomach as our passions increase. She slowly
lowers to her knees and unbuckles my belt. I hear the sound of my zipper
as she slowly undoes it. The cool ocean air flows around my loins. Then
just as suddenly the warmth of her moist lips slides down upon my shaft.
She places her hands on my hips and begins to move me further into her
mouth. Her tounge moves around the head of my cock as she slowly pulls
it out of her mouth. She teases me with her tounge as she licks my balls
and then sucks them. Again she takes my shaft into her mouth and begins
a thrusting rythm by pulling and pushing my hips. As I watch her my
arousal increases ten-fold. She looks up at me as she continues to suck.
She takes my cock from her mouth and lies back on the sand.

As I kneel down beside her she takes of her shirt reveal her firm,
round, glistening breasts. I take them in my hands as my lips meet hers.
She whispers in my ear “Please make love to me.” I think to myself that
even if I wanted to there would be no way I could resist. I take her
nipple into my mouth and nibble on it. She sighs with delight as her
nipples grow tense. My lips make their way to the vulnerable flesh of
her stomach. Her breathing becomes rapid as I remove her shorts
revealing the jet black panties beneath. I stroke her clitoris through
her soft silky panties and feel that she is wet and inviting. I tear her
panties off in haste as her moans become deeper. I taste her delicate
juices as my tounge ventures within. The muscles in her legs begin to
tremble as I bite her clitoris. She places her hands on my head and
pulls it tighter against her vagina. Her hips begin to move about as I
fuck her with my tounge. She screams with passion “TAKE ME NOW”.

I rise to my knees as she rolls onto her stomach. She also rises to her
knees and I take her from behind. I grab her hips and slowly place my
shaft inside her. As I fuck her from behind she screams for me to thrust
faster and harder. I hold onto her breasts as I THrust in as deep as I
can go. I thrust harder and harder. I feel her juices flowing down my
shaft. I am consumed by the flames of her passions. She cums again and
again, until finally my cock explodes within her. Exhausted I fall to
the beach next to her. She rolls into my arms and together we fall
asleep on the beach.

As my eyes open I find her still with me and the beach deserted. It is
morning now and she looks at me longingly. We make love again, It’s even
better this time.

Rod Sandy At The Beach

Tuesday, January 22nd, 2008

Sandy and Rod were enjoying thier first outing in a long time, wandering
along the beach in genial conversation, watching the seabirds skip and
dive for fish.
Rod fell back a ways, enjoying the view as Sandy’s pert little ass
wagged as she walked. He had always enjoyed her company, but these days
he was constantly preoccupied with her body whenever they got together.
He wanted her very badly, but she had never paid the slightest bit of
attention to any of his advances.
Suddenly they came upon a cleft in the rock. Rod was still behind her,
and bumped into her as she stopped suddenly.
Wondering what was up, he looked over her shoulder – and almost fell
over with surprise! Down in the crag, another couple had spread some
blankets out, and were fucking like crazy!
From this vantage point, the view was great, and they could easily see
the man’s turgid shaft, shiny with the woman’s juices, slipping easily and
rapidly into her soaking cunt.
After watching for a bit (and getting incredibly turned-on by this
surprise performance), Rod glanced at Sandy – and was stricken dumb again!
She stood there mesmurized by the sight, lips slightly parted in passion,
as her fingers, seemingly of thier own accord, slid her shorts and panties
aside, and started massaging her pussy!
Poor Rod wasn’t sure what to do! Here was his friend, whom he’d always
thought a bit of a prude, standing in the wide open, rubbing her cunt in
the open air for all to see, while watching another couple getting it on!
Never one to let opportunity pass, Rod moved behind her, wrapped his
arms around her, placing one hand over hers on her cunt and wrapping the
other under her rib-cage, he whispered gently that she ought to sit down
and get comfortable, and gently bumped the back of her knees, easing her
down.
Glancing about to see that they were now more-or-less secluded, he
worked one hand under her tight T-shirt, and began fondling her firm,
round breasts. Her nipples were hard as rocks, and as he started pinching
them, her legs parted. Taking his cue, he worked his middle finger into
her sopping snatch, smearing her juices around ans over her clit, which he
then proceeded to stroke lighty.
Suddenly she seemed to break out of her spell and realize what was going
on. She almost seemed ready to protest, but the feeling of Rod’s hand on
her cunt quickly changed her mind. Reaching back and grabbing his cock
through his shorts, she turned to face Rod. “I want to feel this thing
inside me”, she said to him in a husky voice.
“Sure thing babe”, he said, “but first I want a taste of your creamy
cunt!”, and so saying, he manoevered around her, worked her shorts and
panties off, and drove his tongue into her twat.
Swirling his tongue around, he sucked her steamy juices out greedily,
his lips massaging her lips while his tongue made occasional passes ovr
her clit. In no time at all, she was cumming, squeezing his head in her
thighs, as ograsm wracked her body.
When finally her climax subsided, she lifted Rod’s head, looked him dead
in the eye, and said, “That was wonderful, but I want to feel your COCK in
my cunt… NOW!”
Seeing the hunger in her eyes, Rod was only too willing to oblige.
Crawling atop her, he placed his cock at her opening and pushed gently…
Then suddenly she dug her fingernails into his ass, pushing him into her
forcefully! Her mouth hungrily sought his, and she was squirming beneath
him like an eel out of water!
Rod finally got that she was really out for a ride, so he started
fucking her with long, hard, fast strokes, his cock stiff as a board while
her tight pussy made squishy noises with each driving stroke.
Disengaging her mouth for a moment, she cried, “That’s it, you stud!
Fuck me! Pinch my tits! Drive that cock into me! I LOVE IT!!!”
With her cunt clutching his tool like a vice, Rod knew that he wouldn’t
be able to hang on much longer, so he redoubled his efforts to fuck her
fast and furious. Apparently this was what she needed, for with
animalistic groans, she suddenly threw her legs aroung him and started
cumming voilently, her cunt pinching hard on his shaft, and her pussy
gushing juices.
This was all Rod could take, and he drove deeply into her and began
spurting his own juices.
When finally it was all over, they lie together recapturing thier
breath, when Sandy said, “What’s that?” Looking down, they saw the other
couple, whom they had been watching, looking up at them – and aplauding!

Beach Fantasy

Sunday, January 20th, 2008

It is early morning, and you are the only one on the already-warm
sand of the beach. Low surf rolls in from the horizon, and
seabirds wheel in the sky overhead. Shaking out your towel and
stretching it out on the ground, you quickly peel off your shorts
and T-shirt, to reveal the sexy yellow bikini beneath. Its tiny
swatches of fabric do little to conceal your full, thrusting
breasts, or the firm shapely mounds of your buttocks. You run
your fingers lightly over your taut skin for a moment, then lie
down to let the sun’s warmth fall on you. After a few moments,
you decide to expose yourself completely to the brilliant blue
sky, sliding the skimpy panties down off your long silky legs,
and pulling off the bra to let your breasts bob freely, the
nipples hardening in the gentle breeze. Opening a bottle of
coconut-scented oil, you massage it over your body, making sure
that your pretty white tits and delicate shaven pussy get a thick
coating of the slippery protective cream. Your body glowing in
the sun, you lie back and are lulled to sleep by the crashing
waves, squawking birds, and pleasurable warmth.

The sound of footsteps crunching in the sand awakens you. Shading
your eyes against the sun’s glare, you see a man approaching. I
walk up from the water, still wet from my morning swim, long legs
carrying me quickly up the shore. Rather than grab for your
clothing, you recline on your elbows, thrusting out your breasts,
and part your legs slightly so that the pink slot dividing your
hairless pubic mound is clearly visible. As I near your resting
place, my steps slow to a standstill, and I drop to my knees
beside you. My eyes roam all over your naked body, and you can
see the squirming in my shorts where a cock is quickly growing. A
moment later the crimson cap of my penis pushes up through the
waistband of my swimsuit, still visibly swelling. Chuckling
throatily, you slide a hand across your smooth stomach to where
the bottle of oil is lying in the sand, and toss it over to me.
Then you roll over pillowing your head on your crossed arms,
presenting me with a wonderful view of your glorious ass.

You hear the bottle cap snap off, then feel the warm liquid as it
drips onto your gracefully curved shoulders, running down your
spine to the top of your buttocks. After a moment’s delay, you
feel my legs straddling you, and the hardness of my cock against
your back. I am gripping it by the base with one hand, using it
to spread the slick coating of oil over your skin. Stroking it
over you, I steadily move lower until I am sliding it over the
soft hills of your ass, and the sweet valley inbetween. Your
pussy is becoming inflamed, and you can feel it becoming wet with
an oil of its own. I continue to slide farther down, until I am
rubbing myself against the back of your smooth calves. Rolling
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Aussy

Monday, January 14th, 2008

“I hereby give myself over to chronic masturbation”, I announced to
myself. My words were chopped up in the ceiling fan and then fell dead in the
silent flat. Traveling alone to Cairns, Australia was exciting in one way. I
mean there is the barrier reef and islands and topless beaches. But in other
ways, such as at nine at night and being in a place where there were strict
blue laws, well it was not so exciting. But laying in bed and lubing my prick
with baby oil was giving me very little satisfaction. I felt restless. I had
to move.
That is why I ended up cruising the bars. One was sort of fun. I danced
with some women but nothing seemed to spark and the music and noise became too
much to bear. Finally I stumbled on the sidewalk of a storefront (oh yeah, I
guess I drank a few blue tinnies also) in which the window was blackened out.
It was about a block from the docks where the reef boats departed and it looked
deserted. There was an “ADULTS ONLY” sign on the painted black glass. I
decided to give it a shot. The inside was much cleaner and brighter than the
outside would have suggested. The walls were covered with racks which
contained soft porn magazines. Directly in front of me was a glass case which
contained various dildos and fake vaginas (one that even pulsated!). To the
right was a curtained entrance way which had a handwritten sign over top: FIVE
DOLLARS – ALL DAY. What really caught my eye was who was behind the counter.
I couldn’t believe that a woman who looked like that could work in such a
place. She appeared to be in her mid to late twenties, slender, with short
blonde hair. Contained in a loose string tie top were two perkie, firm looking
breasts. She was busy SEWING! of all things and every time she pulled the
thread there was a solid but definite tremor under her top. Her nipples stood
out as they rubbed against the fabric like the tips of two pinkie fingers.
“What does five dollars all day mean”, I interrupted her conversation and
pointed to the sign.
She looked up, her eyes were blue, and she smiled.
“Those are x-rated movies luv. They run all day. We’re not allowed to
have any of the hard stuff in print but it’s dinky di if we show movies.”
“O.K., I’ll take a ticket”, I said.
I handed her a fiver and she touched my hand for a moment.
“We usually don’t get young ones in here”, she said as she continued to
smile at me.
Out of fear I broke the contact but I still wished to bask in her
presence.
“Is that sewing your doing?” I asked.
“Ah Yeah. We have a live sex show coming up soon and I’m making the
costumes. It’s one week from now. You really ought to come if you are in
town.” She answered.
“Ah! That’s no good,” I say, “I’ll be flying back to Alice at the end of
the week.”
“That’s too bad, luv,” she said as she went back to her sewing.
Walking through the curtain was like walking through the entrance of a
cave. The room was dimly lit. Chairs and sofas were arranged in front of a
large screen television. Some men were sitting and drinking beers they had
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Anal Sex Circus

Wednesday, January 9th, 2008

Unlike so many of the bawdy houses of Amsterdam, the building bore no
signs. In fact, as I stood in front of the chipped, black door marked
#12, I almost thought it was all a practical joke. What did I know
about the strange Hazraj, the turk who, in drunken friendliness at the
hotel bar, had insisted, “A whore’s a whore all over the world. You
don’t need to visit Amsterdam for that. But…the Anal Sex Circus!
There is not another anywhere.”

I rang the bell. Was this really the place — or was he having a
joke at the expense of a white British tourist? When the door slowly
opened, I realized that he was indeed a friend! Stepping into the
interior of the townhouse, it was a though I had stepped through tent
flaps and into the most opulent carnival ever.

There was actual sawdust on the floor. The air smelled of beer and
popcorn. The big main room had concession stands where they were
selling popcorn — delicately laced with hashish – and white cotton
candy, also drugged. Beer and liquor were being sold by men in straw
hats, red vests, and white striped shirts.

Garish rotary lights whirled a dizzy array of greens and reds into the
air. Semi-nude women — black, Asian, and white — escorted the
various men as they ate, drank, and laughed uproariously. In
different languages, a barker in a derby hat shouted at the back of
the room, “Hurry, hurry. Step right up! Come, Come, Come to the Anal
Sex Circus!”

If the mad Turk Hazraj had not been so explicit in his description of
the place, I don’t know what my reaction to this bizarre spectacle
might have been. A beautiful Eurasian girl glided up to me. I
ordered a cafe pousse at the bar. In American money, it cost me about
$20. I was going to order one more for my “hostess” but reconsidered:
“You wouldn’t drink, would you? Just water one of these plants with
it.” I slipped here $20 cash instead. “Let’s call it a contribution
to the continuing survival of horticulture.”

She dutifully explained the “play” at the Anal Sex Circus. After I
finished the drink, I walked back to the back of the room where a man,
dressed in imitation of an American carnival barker, guarded the
entrance to the upstairs rooms. I bought two tickets ($100 each)
which entitled me to see three “shows” of my choice. The tickets were
actually more like plastic credit cards.

With insane calliope music blaring down the corridors of this two-
story townhouse turned madhouse, I made my way upstairs. In the old
carnival midways, you’d walk along seeing the posters for the midgets
and fire eaters and freaks. You’d pay to go into the tent to actually
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Alma

Thursday, January 3rd, 2008

I was in the window seat of a Piedmont 737, taxiing out at
Washington National that morning. My destination was New Orleans
with a change of planes in Atlanta. As we passed the transient
ramp in front of Butler Aviation, I saw my old airplane. It had
been repainted, but bore the same numbers along each side of the
fuselage. The sight of it brought back a memory from the 1960’s
that marked the highlight of my brief career in commercial
aviation.

Officially, the airplane’s registration number — and radio call
sign — was N-5558B. But to my two partners and me — and to
the tower crew at her home airport in Opa Locka, Florida —
Beech Travelair N-5558B was “Triple Nickel 8-Ball.” She was a
outside business venture of three lawyers — my two partners and
me — who shared a criminal-law practice in Miami, and a love of
flying. Sherlock — the name my father, an Arthur Conan Doyle
fan, gave me — earned the law firm some early publicity, and we
were doing well enough to afford to buy Triple Nickel 8-Ball. Our
aviation business involved flying bags of bank checks from Miami
International Airport to Atlanta Hartsfield Airport where they
were taken by van to the Federal Reserve Depository for
processing. The income was predictable; but the flying wasn’t –
particularly in the summer when the Florida thunderstorms topped
out at about 40,000 feet.

What we admitted, to everyone but the I.R.S., was that our money-
losing business was just an excuse to fly and hang around the
airport’s Fixed Base Operation trading lies with the other pilots
and would-be pilots that inhabited the pilots’ lounge.

There was a flying school there — a collection of Cessna 150’s,
young instructors with their eyes set on the airlines, and
students from the local area. Late afternoon usually found a
fair sprinkling of women in the pilots’ lounge; some of them
students, but mostly the girl-friends of the students and
instructors. They all knew about our operation, and with
suitable hints, could wrangle a ride in Triple-Nickel-8-Ball on
our Miami-Atlanta-Miami trip when we wanted the company.

A few weeks before, the female “regulars” in the lounge had
jokingly announced formation of a local chapter of the “mile-
high” club — and that subject had replaced discussion of
instrument-approaches and engine overhaul prices. As I
understood it, the rules were simple: sex above 5280 feet,
unaided by co- (or auto) pilot. The novelty of the topic wore off
after a while; but one day a female student showed up with a
small pendant hanging from her neck on a gold chain: a set of
…End of the part1. To be continued..