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At last it was time to leave the office and proceed to the street again. My breathing was inconsistent and my normal walk with the perky stride was impossible. I alternated between almost running and slowing to a very slow pace, trying to arrive at precisely the right time. As I approached I was disappointed to see no one there. Suddenly, a car horn broke into my thoughts and there you were. A Black 1957 Thunderbird, with a white top. Naturally it was in mint condition and sparkled all over. You reached over and opened the door for me. As I climbed inside my dress raised a little to show you my left thigh.

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It so happened that we didn't fuck for about three days after that. On the average, we fucked about every eight hours, so this was quite a long time. And it was just as well, in a way: "My asshole is sore." "I -- I'm not surprised," I said. "I wish it wasn't -- but I liked the way it got sore." I thought about my next words. "And so did you." Her eyes blazed at me. I saw the anger beginning in her face - - and then it collapsed. "I know -- but that's what the gay boys do, isn't it? Do you wish I was a boy?" I started to laugh -- and then realized she was only half- joking. "June, I like licking your cunt," I said quietly. "And so do you. Does that mean you wish I was a woman -- since cuntlicking is what lesbians do?" Her eyes half closed and she shivered. "I know!" She seemed amazed. "It makes me itchy when you say that -- but you know I don't like lesbians." I licked my lips and stepped toward her. She put her small hand against my chest, keeping me away. I didn't press it. Even if I'd been the kind of moronic asshole who tries to force himself on someone else, there was something else to consider: June had been an auxiliary cop in Singapore, with the attendant martial arts training. We'd sparred playfully a few times. She was just as fast as I and a helluvalot more deceptive in her movements. I knew I could absorb enormous damage, and use my superior strength to prevail, but I had no desire to do so -- and I didn't know if there were subconscious resentments in this hard-bodied young woman that could make a playful blow slip and do serious damage. This was just another equality that made her attractive to me: June could not be forced to do anything. Whatever she did, it was by choice. "But!" She laughed and dropped her hand. She knew my respect for her prowess -- and, more importantly, simply for her. "But!" I nodded ruefully. "I know."

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Alice wished fervently for a minute alone in the bathroom. She didn't dare ask. "Come here." Alice walked slowly to him. "Lay across my lap." Alice had assumed that he would want to fuck her. A spanking hadn't even entered her mind. She could barely remember her last spanking. She had been in grade school and her mother had pulled down her drawers and used a hair brush on her young ass after finding out about a fight in school. With some genuine fear, Alice lay across his lap. Mark didn't begin spanking her at once. First he spread her legs and felt the sticky dampness there. Alice blushed hotly at the shame of having mark examine the evidence of her infidelity.

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After a long conversation, he finally convinced me that I had never really experienced sex to the fullest and knew nothing of its pleasures. To make a long (and I'm sure, obvious) story short, within two weeks, Joe seduced me and we began having sex every day.

Soon after we started, Joe insisted on performing oral sex on me. I resisted at first, but finally gave in, and, within a few short minutes, I experienced the most wonderful orgasm of my life! From that second on, I couldn't get enough of his sucking and screwing me. He never failed to bring me to climax and I was so hooked on his wonderful body and tongue that I would have done almost anything to have him suck me.

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With her skirt bunched up around her hips he had forced her over the footstool on her stomach and had her from behind, something she had refused to allow Mark to do. Her inability to control Dave made her feel terribly wanton as she allowed him each liberty. She had come almost as soon as he had entered her, her skirt still on, on her face, from the rear.
Dave was taking her like a bitch, she thought. The word "bitch" seemed to excite her even more. She repeated it to herself as his hard member shoved home, again and again.
When Dave had come, she had expected to get dressed, but instead he had taken her to his bedroom, removed the rest of her clothes and made her assume positions on his bed.

Slut Hardcore Set

Okay, so I hate exercise-I admit it-I hate exercise. I'm getting better about it I met you. My body's not the best but you've gotten me to at least move and finally after watching your buns and those great legs of yours, I brought my bike out of mothballs. You're a jock-no doubt about it and I wish I had a body to match yours but for right now I'll settle for just being able to lose 2 lbs a week. I have found though that you've caused my rides to be a little more exciting lately than I remember them as a child. Last week as I was arguing with myself about the many reasons why I shouldn't go for a ride like I don't feel like it...it's too hot...I don't want to...I need to do some paperwork for work...when I heard a knock on the door. And there you were in your biking shorts holding your bike. I was totally shocked because usually you never come to visit and you've made so many remarks about the fact that I ride too slowly so I assumed you would never ask me to go for a ride. But there you are-God, how I lust after you when you're in those black shorts-they leave nothing to my overactive imagination. You've been out for a while because you're soaked with sweat making the curves of your muscles even more visible.

The look on your face is pure satisfaction-"So, want to go for a ride? I've done 40 miles so far and you can survive another 10, can't you?" Oh, shit-I think to myself-he's doing well-he'll beat me into the ground but I smile and sputter, "Sure, you know I'm slow though" I've got to change-oh, damn, now he's going see that I haven't got a tan or even a shade of a tan-at least my legs are shaved. I put on my sweat shorts and my jersey and wheel my bike out. I'm thinking-You're used to racing and you've got a bike set up for it-there's no way I can match you-I've got a mountain bike that weighs twice as much as yours-I outweigh you by a good amount. And you've been in training for months. Oh, well the pain'll be over soon. (more...)