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A large heavy pot used for slow cooking.
The dog's head was too large to fit in the sauce pan, but I had a Dutch oven stored at the back of the cupboard and it sufficied.
od uživatele chux 03. Srpen 2003
23 57
The act of trapping a person under bed covers after releasing vile ass fumes
Dave vomited on the sheets when his wife gave him a white castle dutch oven.
od uživatele Oooglie Booglie 18. Duben 2003
14841 4430
Blowing hard ass wind under the covers several times and building up stench while your old lady is brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed, then when she gets into bed, pull the covers over her head and yell "Dutch Oven" and let her enjoy the stench of your ass gas for at least 30 seconds.
Jonas nearly crapped his Underoos preparing a Dutch Oven for his special lady!
od uživatele Lution Stackridge Esquire 14. Srpen 2003
7868 3525
when you are laying in bed with a "significant other" and you fart then hold her head under the blanket
girl: what did you get me for valentines day
guy: hold on...wait a minute...i got something....DUTCH OVEN!!!!
od uživatele hooplah 19. Únor 2004
2896 2352
The act of throwing out a vicious, obnoxious fart in bed and then holding the head of a loved one underneath the sheets, either until they pass out or better still vomit.
I knew that I had left a skiddie in my pants as I curved out a stinkfart. I then asked my wife to check under the covers to see whether there was a spider. She was immediately overcome by the repugnant gas that was down there and try as she might, she couldn't fight as my hands held her head in place. When she came up eventually, she remarked that she felt nauseous and that I had indeed shit my pants in the process. Nice!
od uživatele Heinkel Winkle 30. Červenec 2004
1545 1215
to fart under covers and then pull the covers over your or someone elses head
chris fainted when i gave him a dutch oven
od uživatele Dude Dan 16. Leden 2003
1579 1280
1. Colloquially, a "game" in which one person traps another under a doona after a pungent rectal emission in order to "share" the odour.
2. An oven located in the Netherlands.
3. An oven made by a native of the Netherlands.
Whilst in bed...
Person 1 *farts* and pulls blanket over unsuspecting Person 2 and yells "Dutch oven!"
od uživatele Elaine 17. Říjen 2001
857 679
While in bed and under the covers with your significant other (or anyone else for that matter i guess...) let out a fart from deep within your colon. Next, rap the poor girl/guy up so they can't escape, forcing them to huff your ass gas. The more they struggle the better, as they will end up taking deeper breaths.
Techniques of the Dutch Oven may vary depending on the region your from.

The "Nightmare Surprise", indigiounous to the Helsinky tribesmen, is performed while their wives were sound asleep. This invokes the sublimal belief that they are being barraged with mustard gas in their dreams.

The "Bolivian Bat-Mitzmah" is one which you have your friend sneak into the room to fasten the covers, then you and countless numbers of your buddies bestow your "gifts" under the covers, officially marking her transition into grown womanhood...
od uživatele Yacht-Master 01. Listopad 2006
558 418
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The massage helps in directing energy through the body and eliminate any energy blockages, following a series of predefined movements. There are still no strict rules regarding a specific order. We present here one of erotic massage variants, namely the one you consider the most appropriate to bring harmony and energy awakening.

Steps for the erotic massage

The first stage is the preparation, relaxing the muscles and opening the energy channels. This stage indicates a superficial massage, a quick touch on the entire surface of the body. Stage two includes massaging the back and front face of the body, including the erotic massage of the sexual organs. At this stage the energy is driven, more dynamic and then guided to the higher centers of force. This is the maximum time the excitation energy and sex drive awakens very much, that often some are impatient to experience quickly the following steps.

Finally, the massage is focused on the face. This step is designed to induce general relaxation and harmonization of overall energy. After these steps, which can be considered as a prelude, the two lovers can continue through lovemaking that will certainly be much nicer and much higher due to special training favored by the erotic massage.

Massage can be a prelude welcomed anytime

Because women are generally harder to excite than men, a classic erotic massage is a practice whereby men can prepare before penetration. Flicking and kissing the erogenous zones of  woman, will convey the message through which they communicate that the desire is present, as it can relax, trusting that the man will do everything  he can to generate pleasure. In a couple relationship, the massage is much more than simple relaxation. Too few people indulged long enough to reach his partner throughout the body, thus knowing him better.

On the other hand, anyone wants confirmation that is loved beyond words that are often so unpredictable. One can say huge gentle caress. Moreover, the therapeutic benefits resulting by massaging the muscles are enormous, because are eliminating all tensions along the nerves that cross the entire body.

Erotic massage is the art of relaxation and the key of a safe sexuality

There is though this antechamber of lovemaking that is the prelude, something that is even more delightful than to have them do a massage. Mutual massage performed simultaneously is the key. Massage between two lovers can be considered a delicious and magical aspect of a safe sexuality. This usually lead to a harmonization to the relationship of the couple, to gain love and intimacy between the two and, why not, in a permanent state of happiness and fulfillment overflowing.

We can therefore deduce an absolute law in the art of consolation, namely that a genuine erotic massage is never starting with the genital area. The movements are still very delicate, more delicate than a regular massage because each area is specifically mentioned to be erotic stimulated, thereby generating a specific sensation on the entire body.


Veronica Avluv Mom

Gorgeous, buxom, and shapely brunette knockout Veronica Avluv was born on February sixteen, 1973 in Dallas, Texas. Veronica started her profession in the grownup business at age 18 working as a stripper at varied golf equipment within the Dallas, Texas space. After taking a temporary hiatus from stripping, Veronica ultimately moved to California and continued to work as a stripper in addition to worked as an expert hair and make-up artist. Avluv did her first lady/girl shoot at age 37 in February, 2010.

Actors: veronica avluv


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Blog Posts With a 'fitmodel' Tag

Nude casting with fitmodel Milana Monti
Milana Monti had always dreamed of becoming an erotic model. So when she heard about an amateur casting call for new projects, she jumped at the chance to show off her skills. She arrived at the studio feeling nervous but excited, wearing her favorite clothes and carrying a small bag with sexy lingerie. The photographer, a friendly man named Higinio Domingo, greeted her warmly and showed her around the studio. He explained that the first part of the shoot would take place on a couch and that he wanted to capture some natural, relaxed shots that showcased her physique and personality. Milana took a deep breath and settled onto the couch, trying to relax her body and look as natural as possible. Higinio snapped away, encouraging her to try different poses and angles. She felt herself loosening up as the shoot went on, and soon she was laughing and joking with Higinio like they were old friends. As they moved on to the next part of the shoot, which involved more intense erotic and nude, poses, and lighting setups, Milana Monti felt herself growing more confident and daring. She stretched her body into challenging positions, showing off her strength and flexibility. Higinio was impressed with her skill and dedication, and he knew that the photos would turn out amazing. By the end of the session, Milana was exhausted but exhilarated. She thanked Higinio for the opportunity and headed home, eager to see the results of the shoot. A few days later, she received an email from Higinio with a selection of the best shots. She was amazed by how beautiful and sexy she looked in the photos, and she knew that this was just the beginning of her modeling journey.

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BehindFriends - Pizza Party - Boris Lang, David Kadera & Dom Ully

Duration: 19:19 Views: 792 Submitted: 2 months ago Submitted by:
Description: What could be a better way to spend an afternoon weekend than having a pizza with your friends? Boris knows this, and orders pizza to share with his roommates David and Dom. The pizza has arrived, and Boris puts a hole in the middle of it to surprise his roommates. With his dick now inside the pizza box, he calls Dom and David to join him at the living room. Dom opens the box, and to his and David's surprise, Boris' dick is sandwiched in the middle of the pizza. David starts sucking Boris' pizza as he gazes at Dom, then Dom takes his turn at sucking. The extra sausage, once lying on the pizza, is now up and ready for more sucking. Dom heightens David's sex drive by jerking off his equally giant sausage. The jerking off quickly escalated to sucking. It's now David's turn to have his sausage sucked, and Boris and Dom hapiily obliges. Dom takes care of the cock, now rock hard, and Boris takes care of his balls. They take turns to suck David's dick until it's properly stood and up. The roommates take turn sucking and facefucking each other, and proceeds to another type of eating. Forming a sex train with Dom at the head, Boris rims his hole and jerks him, while David does the same for Boris. Making pun of their funny sexual conquest, Dom makes the sound of a chugging train. Towards the end, Dom gets the full attention of his roommates, and his dick gets to pound David's and Boris' mouth. He cums first, saucing up Boris' tongue to the latter's pleasure. With proteinous cum in his mouth, Boris passes for the pizza and offers it to his hungry roommates.
Models: Dom Ully


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 Fortaleza Nights (part 2)

Free Course: Eliminate Your Inner “Nice Guy” and Pass Girl’s Secret Tests

Fortaleza Nights (part 2)

(continued from Part 1)

The night bellman at your hotel is talking loudly at you in a language you don’t understand. You get the gist of it though. Apparently strolling in at 4am with a couple of barely legal Brasiladas is frowned upon at this establishment. No one sent you the memo. You rode in like a rock star, a girl dangling from each arm, kicking over a flower pot, ordering the cleaning lady to bring a bottle of Scotch up to your room… Pronto!

These sort of things aren’t acceptable in Hotel Luzieros, Fortaleza’s most well known and luxurious hotel, he is telling you. He points at the door. You want to knock that smug look off his Porutguese face.

The whole matter could have easily been resolved with a small bribe. But you blew any chance of that happening with your your “American sense of entitlement” and incoherent attack on his character. You slovenly escort the two girls outside.

One voice in your head says “Cut you losses- there is always tomorrow.” A louder voice hails down a cab and says “To the cheapest motel. Rapido! Por Favor”

You would be damned to let the night go up in flames at this point. Just a few hours ago you were in the mist of the single biggest girl heist of your life. Back at the club you had come out of the bathroom to spot your girls sandwhiched in the middle of a group of Norwegians. You felt a little intimidated. Has your Super Americano Power waned? Have your girls been swept away with tales of a booming European ecomony…

You decide to flex your muscles. You signal over a coctail waitress. You order 8 shots of the Brazilain equievelent of Yagermeiser. You have the waitress deliver the shots to your girls and their new Norwegian friends. The group is confused. They reluctanly do the shots… looking around to see who the mysterious stranger is that sent them. You make your Great Gatsby entrance.

The girls could not be happier to see you. You get two kisses on the lips. You’re drunk and go for tongue but both girls resist. Nights early, you think. You take the blonde by the hand and immediately remove her from the group. You look back and feel bad leaving the brunette to the pack of Norwegian wolves. You signal for her to come over.

The girls drag you on the dance floor. Your “gringo sense of rythem” is usually a game killer but tonight you’re Michael fucking Jackson. You take turns grinding with each girl… you look on in disbelief as the girls grind sexually with eachother. They get closer closer closer…They Kiss. Jackpot!

You remember a wedding you went to where your date started making out with her friend. Later at the hotel the friend started rubbing your chest under your shirt and hinted threesome,,, In an effort not to seem overly eager you laughed it off. You only slept with one girl that night.

After an hour or two of dry humping the two Brasiladas and taking turns kissing them you suggest the bounce. Their eyes light up. You flashback to an incident in Brazil two years prior involving a spotlight, a couple machine guns, and a girl who turned out to be sixteen. You casually ask the girls to see their documents. Raquel, the blonde is twenty. Emelia, the brunett is eighteen. The coast is clear for takeoff.

…Toward dawn you are sitting in the front seat of a cab next to Manny the driver. In the back seat Racquel is disapearing inside Emelia’s dress. You trust that Manny is actually taking you to a motel and not to a guerrila hide out where you will be kidnapped and tortured. But you aren’t certain.

Manny’s hand is on your knee and he is talking loudly and passionately in Portuguese. He is asking you questions. You smile and nod. Smile and nod. You think Manny likes you, but can never be sure of these things. He could just as easliy be saying “You parents will pay the ransom. And if they don’t we chop you up and feed you to pigs” The girls are too busy to notice.

The long winding road that is Avenida Beira Mar travels the course of the night- from the opulent to the destitute. Outside the street is still tinkered with people. Down the road, a lone hooker trots on heels, one hand holding her skirt from riding too far up her ass. As your cab gets closer you see that she is topless. Manny doesn’t blink an eye as you pass her. Manny could probably tell you stories that would break your heart. Make you run back to the States.

But you don’t want to think about these things right now. Brazil is a strange place for sure. You’ll have some contemplating to do when you get home. Maybe even some life decisions to make. Rearrange some priorities. Pick up some pieces… From the back seat Emelia lets out a squeak. You reach your hand in the back and one of the girls begins sucking your fingers. Yea… once upon a time, you were one of the good guys. Maybe you can be again… Just not tonight.

When Manny pulls away, leaving you and the girls in front of the motel, you experiece a moment of doubt. Growing up you always thought the other guys knew some fundamental secret about girls that you didn’t. These guys seemed to know what they were doing. It wasn’t until college, with the help of alchohol, that you began to feel comfortable around them. Even as you began a long string of conquests you always had the feeling you were just learning what came naturally to others. And even as it finally began to come naturally to you, you still had that underlying fear that you’ll be discovered as a fraud. Looking at the girls, that is just about how you feel right now.

All your doubts are alleviated when Raquell and Emelia fall onto the bed. Their bodies are twisting and turning into one another. They are giggling in a way that reminds you that this is exactly where they want to be. And when they quickly undress, you are reminded that this is exactly where you want to be. Raquell is the first to signal you onto the bed. You slide into them. They both are both kissing your neck. You run your hands along the crest of their abdomens. Emelia gently slides your pants down to your ankles.

Sandwhiched in between the two warm bodies, you can only wonder what you did in a previous life to reap these fruits in this onBobby Rio I'm Bobby Rio, one of the founders of TSB. I tend to write about what is on my mind so you'll find a mix of self development, social dynamics and dating articles/experiences.  For a collection of some of my favorite articles check them out


tagRomanceNot My Lover Ch. 10

Not My Lover Ch. 10

"Hell, no! I'd be goddamned if I shave it off!"

It was like trying to talk a grizzly bear into behaving without tranquilizers. They had gotten word that Tyler was back in town and they wanted to survey the perimeters of his property before they meet him, which was in three days.

Theo had already told them that his job was to remain inside the unmarked van they had borrowed from the Houston FBI. He was only doing intelligence and electronic work. Nothing in his contract said anything about going undercover and that's where he drew the line.

Summer was drawing her own line. If caught, she would be very easy to distinguish through a disguise, which only left one person in their group. Gage was a handsome man who, with a few makeup additions and the right kind of color to a feminine wardrobe, would look stunning, even in drag. Summer supposed with just the right touch, he would be unrecognizable, which was what they were shooting for.

It took all day to convince him to agree to it, but in his inflexible mind, he knew that there was really no one else to do the job but himself, and he was better at snooping than anyone at the FBI.

It was an hour past sunset and already, Gage's slightly long hair had been washed, curled, and set into a womanly style that draped a part of the ebony mass over one eye. Now, it was the painful part of the beautification process: Gage just had to shave.

This was where he had been the most obstinate, since Gage wasn't exactly clean-shaven when it came to body hair, and he was particularly aggravated that he had to shave off the scrubby stubble that shadowed his chiseled features. This specific attribute of his made him as tempting as a pirate on a humid summer's night. Just so hot.

"But I don't have a dress that'll reach all the way down to your ankles, Gage," Summer enlightened him. "The longest one I have only reaches slightly past your knees, as you can see, so you'll have to shave that hair off. They'll think evolution took a wrong turn with you if you don't."

Gage was throwing a fit like a child in her black cotton dress that she had often worn to the coast when visiting other family along the beach. He stubbornly crossed his arms and his bottom lip pushed out into a pout that was so cute that Summer had to resist taking that lip into her mouth and sucking on it until his immature mood was replaced by the hot-blooded male he could be.

"I ain't gonna," he sulked even more with the stomp of his foot.

"I can shave up to almost your knees, how about that?"

"Hell, no," he breathed with a pacified voice. "Send Theo out to Wal-Mart or somethin' to get some tights to go beneath this bedamned dress. You already got me in this getup. I'd be damned if you take more of my manhood, woman. And I'll have you know you owe me like hell for this."

A delicately arched ebony brow cocked with surprise. "I don't owe you anything, Gage. This is part of the job."

"Like hell it is," he contemptuously scoffed. "And you better not have any pictures taken of me, or I swear to God, I'll make you pay for each shot."

Summer swallowed hard, not for the threat, but more because he found her out without him seeing the disposable camera in her purse. She sighed despairingly and Gage's features relaxed, knowing that he had that round won.

Summer quickly excused herself from the room and phoned Theo about the news on Gage. Theo laughed, for he found it hilarious that the manly Gage Ryan was reduced to make-up and dresses. "So, the big guy wouldn't go for it."

"Go for it? He flat out refuses to cooperate. I know there's a K-Mart or something down the street. Buy a pair of black tights or something that'll stretch, okay?"

"No problem," he chirped and hung up. Summer blew some air past her lips and stared resignedly at the bathroom door. Trying to get him ready was harder than she imagined, but this was something she wasn't going to put up with for the rest of the night.

With determination marked in her face, she strutted back into the bathroom to confront Gage once again. She searched his shaving kit and reached for the razor before turning back to him. "All right, you win," she yielded. "You have your way about the legs, but you have to shave off your five o'clock shadow."

Gage jumped back, holding onto his jaw as if she had slapped him. "No way in hell."

"Gage, you can't have your way in everything. It's just hair. It'll grow back."

"It took me a while to have my stubble to grow the way I wanted it to, so if you want it off, you do it. It'll be better to blame you for my bad mood."

She lifted her shoulders in a carefree shrug. "Why am I not surprised?" she remarked as she pointed to the toilet. "Sit."

Summer knew he was distrustful of the way she held the shaver, which was true to a barber's and would cut anything with lethal accuracy, even fatal if not careful. His emerald eyes fastened onto the blade, the shiny, silver instrument reflecting in his eyes as they widened with trepidation.

"On second thought, I think I'll shave it off myself," he said quickly.

Summer's smile was slow, calculated, and sensual. "Too late to change your mind, Gage, now stop dragging your feet."

Drawing on the strength that was slumping down inside him, Gage did as he was told. He watched as she approached him and slung a towel that was folded long ways across one of his broad shoulders. She snatched a can of shaving cream and sprayed some into her hand. She stood in front of him, nudging his knees with hers. "Open your legs like a good boy."

Grudgingly, Gage parted his legs to allow her to step between them. Carefully, she settled both hands on his cheeks, with the razor still in one, and gently lathered his face, chin, and neck.

The bright lights above the mirror caught the side of the blade and it gleamed proudly in its shiniest, unblemished best. Gage was having doubts while Summer smirked wickedly as she lowered the razor blade closer to his aorta. She was looking so damned happy doing this and it scared to witness that evil sparkle in her moonless dark eyes.

Inches from his skin, Gage caught her wrist to stop her in a grip that made the terrifying grin vanish. Summer's head tilted in question, but Gage was willing to let her know something here and now. "If you cut me, woman, and God help you if you do," he seethed in warning, clutching her wrist tighter with the enunciation of each syllable, "I swear you'll regret ever layin' eyes on me."

Summer paused curtly as she drowned in the depths of his eyes. She didn't have to call his bluff on something Gage was more than motivated to do. She would have to keep her hand steady in case an accidental cut would be her last mistake.

She jerked her hand away and cleaned her hands off with the towel, refusing to bring her eyes level with his. "Sometimes, you make me regret that a lot," she grumbled as she neared his face again. Gage, on instinct, tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as she hovered over him, yet she hesitated.

Gage slit an eye open before his full jade eyes were narrowed on her. "What?"

"I..." she stumbled. "What's the price if I accidentally cut you?"

His eyes were meditative as they observed her countenance quietly. "The price ain't steep, darlin', and I wouldn't be askin' for an arm or a leg, but your body."

Summer stood back a breadth of a space, disturbed by his closeness and his words that heated her to her core. Should she be comforted knowing that the penalty wouldn't be violence but the complete possession of her entire being? Gage informed her exactly in what way her body would become his.

"Your punishment would be me takin' you to the middle of nowhere and tyin' you to my bed where I intend to have you for days. And each time you'd come for me, and you'd come hard, you'd hate me for it. But I vow to you, hellfire, you'd love the sensation I'd give you and you'd be screamin' to stay beneath me."

She stared dumbfounded. Each time he described his intentions with her, it got more intimate, his husky southern accent whirling her senses like a spinning top. Moreover, in his eyes, she witnessed a hidden truth through his opulent expressions of assertion.

"You're planning to do that anyway, aren't you?" she discerned with a soft voice.

He did an unconcerned lift of a strong shoulder, his eyes reflecting a touch of disinterest. "Perhaps I am and perhaps I'm willin' to wait until we bag Tyler, but I ain't gonna wait long afterward."

His eyes morphed into that lush olive green. "I'm gonna request some time off. As will you. There ain't gonna be no cell phones, no people, and no bosses. Just you and me, nakedly entwined together with the sheets as our only separation..." An easy smile creased his mouth here. "...at times. I want uninterrupted time making love to you and knowin' how it feels to be inside you."

Summer released a harsh stream of air; her chest heaving with the anticipation of having her body aligned with his, him being the only taste in her mouth, sweet and decadent, almost like cheating on a diet. He was bad for her health, but Summer wanted the same thing he did. She wanted to feel his warm, masculine skin against hers, his hands mapping her body, shaping and taking to his delight.

She shook visibly at the thoughts of her in bed with a very naked and a very gorgeous Gage made the words she tried to say incoherent. "I...I..."

That was all she could manage to fall out of her mouth. The man, sitting on a toilet seat in her favorite dress with his hair done up like a woman, was seriously turning her mind and body to mush.

Another wolfish smile appeared on those lips she craved to feel against hers. "Know you want it too, but don't worry, baby. You won't have long to wait."

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes again, signaling to her that he was ready for his shave. Sighing to get her jittery nerves under control, she carefully approached him. One hand pressed gently on his forehead, the other bringing the sharp razor toward Gage's cheek. She hesitated slightly again and he knew.

"What the hell you waitin' on? Just shave."

And she did, taking the first swipe of shaving cream and hair off. It was so close that Summer was afraid she had cut him, but he didn't complain of pain, so she continued. She shaved his jaws, cautiously shaving beneath his nose and the mannish contours of his firm, proud chin. Now all that remained was the strong structure of his corded neck.

She went slowly in getting off all the shaving cream, her free hand lingering as her fingers flew constantly over his pulse, which was beating with erratic rhythm in his throat. She negotiated the blade gently over his Adam's apple, which didn't move until she had moved away from it.

His skin was so soft now, so warm beneath her wandering fingertips. She loved the way his scent exuded from his skin and wrapping around her like a comfort blanket.

Scraping off the last of the shaving cream, Summer reached over and dumped it into the sink. She took the towel draped over Gage's shoulder and wiped the excess cream from his face and neck. All the while, those haunting green eyes watched her diligently, and she believed that within the dreamy depths was the desire to do something wickedly sensual with her.

She shelved the thought and reached to place the towel on the back of the toilet. That was a major error on her part. It didn't dawn on her until she had already done it that her body was now pressed against his. He caught her around the waist, hauling her against him. She saw that harsh gleam of yearning in his eyes before his mouth began to kiss her breasts tenderly through her white dress shirt.

Summer was mesmerized watching these shapely lips moving against her chest with measured pecks. Gage clutched a handful of her abundant bottom and began kneading it through her jeans. She could feel the bountiful size of him growing against her thighs, since he had the dress hitched way up to admit her between his legs.

His hands guided her away from him, only to close his legs and sit her astride him. He slowly reached up and cupped her face before gingerly attacking her neck with playful, bite-sized kisses. Those wonderful hands of his traveled beneath her shirt, massaging her chocolate breasts through the white, lacy bra.

Gage caused sweet friction through the delicate material, rolling her hardening nipples beneath his rough palms, grinning impishly as he felt them push proudly against his hands. Letting him know that she struck with the same heat that resided in his body.

Patiently, he unbuttoned her shirt and parted it. He inhaled a quick draw of air as he lifted her bra and revealed her bare breasts. It was the same expression as before, yet his mouth had fallen open as if it was the first time he had ever seen them before.

"Christ!" he cried as he dove face first into the succulent mounds of smooth mahogany. He kissed the valley in between reverently and the soft curve of her breasts as his hands dipped down in her pants and caressed her bottom. Her own hands held on to the back of his head, thrusting through the hair that she had already styled, yet wanted it back to its semi-tidy fashion Gage usually wore it in.

"I've been dreamin' about these babies ever since that night..." His eyes lifted to hers. "Luscious, beautiful breasts of deep milk chocolate. You've had me cravin' for them like hell, darlin', and I honestly believe I'll shoot myself dead due to insanity if I don't savor that sweet taste of you."

His dark head descended to her left breast while one of his hands was cradling the other. The coarseness of his tongue grazed across her nipple before inhaling the bud past lips and sucking on it fervently.

Summer jerked, loving the way his hot mouth latched hungrily onto her. She arched her back to offer her breasts to him. Gage took the offering, alternating back and forth to worship both evenly. They throbbed with intensity as his mouth and tongue made them burn with the desire that was overtaking her. Even though their timing wasn't worth much, she knew it was time. She wanted Gage to take her now.

Her cheek rested on the crown of his head, her body shifting in his lap as she grinded the apex of her thighs against his. "Gage," she whimpered.

"Yeah, baby?" he gasped in between kisses.

"Gage, I..."

The bathroom door quickly swung open and there stood a petrified Theo, a K-Mart bag in hand and his chin on the floor. His dark brown eyes darted from Summer to Gage, and then back again. Luckily, Summer's back was facing him, but she was sure that he could clearly see them through the reflections of the numerous mirrors.

He threw the bag down inside the bathroom, his hands going up quickly in surrender. "My bad," he replied before he slammed the door.

Gage and Summer could do nothing but stare at each other before Gage lowered her bra back over her breasts to shield his weakness from his sight. She could tell he was infuriated for being interrupted, and this time, it wasn't on his own will. He angrily fastened her buttons, then resting his hands on her thighs.

"You better finish this up so we can get goin'," he commented darkly, avoiding looking at Summer.

"Yeah, I think we should," she replied as she stood from Gage's lap and strode over to retrieve the K-Mart bag to finish dressing Gage. Summer was disappointed the moment was gone. Nevertheless, she realized that it wouldn't be long until the fever would inflame her body once more in a consuming inferno that would irrevocably permit Gage to take her in ways they both knew he was capable of.

Summer felt restrained being inside the unmarked van parked inconspicuously down the street from the huge mansion that was the home of the sole heir of Harrison Oil, and since he was the beneficiary of millions in black gold, he had the resources and money to place his home wherever he wanted. Each generation of Tylers built their own homestead in a different location. Harrison J. Tyler chose to live out in the country, a nearly deserted setting about forty-five minutes west of Houston.

The sheer beauty of the place impressed Summer, but she was briefly passing by it in the dark. She only got a glance of the vast, lush yard that was beautifully landscaped. The house was three stories tall and definitely spacious, expanding in every direction possible. It was the type of house that you couldn't take in all at once, but in sections.

Tyler's home, which was aptly named Casa de la Tierra Grande or "House of the Big Land", had Spanish influence for decoration with terracotta walls and earth-toned tiles that laid the path for the expansive courtyard out front. It sat majestically in the safe protection of the escalating, thick, earthen walls that separated the house and the outside world and guarded the home like a fortress. A person of his influence needed it from the media and people like them.

And to think at this very moment, Gage was sneaking about the perimeters with a dress on and a purse slung on his shoulder. She had managed to get some heavy make-up upon him, Gage sitting with a pout the entire time she applied it.

As Gage surveyed the borders, Theo and she waited patiently for feedback. He had been gone only for a couple of minutes for the walk back up the street toward the house, and Summer was already worried. Gage out walking at this particular time of night and alone was a far-fetched possibility, but there were houses down the street, just beyond the borderline of Harrison J. Tyler's property.

Summer found herself on edge at every sound he made and she was still afraid for his safety. She pressed the earpiece closer to her ear canal as if she needed to hear the sound of his breathing and the click of his shoes steadily hitting the pavement to let her know he was all right. Still, her body refused to slacken as it remained rigidly upright on the edge of her chair.

"He'll be all right."

Summer turned to Theo, who was watching her while working on a broken earpiece he had tried to use earlier for Gage. She saw the look in his dark brown eyes, comfort integrated with pity. Summer scoffed inwardly. He had no reason to pity her. Gage wasn't her man, even though their bodies were craving for each other, she had no rights over him.

She attempted to relieve the stiffness in her body. "I wasn't worried."

Theo's derisive scoff told of instant disbelief. "Look, baby, you don't have to be brave with me. It's obvious like hell you care for him, even if you're not willing to admit that aloud. I have a feeling you've admitted that to yourself, which is all that matters."

Summer threw her shoulders back. "I don't care for him," she tried to deny, failing miserably. "I...I..." She glanced to Theo, who was still not wavering. "All right, I do care for the stubborn jackass, but you can't tell him."

An enigmatic, impish smile formed on Theo's lips. "Scout's honor."

"And I swear, if you let him know, I'll..."

She didn't get a chance to complete the threat. A sudden shuffle of feet and harsh breathing come from the other side of the earpiece. Summer instantly sat up to attention, her heart leaping into her throat. She grasped her mouthpiece closer to her mouth. "Gage?"

"Shh!" was the curt retort she received and she became silent, though it drove her insane to know what was going on. A humming noise sounded from the earpiece, along with the sound of a car driving away and a second humming noise with a loud clank following it. The quiet from the other end was too dreadful for Summer to bear and she was frightened that Gage had been caught and his communication piece had been taken.

"Gage!" she cried out. "Talk to me!"

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 Throttled(Men of Inked #3)(32) read online free by Chelle Bliss
  • Home > Chelle Bliss > Men of Inked > Throttled (Page 32)
  • Throttled(Men of Inked #3)(32) by Chelle Bliss
  • Pop reached in the box, pulling out the ultrasound photo and bringing it close to his eyes.

    “What the hell is it?” Michael asked.

    Ma turned the shirt around, a giant smile on her face. “Promise me you two aren’t joking?” she asked, holding the shirt in the air.

    “We would never joke about that, Ma,” Suzy said, squeezing my hand and leaning into my side.

    The shrill scream from my ma had me covering my ears. She hopped from her seat, coming at us quickly.

    “Fuck,” Anthony said, clearly understanding the error of his previous statement.

    My ma was so lost in her baby haze that she didn’t even flinch at his statement. She stopped in front of us, tears just starting to stream down her cheeks. “When?” she asked, clutching the shirt in her hand.

    Suzy laughed, hopping to her feet. “August,” she said, wrapping her arms around my ma.

    “Oh my God, August is so far away, but there’s so much to do,” Ma said, grabbing Suzy and squeezing her tightly.

    I stood, walking toward my pop, holding out my hand. “Congrats, Grandpa,” I said, waiting for his response.

    He placed his hand in mine, pulling me toward him, embracing me. “I’m proud of you, son. Damn proud. There will finally be someone to carry on the family name... about damn time.” He laughed, patting me on the back.

    “Only if it’s a boy, Pop,” I said, sighing and feeling completely content.

    “Look around, boys are genetic. Girls are an anomaly in this family.”

    Ma grabbed me, pulling me from his arms. “And you, how could you keep this from me?”

    “We wanted to be sure, Ma. Don’t be mad,” I said, kissing her cheek.

    “I’m not mad. I don’t know if I’ve ever been as happy as I am right now,” she said, resting her head on my chest. “A baby, finally a baby,” she whispered, her tears soaking through my shirt.

    Over my shoulder, I could see everyone surrounding Suzy. She beamed, a giant smile on her face and her cheeks slightly pink. She didn’t like attention, but she better get used to it. She’d be the center of attention until the baby arrived.

    Anthony touched her stomach. “Wow, it’s going to be like the movie Alien. That’s some scary shit, Suzy.” He smiled, patting it before flailing his arms like the creature that busted out of Sigourney Weaver.

    Mike batted his hands away from Suzy, “Stop it, you dumbass. You’re scaring her. Congrats, doll. I’m so excited to finally be an uncle.” He smiled at her, wrapping her into his arms, but holding her like she was breakable.

    “Maybe someday Mia can be an aunt?” she asked as she pulled away to see his face.

    Mike laughed, nervously looking at Mia. “We’ll see. I’m still trying to figure out if she’s ‘the one’.” He said and laughed.

    Mia smacked his ass, causing a loud crack to fill the air. “You could only be so lucky,” Mia said. “Come here, Suzy, give me a hug, Mama. Are you ready for this?”

    I watched my family as they showered her with love. We weren’t the main attraction anymore; the world would now revolve around the baby.

    Suzy huffed out a breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She shrugged before hugging Mia.

    “Congrats, Suzy,” Izzy said, pulling Mia off Suzy. “Remember, that baby better have a vagina.” Izzy poked her in the stomach and bent down next to her belly. “Hey little girl, Auntie Izzy will teach you everything you need to know about life,” Izzy said, rubbing her hand over Suzy’s stomach.

    The color drained from Suzy’s face, as her eyes grew wide. “Izzy, we don’t know the sex yet, but boy or girl, they’ll be lucky to have you as an aunt.” Suzy looked at me with her eyes bulging like she was scared to death of Izzy getting her hands on our baby. There were worse things than having Izzy teaching a girl how to be strong. Izzy could be a pain in the ass, but she was a tough cookie. The man that could tame her would have to be a beast, if it was possible at all.

    The End ~ For Now.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire


Feral Sins(3)

By: Suzanne Wright

Okay, Taryn could concede that the homicidal nutcase was seriously hot. His harsh scowl and the sharpness in his artic blue eyes seemed to only add to it. His t-shirt didn’t hide his broad shoulders, defined upper body or washboard abs. Ripped, that was what he was. Ordinarily, Taryn didn’t much like the highlander look, but she found that she couldn’t help admire that physique. In addition, both her body and her wolf helplessly reacted to the power that was practically buzzing around him; he wore authority like a second skin. Perversely, his hard penetrating stare was heating her blood rather than affronting her. His eyes had taken on a glazed, hungry look that both thrilled and startled her. It made her wolf growl in excitement. The primal lust that gripped her was so intense it almost hurt.

Well that was just great. Maybe she was developing Stockholm Syndrome or something.

In any case, no way would her inconvenient attraction to him inspire her to react to him as her body and her wolf wanted – and as many other females often did, if his reputation as a rake had any substance. Her father was also the dark, rugged, brooding, dangerous type and he was a pain in the padded ass. Betraying nothing about her appreciation of him as a male specimen, Taryn simply returned his full-on alpha stare with one of her own. Oh her wolf may be latent, but she was still an alpha wolf.

Trey regarded the female before him curiously. He had been told that she was latent. Add in that she was a tiny little thing, away from her pack and in his company, and surely you would have yourself a flighty deer. But there was no fear in her expression, nor was it wafting from her like fumes as he would have expected. Instead, she was royally pissed. Apparently he had become so used to the scent of fear that he now found himself a little thrown.

He also found that he was becoming painfully hard as a raw basic hunger surged through him, beating at his self-control. She wasn’t beautiful in that oh so obvious in-your-face way, but in a natural, understated way. Although she was slender she had mouth-watering curves that had all sorts of fantasies playing around in his head. It was her mouth that had most of his attention though; it was plush, carnal and made a guy think impure thoughts. A mouth that was currently set into a hard line, communicating how livid she was. Still the stench of fear hadn’t permeated the air. Maybe she just didn’t recognise him. “Do you know who I am?”

Taryn rolled her eyes. “Why don’t we just skip to the part where you tell me how the hell I got here and why exactly I’m here at all, Coleman?”

Everyone around her stiffened and an uncomfortable hush fell upon the room. Obviously they were all waiting for the guy to explode. Yeah? Well she had had enough of intimidating, dominating males. Had had enough of boyfriends who seemed to think that her being latent meant she had to be submissive and meek. Had had enough of her father trying to force her to mate with a sleazy alpha for his own sly reasons. Had had enough of said sleazy alpha who was so determined to mate with her that he had cornered and bitten her without her permission, believing he had marked her as his. And now psycho boy here had obviously kidnapped her. Forgive her if she had reached her limit!

Trey smiled inwardly at her feistiness. He had been told enough times that he had an intimidating presence. All his life, even before earning his reputation, people had been weary of him and it had kind of irritated him. His grandmother blamed his seemingly permanent scowl as well as the dominant vibes that surrounded him.

This female, however, wasn’t shrinking away from him or the intensity of his gaze. And he knew it was intense. He knew that his eyes were so completely focused on her and every single line and curve of her hot little body that it should have been enough to make her look away, squirm or scowl. She didn’t even flinch under his scrutiny. Instead she met his hard stare boldly, and it occurred to him that it was very possible that he had found someone who could outstare him. This was obviously a female who was used to taking shit from people – probably as a result of being latent. Her fiery nature pleased his wolf who didn’t respect tremblers. He would bet she had a wicked temper.

Instinctively, Trey inhaled deeply to investigate the scent of the female just as he did with anyone he met for the first time. Fuck. The exotic fusion of coconut, lime and pineapple seemed to slam into his system and shoot straight to his hard cock, making it jerk. His wolf growled his arousal, wanting to further investigate this female with the mouth-watering scent. “Why don’t you sit,” he invited, gesturing to the seat opposite him. His strong attraction to her would be a good thing if she agreed to his deal.

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Why Does Cougars Have a Strong Sexual Desire?

If you have a relationship with a 20-year-old girl, you will definitely know the answer. Young women around the age of 20 are in the early stages of sex, and their understanding of sex is not deep enough. And they don't know their bodies. Most of the women at this stage are in the trial period and the exploration period.

The sexual stage of human beings is divided into three types, the initial stage, the middle stage of sexuality and the late stage of sexuality. The early sex is about 20 years old. The mid-sex is about 30-50 years old. Late sexuality is about 50 years old. In the early stages of sex, people still don't understand their bodies, and they don't know enough about sex. They are at a tentative stage. In the middle of sex, it is the peak period of sexual desire. At the stage, people have a clear understanding of their bodies. They are more open to sex and have a good sexual attitude. Because of the excessive secretion of hormones, people at this stage have a strong sexual desire. Late sexuality is the final stage of sexual life. At this stage, due to people's physical reasons, some stimulating activities can't keep up, and there will be situations where the heart is not enough. And the hormones in this section are also showing a downward trend.

Cougars have strong sexual desires in addition to body hormones, and on the other hand, psychological reasons. Very simple, if someone tells you that you can't make love tomorrow, what do you feel? Cougars are in the midst of a transition to late sexual transition. They are worried that they will not be able to enjoy cougar hook up dating very well at the last stage. Therefore, they will try their best to experience a good cougar hook up dating life during the mid-sex time.

On the other hand, when the age of cougars is over 50, even if they want to have cougar hook up dating, it is difficult to find a young man who likes them on the older women dating  website. Even if a woman who is 50 years old looks good again, her attraction will be worse than before. No decent young man is willing to cougar hook up dating with a coveted sugar momma.

For the above reasons, cougars will enjoy the joy of sex at their peak. Once this period has passed, they know that they are not as attractive as men. They don't want to regret themselves in the future, so they try to enjoy older women dating as much as possible with young men. At this stage only young men can satisfy their strong desires.

These reasons fully explain why cougars have a strong sexual desire in the middle of sex and why they need more young men to satisfy them.

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Idioms: blow you away -- blue in the face

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blow your stones [B] ejaculate, come There's more to it than blowing your stones. Sex is an art form.
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blowout (See a blowout)
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Caută orice cuvânt, cum ar fi blumpkin:
1.) What you do when your girlfriend is not at home.

2.) The reason why people buy playboys.

3.) The reason why old people are having more heart attacks.

4.) The reason why birth-rate decreased by 60% in the last 20 years.

5.) What 30% of the world population is doing now.
The old man had several heart attacks due to his recent masturbations. He had too much excitement
de Jake 22 Aprilie 2005de The clit commander 10 Aprilie 2003
What you do when there is nothing to do.
When I woke up in the middle of the night, I took off my clothes and started to masturbate.
de KawaiiAnime 02 Noiembrie 2003
To sexually exite yourself until you reach a climax. With males it involves using their hand to 'jack off', that is holding their dicks and moving their hand back and forth. Females usually use their fingers to rub around and enter the vaginal area.
"His girlfriend was miles away and he was very loyal so whenever he got horny he masturbated to satiate his thirst for sexual activity"
de Little Blue Patakha 15 Ianuarie 2003
To sexually pleasure oneself to orgasm. Usually better than sex, because, not only do you know what you want better than a partner, there's no risk of STD or pregnancy! Everyone does it, though most people don't like to admit to it.
Betty: I masturbate, what's wrong with it?

Jane: Ew! You mean you touch yourself?

Betty: Yes...

Jane:...is it good?
de LuffySP 28 Iunie 2005
the process of pleasing yourself sexually.
the old man masturbated until he died.
de the meat man 01 Noiembrie 2002
to increase the surface temperature of your ship's main cannon with rapid linear motion
I masturbated and sunk your battleship
de tae 26 Aprilie 2003


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"Serve Me You Stupid Fuck Tard"

That's about the dorkiest thing I have ever heard someone say. You want cheese like that, then you can go somewhere else to find it.

I like to play with men. I have several real life men who spoil me. Some of them get to fuck me, some just get to spend their money on me. Some men just have that "use me" tone in their voice, it's almost like they were meant to be mine to do with what I want.

I will fuck with your head... hee hee... both of them, isn't that what it's there for? I love the mind screw part of financial domination. I may sound like a sweet co-ed, but your checking balance will certainly tell you other wise. I will pout, tease, torment, love, giggle and sweet talk the money right out of your wallet.

I want you to love me, I want you to please me, and pretty much... I know it sound cliche... but I get what I want. I am not going to force domme you into anything... I will mind fuck you out of anything I want... you won't even know it's happening most the time.

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tagGroup SexThe Club Ch. 03

The Club Ch. 03

The Club (Part 3) David

“You know, I’ve always liked that Stevie Nicks song,” Annie said, trying to convince me to join her in sponsoring David at the club.

“What song?”

“Edge of Seventeen, you know, “Just like a white winged dove,” she replied.

“Oh yeah, on “Bella Donna” right?”

“And a few others.”

“David’s only seventeen?” I asked, “I thought the club…”

“Calm down, he just turned nineteen, but it’s close enough.”

“That’s two years.”

“I know, but can’t you just let me play with the fantasy a bit. He was seventeen when he started giving tennis lessons,” she said, with a bit of attitude.

“And how did you get set up with him?”

“Charlotte told me about him, but only after hogging him for a year and a half.”

“So he was almost nineteen when you met him.”

“Yes, well beyond jailbait by then. But of course, he was only a bit of a plaything, I had my eyes on you,” she said with a sly smile.

“You had your eyes on me, even back then?”

“Oh yes, I knew he could teach me a backhand, but you were my game, set and match.”

“So you’ve never done anything with him?”

Annie shook her head, “No.”

“What makes you think he would like to join the club?”

“Well, none of the ladies have done anything with him, not officially anyway.”

“Not officially?”

“Look, he shows me a forehand; standing behind me he guides my arm. I simply lean back a bit, wiggle my ass and in no time I can feel him hard. I just wiggle my ass some more.”

“Oh yes, delightfully so.”

“So we’re taking him to the club tonight?”

“He’s meeting us there, kind of a special thing, a celebration of my thirtieth lesson.”

“Does he have any idea?”

“I told him about the club.”

“You had told me about it, but I had no idea, not until...”

“Oh Dan, but you loved it.”

“I loved you.”

“You telling me you didn’t love the club?” she said.

“”Well... Okay, the club was nice too, but only because you were there in all that action.”

She smiled and leaned over, kissing me on the cheek, “That’s sweet.”

“It’s true,” I replied, pulling the car into the parking lot. “Where will David meet us?”

She smiled, “I told him about an initiation and gave him some specific instructions. I had the club save a room for us, he should be there now.”

“They let him in?”

“The paperwork was already complete, and if he followed instructions he should be in the room, naked, waiting for the initiation.”

“And what is this initiation?”

“Just you and me baby, a little three way.”

“Has he ever...”

“Well, if they are telling the truth, none of my friends have touched him... well, nothing more than what I did. Who knows what he has done with any girlfriends?”

“So what do we do?”

“Just get undressed and follow my lead.”

I had followed her lead so far, so I removed my clothes and waited for her. She was naked except for an odd bra like thing that left her breasts completely exposed and some crotch less panties.

“Oh my, you really do want to get him going.”

“This is for you, and I see it is working,” she replied, nodding at my cock as it rose to attention. “Follow me,” she said, walking through a door marked private.

Once inside, I could see David sitting in a chair. I could tell by looking at him he was very unsure of himself. Naked, but with an erect cock, he simply sat, looking at Annie. She walked over, kneeled in front of him and gently spread his knees. David seemed to jump as she touched him, and as she caressed his thighs, I could see his cock begin to twitch. He was moaning before she even touched his rod.

Annie continued to lightly stroke his thighs, and then leaned forward and ran a tongue along the length of his shaft. I could tell that, just from that light touch, he was about to come. Annie sensed it too, quickly grabbing him with her right hand and taking him into her mouth. She had just begun moving her head up and down, when he moaned loudly and thrust his hips upward, pressing deep into her mouth.

I watched her try to swallow it all, but some of his come leaked out around him, running down his penis and over her hand. He fell back into the chair moaning, “Oh my, oh my.”

Annie looked at me and said, “So soon, now what are we going to do the rest of the time here?” As she walked seductively towards me, I felt my penis rising. I slid back onto the bed and watched her crawl over to me. She grabbed me and began stroking. On her hands and knees, she took me in her mouth and began to suck. While moving her hand up and down on my shaft, she began twisting her head from side to side in perfect unison.

The sensation was incredible as she moved her hands and mouth perfectly on me. The wet, suction she maintained combined with the electric sensation as she slid her teeth over my glans was driving me crazy. So crazy! I didn’t immediately notice that David had walked over to the bed and was now kneeling behind her. She stopped her sucking a moment and wiggled her ass for him.

In an almost growl she said, “Come on, I know you’ve wanted me like this.” She closed her eyes a moment as he slid his penis into her cunt from behind. Once he began his motion, she continued on me.

Seeing him thrusting into her and the jolt that shivered through her body as he shoved himself to the hilt excited me incredibly. Our rhythms merged as I moved my hips up and down, my cock slipping in and out of her mouth. I could hear David slapping against Annie’s ass with each thrust, the sound inspired me. In no time I was splashing my come into her mouth. She swallowed the sticky liquid carefully and then let my penis fall out of her mouth. Her hand then left my shaft and reached between her legs to caress her clit. I lay on my back watching her work herself to orgasm as David pounded her from behind.

She began whispering, “Fuck me, please fuck me,” but soon was shouting it loudly. She massaged her clitoris, while she pressed herself back to meet David’s penis. From beneath her, I could see his balls slapping against her with each thrust. She moaned once more and cried out, “Oh I’m coming... Ah, yes.”

With that, David pressed deep inside her, “Damn, me too,” he growled through gritted teeth. The two of them then stopped their motion, pressed tightly together. After a few moments, they leaned over on their sides together, each trying to catch their breath.

After the breathing calmed a bit, I sat up and looked at David. “Welcome to the club.”

He got an odd look on his face and asked, “Is it always like this here?”

Annie smiled, “Oh you have no idea. I think your students may want to teach you a thing or two.”

“Students?” he asked.

She pointed to the back wall, where a face peeked from behind a curtain. I noticed David immediately blush, “Dan, I’d like you to meet Charlotte.”

Charlotte stepped from behind the curtain to expose a body that, though slightly overweight seemed very well preserved for her fifty-two years. She walked over and took David by the hand, saying, “Come with me, I think I’d like to work a bit on your backhand.”

David looked helplessly at me and then followed her out of the room.

I noticed Annie looking down at my cock, now hard again. “You liked Charlotte I see.”

“She’s fifty two?”

“Hard to believe, but yes, fifty two.”

“I wonder what she is like in action,” I replied.

“Ah, who’s the lecherous one now?”

(continued on part 4)

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Condo Mistress

I wasn't rushing, but I was conscious of my progress. It was after 9 p.m. and the streets were sparse, both of vehicles and people. Thick clouds had hung down low over the city since noon yesterday and tonight they were weeping their moisture in a continual downpour. The miserable late autumn weather was keeping most of the population indoors and the shows and restaurants I passed looked unusually vacant and quiet.

Not a warm picture in any one's mind, yet not near enough to get in the way of my plans for this evening. As I trudged along the sidewalk soaking wet, through the bleak dull darkness of this November night, I was buoyed by a pending event of human activity that was almost in my grasp. I was on that proverbial mission we all nurture deep inside and my goal tonight was resolute.

As I pressed further into the depth of the city towards my ultimate destination, the rain gushed forth at times, in a series of heavy downpours. I was thankful that it wasn't snow or sleet. At one point, I had to duck for cover under a cloth awning as sheets of rain fell like thick curtains of cloth.

I paused at a major intersection and stood patiently waiting for the traffic light to change to green. A billboard high atop an office building six or seven blocks over, announced the arrival of a new millennia quartz wrist watch to a chain of a nationally recognized jewellery stores. It was effective advertising campaign because I immediately checked my own watch against the time on the sign.

I'm glad I did. I was running late! No time now to consider buying a new watch, that's for sure. I had to pick up my pace.

Dispensing with usual caution, I crossed the street against the red light. I don't often rebel against civil authority but I had my orders for this evening and I wasn't about to disobey them, jay-walking ticket or not.

A couple of cars whizzed by just as I made it to the other side. Their tires sang as they sluiced through the thick layer of water that covered the pavement. Once on the south side of the street, I resumed my course and hustled along to make up the time already lost.

Up ahead, in the embrace of a glassed-in transit shelter, one solitary soul stood huddled against the storm. I had seen few others this evening so I stole a glance at the person as I passed. She was a young woman and appeared to be just as drenched as me. She was shivering in spurts and starts. Poor dear I mused and then thought that I too might be in a similar situation later on in the evening.

I stove my hands deep into my pockets and brushed away some loose strands of hair that hung dangling across my brow. The saturated strands swayed back and forth across my line of sight like wiper blades on a car.

I chose to cut across a vacant lot where an enormous developer's sign indicated a gigantic building complex sometime in the near future. The earth had been dug up and was uneven. I mumbled in guttural terms as I dodged one puddle only to slip ankle deep into another.

People who knew me would say I was crazy to be out on a night like this. But, what did they really know about me and my motivation? Could they possibly understand the value of the reward that I was looking for tonight? I don't think so. My small circle of friends has no idea what this all means to me or why I would expose myself to the foul elements a damp winter's rain storm in search of it. Yet I wouldn't have been able to explain the why and where for to them, even had I wanted to.

I checked my watch again. Punctuality is a virtue with me. And when it comes to being on time, I have always carried out my side of the agreement to the very 'letter'. After all, punctuality is one of the fundamental building blocks of obedience. Obeying orders and commands as instantaneously as they are spoke, is also one of the ways in which I show respect to Mistress Deirdre.

Mistress Deirdre is my 'Master'. I am her slave. I have been serving her for almost 15 years. She works more slaves than just me and as a guess I would say that there may be up to twenty-five other men just like me under her control. None of us really knows the other and I only found out of their existence by accident one afternoon to which I suffered a severe disciplining from Mistress.

Over the years I have been very diligent to earn Mistress's favour at every opportunity. Little wonder that nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is allowed to get in my way from achieving all that is expected of me and everything that Mistress wants, needs, and/or demands. And tonight, Mistress wants me to be in her presence at 9 p.m. sharp!

I quickened my pace once again, energized by the power over which Mistress Deirdre controls and manipulates me.

No act or occurrence is ever carried out or conducted by Mistress Deidre that hasn't already been planned out well in advance. She is a meticulous matron and a perfectionist; a virtual role model for other women who may be curious as to how it feels to completely dominate a man.

From my close association with her over the years, I have come to understand that Mistress Deirdre's recipe for success is to become thoroughly acquainted with the traits and characteristics of each of her aspiring male clients. Then, with discreet tact and aplomb, she incorporates what she learns of their behaviours and traits, into the regimen of their training. Her goal has always been to accentuate the performance skills of all of her male slaves to the very peak of perfection. I have to point out here, that her expectations are high and Mistress Deirdre suffers no fools.

According to Mistress Deirdre, the best of men, even those who have been successfully trained as male slaves to expertly service and cater to dominant women are, by there very nature, inherently clumsy, inarticulate, and to a large degree, lazy.

There is no intimacy shared between her and any of her stable of men but there is a Grand Canyon depth of understanding that exists between Mistress and her 'charges'. I suppose that is the true secret of Mistress Deidre's triumph over submissive men and why she is superior amongst equals. However, for a man to be allowed to obey the obdurate demands of her dominant nature, the path is not an easy one to follow. She depends on a very high turn over and pushes every male who yearns to service her, to his very limits.

Like all those before me, I began at the lowly level of 'John'. A 'John' is an apprentice who is placed on one month's probation. Like all the others, I was levied a substantial monetary token in exchange for the privilege of doing nothing more than removing Mistress's daily garbage and sweeping out her condo parking space once a week. If, after a few weeks of completing these tasks in an exemplary fashion, a 'John' may be further permitted to clean and sanitize Mistress's toilets, tubs, and shower stalls for the remaining two weeks of his initial servitude.

A 'John' is never allowed to deal directly with the Mistress. His only contact is an envelope clipped to the wall of her parking space. His orders are contained inside. That's his only contact. When he is finished his work, he is expected to quietly leave Mistress's premises. He pays for this solitary privilege, every week.

If a 'John' successfully endures the isolation and humiliation related to carrying out these types of demeaning tasks he may be eligible to be elevated to the next level of subservience; that of Mistress's boot licker. A submissive male has absolutely no say in the matters regarding the possibility of promotion, he is simply chosen by the Mistress to advance, or he is left at his current entry level, or he is dismissed.

Deadwood duds do not fair well in Mistress Deidre's world of Feminine Domination. They are simply not tolerated. Obey, submit, and be quiet. . .or be banished!

In the elevated position of 'Boot Licker', the monetary token required of the successful male is doubled. However, his responsibilities are increased and he is actually allowed to be in the presence of the Mistress; briefly mind you, but nonetheless a plum of a privilege for aspiring submissive males.

As for the duties, they consist of ensuring the cleanliness of all of Mistress's foot ware. For the task, the 'boot licker' is only provided with a roll of toilet tissue paper. One roll, no more, which must last him for 60 days. The only other cleaning tool at his disposal of course, is his tongue.

If, after a period of 60 days, a 'Boot Licker' maintains his desire to prove his worth even more by serving the Mistress in higher levels of task oriented and degrading labour, it is then possible for him to be selected for promotion once again.

The next level that a male in training can rise to would be that of Mistress's panty attendant. Again, there is an increase in the cost of this promotion and the aspiring male slave is cautioned that the standard value of a mere token must give way to the much higher value of that represented by a Tribute.

At this juncture in his training there is a change in objectivity. As a Panty Attendant, the completion of his tasks is far less important to his future promotions then that of his mannerisms of obedience and urgency of his reaction to Mistress's every command. However, the challenge for the male is that there is no distinction between Mistress's commands that are spoken, which are easy to recognize and carry out, and those that manifest themselves as subtle commands, perhaps no more defined than being merely implied by body language, circumstance, or social common sense. Regardless, the male must read and interpret the signs correctly and react according. Throughout it all, he must be prudent enough not to pre-empt or anticipated any order or command.

Every one of a Panty Attendant's responses and reactions is duly noted and graded. Failure on the male's part to achieve an overall grade of "A" which is equal to allowing for only 'one' mistake per day over a 14 day period, will lead to his abrupt discharge from the premises and total prohibition from any further service to the Mistress.

It is not a pretty sight to witness a supplicant male as he is being escorted from Mistress's domain as a result of his failure to serve in a proper manner.

Submissive men in these circumstances often find it extremely difficult to function in their lives after being so close to success, only to have had the door literally slammed in their face. Most suffer problems associated with serious withdrawal and the overwhelming responsibility that they must adjust their lifestyle. I knew a man who was almost consumed by depression and loneliness until he found a woman who was interested in picking up the pieces of his life.

I have also read somewhere that such men who find themselves without the constant harangue and punitive intolerance with which powerful females control submissive men, that they can become self-incarcerated into a 'vanilla' world of bland colours and mediocre existence. Not to mention the mental confinement of having to accept bland sex as a conclusive result of uninspiring groping. Many outside the 'scene' refer to that as 'foreplay' and therefore, an antecedent moment to coitus. I'm not sure how any of that would feel but it certainly doesn't sound like anything that would be sensual or erotic.

It is safe to say the 'Panty Attendants' suffer a very high rate of turnover in Mistress Deidre's realm of Domination. Only the absolute best are expected to survive this level and those who do, do so only by dedicating themselves totally in the sole pursuit of pleasing Mistress Deidre. Through strict obedience and a focus on detail can a Panty Attendant expect to succeed.

In my own case, I was happy to serve Mistress throughout all of the apprenticed levels. During each phase of my training I was consistent and dependable and always ready to serve with an ever increasing token and Tribute. I looked forward to striving for perfection in my service to Mistress and I climbed through each level of subservience to her by focusing on success and not the advent of any kind of failure on my part.

So it was with much pride, some 14 months after I began as a 'John', that I was offered the exalted position of joining Mistress Deidre's stable as one of her personal 'Slaves'.

The meaning of this achievement to a submissive male like me is akin to a religious event that is nothing short of a miracle. Mistress Deidre's offer to me meant that I had been given the honour to accept the irrefutable fact that she would be running and controlling my life for the rest of my days. It meant that I would voluntarily abdicate my autonomy as a male and that I would duly accept the fact that from here on in I would only act and behave in a manner as dictated or allowed by Mistress Deirdre.

Furthermore, going forward, I would be expected to be devoted to one role and that was satisfying all of Mistress Deirdre's needs and whims. It would also mean that I would acknowledge and agree to respect the absolute authority of Mistress Deidre in my life and submissively concede to this fact by appending my name to a legally binding contract. This administrative castration would be witnessed and the entire act would be video taped by Mistress's lawyers.

While I would never ever be allowed to occupy a place at her residence, I would forever be required to be at her beck and call, 24/7.

But there was much more that I agreed to relinquish by accepting Mistress Deirdre's promotion to be one of her personal slaves. As a binding condition of my acceptance of her offer, I also had to agree to a pecuniary forfeiture. Before I could begin as Mistress's full time slave, I had to relinquish 85% of my total net worth towards Mistress's financial needs. This money would be taken by Mistress Deidre for her own private use without question or objection from me. In addition, I agreed to continue to pay all applicable taxes for this money thereby guaranteeing no loss of the principle amount accrued to Mistress.

Financial domination is a very attractive and powerful adjunct to our long standing partnership.

So there it was. I had earned the promotion and accepted the offer to become a male submissive slave to a very dominant woman. I had agreed that I would have no control. I would have no money. I'd be a true slave in the truest sense of the word. I'd be completely and resolutely controlled by a female.

There were no red flags. I knew what I wanted. None of her draconian demands regarding my lifetime of servitude mattered to me, one iota. I loved Mistress and I immediately fell to my knees in front of her and kissed her boots, licking them to a high glistening sheen. I accepted her offer without hesitation.

Now, every second week, I humbly comply with my financial obligations by stripping naked and kneeling before her. I approach submissively on all fours like a pet dog, urging her by silent plea, to take the wallet from my mouth. After she removes a hefty wad of bills, she drops the empty pouch to the floor like a piece of discarded garbage.

"Good boy," is all she says before patting me twice on the head. Then, I am brusquely dismissed. As I leave, I observe another naked male crawling in to replace me, heading in the direction of the booted feet of Mistress Deidre. Like me, he also approaches with his wallet firmly grasped between his teeth.

Other men, all submissives of one type or another, continue to visit Mistress Deirdre. These men are received by her strictly on a 'pay-for-services' basis; incremental income for the Mistress, I suppose. My job in this scenario is to clean all of the equipment as well as the studio they use, after each session is concluded. However, for my further humiliation training, if any of her clients, for whatever reason, is unable to arrange for the proper token for services rendered, I am expected to ante up the required amount on his behalf without whimper or objection.

I was actually running full out when I passed through the main doors of the lobby of her building. My haste may have been construed as more of a way to get free of the rain than about making it on time. Reality however is that punctuality is my sole priority.

So I rushed through the secondary inside glass doors with such force that I almost lost my footing on the glazed tiled floor. Mistress Deirdre lives in a 2-level penthouse and has her own separate elevator. I located her security button with familiarity and pushed it firmly. She answered as she always does by simply pushing the 'talk' button. Her reply causes only static noise and the hint of an echo; no words are ever spoken.

My response to this is to politely request Mistress's permission to enter. Mistress responds by clicking 'off', leaving dead silence in the lobby as I'm left to stand alone and watch the water drip from the hem at the bottom of my coat. The interlude is eventually broken by the subtle soft 'click' of the door lock being released.

Deidre greeted me in a warm and welcoming manner. She was always the perfect hostess when a session is about to begin; pleasant and sincere, that was one side of Deidre not many others knew of.

This evening she was wearing a full length gown. It was a marvellous design with a very revealing slit manipulated into the front it. Any movement of her body caused the hemmed edges to fully open. The result was a breathtaking view of pearl white thighs.

The gown was a jet black and smooth as silk. It hugged her body and mapped the contour of each ebb and swell of her petite frame. String straps, flimsy by design, held the front piece of her wardrobe. Delicious firm breasts nestled there, challenging the strength of the straps and teasing those who thought they'd break under the strain.

Deidre doesn't need a lot of make up. Perhaps a subtle hint of eye shadow and a soft hue of red for her lips but that was the extent of it. Her eyes speak volumes and I listen acutely when ever I look into them. Her auburn hair glistens and it flows across her face in a natural and unassuming way. I wanted to step forward and assert myself; I wanted to embrace her lovingly; but that is never allowed.

The evening began pleasurably as I envisaged it would. I knew something unexpected was planned, but at what point it would occur, I was not sure, nor did I have any clue as to how it would 'play' out. As usual, I hid any signs of anticipation.

Mistress and I sat together in her plush suite, commiserating pleasurably about the weather, the highs and lows of my work a day world, and together, slowly, cautiously, we moved the conversation into the arena of our special interest.

Thirty minutes passed quickly. And it was at just that point in the evening when her door security buzzer activated its indiscriminate sound. Deidre excused herself politely and went over to answer it. I watched as she pushed the 'talk' button, then released it and then made contact with the 'listen' button. I noted that the procedure was conducted all in the same manner as she does with me. Barely audible, I heard a male voice request permission to enter. Mistress acknowledged by pressing the 'door' button.

My heart raced. It was most uncommon for another visitor to request permission to enter during my time with Deidre.

Deidre returned to the living room seemingly nonplussed about the whole thing and joined me as if nothing untoward had happened. But when she sat down, she chose to sit in a winged back chair opposite instead of sitting back down beside me. We took up our chat at the point where we had left off and when the knock came at her door, she asked if I would please answer it. I did as I was requested and opened the door to face not one, but two well dressed gentlemen.

The younger of the two looked to be about 25 years old. He was tall and muscular looking and rather well groomed. He had a full mane of hair and a strong face which was appointed with gleaming white teeth and a disarming smile. He stood about 6 feet tall and introduced himself as Rob. His language and choice of words bespoke of a good education and a genteel upbringing. If he were the product of a northern European heritage as I suspected he was, he had managed to assimilate to western ways, almost totally.

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