Dirty Confessions - Reveal your innermost secrets.

I've been married for over 20 years and sex with my wife has become a little stale. She has great tits and large nipples and sucks my cock really good, but I wanted something more. I was at the bar one night and a large man sat on the stool next to me. After we chatted a little he said he was in stocks and bonds. After a few more drinks he asked if I liked to suck cock. I was a little shocked, but told him I had never done it. I had fantasized a few times about it but never had the chance to suck someone off.

He then asked me if I was interested in a party with some of his other colleagues. I was just drunk enough to say yes so he had me follow him to his place. There were already a group of men there drinking and talking. He led me past them and down the stairs into the basement. He had a couple of low tables and chairs on a tile floor, but in the middle of the room he had a swing contraption. He started to strip and told me to do the same. I took off my clothes and he asked if I had ever got sucked in a swing. I told him no and he had me sit in the swing. As I sat down I noticed there wasn't much material to it and my ass was totally exposed. He asked if I wanted to get a little kinky and I said, "Sure, why not?" He strapped my ankles to a pair of bars and then cuffed my wrists up toward the top.

He reached down and started to rub my half hard cock, telling me how cute it was. I know it's not that big but had never had it described as cute before. Then he produced a mouth ring and fitted it on me so I couldn't close my mouth all the way. I wasn't sure how this was supposed to work but was a bit concerned when he put a mask over my eyes. I couldn't see a thing.

I heard him ratcheting something and felt myself being lowered and tilted back. I was essentially laying on my back in the swing. Then I heard the other men coming in. A pair of hands grabbed my head and I felt something enter my mouth. It was a cock. I didn't know who it was, but I guess that was the idea. "This isn't so bad," I thought. I tasted his cock in my mouth and as he started to mouth fuck me I tasted his pre-cum dripping out of his cock. I hadn't given any thought as what to do if he would cum in my mouth. Then it happened. He started cumming. I was in such a position I couldn't spit it out so the only choice was to swallow. He had a massive load and I nearly choked trying to get it down. He kept his cock in my mouth until I had basically sucked him clean. He finally pulled out and another took his place. He was already hard when he put his cock in my mouth.

I barely noticed when someone else started to lick my ass. My legs were spread and I couldn't do anything even if I wanted to. However, I wasn't ready for it when he took his tongue out of my ass and I felt the sharp pain of his cock being shoved in. I nearly screamed, and I finally understood why I had a mouth ring. Without it I would have bitten down with the pain. The guy in my mouth started cumming as I was being ass fucked at the same time. The pain was finally subsiding when the cock in my mouth pulled out and another took its place.

I counted nine cocks that I sucked and another six fucking me by the time we were done. My ass was literally spewing cum and I had cum all over my face when I was finally let up. All of the other men were gone and I have no idea who they were. I will say that in the beginning I tried to resist, but by the fourth cock in my mouth and second in my ass I was thoroughly enjoying it. We plan on meeting a couple of times a month, but next time I need to find a way to not have cum all over me when I leave to go home.


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Miss Jessica Wood

Strict Disciplinarian & Face sitting Specialist

My name is Miss Jessica Wood. I am a strict mistress and frequently cruel woman, who thoroughly enjoys all aspects of BDSM. I have an extensive wardrobe and always dress in the appropriate attire for the chosen aspect of BDSM. I am also renowned for my roleplay abilities, so you will soon forget where you are and lose yourself in a session if you dare to play along with me.

My Location

Sessions are normally held in Watford, Hertfordshire but I do also have regular tour dates elsewhere in the UK.

One of my most popular caning sessions is to be a strict Headmistress which I find so enjoyable in sessions. I love telling off naughty pupils for their behaviour and in between punishments sending them to the corner with their hands on their heads or getting them to write some lines. Then finally using my cane to give six of the best (or usually a lot more), and hearing it swish through the air before landing a blow on a bottom always fills me with glee. The cane was such a traditional school punishment for naughty boys and today it lives on in my sessions. Role-play is a speciality of mine so you can act out your strict Headmistress fantasy with me.

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The hairbrush is my second favourite way to punish. I love the way that you can make a bottom red all over by hitting different areas each time. I am especially fond of very fast hairbrushing, or a build up of hard OTK hairbrush spanking, both of which can really give you a very sore bottom. I have a few mean little hairbrushes, a wooden red hairbrush, a larger light wood hairbrush, a classic Mason and Pearson hairbrush.and a few plastic paddle hairbrushes. They all deliver a great spanking, but the wooden hairbrushes are of course the worst (or best!). Drapped over my lap with your hands on the floor I will hold you in place whilst your naughty bottom gets what it deserves. I particularly like moving from a hand spanking, to a slipper spanking and then finally onto a hairbrush spanking, as the intensity build up with each.


tagRomanceThoughts of Skye

Thoughts of Skye

I sit here unable to concentrate on anything but our night together. I remember lying in your bed awake, wanting you so badly, but afraid to wake you. My erection strains against your leg. You moved, are you awake? I'm not sure, so I remain still. You moved again and you lightly kiss my cheek. I turn so that our mouths meet. We start ever so slowly, and I am still unsure of if you want to be fully awoken, or if you would rather kiss gently in a drowsy state, only to drift peacefully back to sleep.

You reach for my cock, and your touch is magnificent. So gentle, and so electric. I know now that you want more than a few kisses, and our kissing becomes more intense, but your stroking my hardness remains so exquisitely gentle... heavenly. I want to return your touch, but my position makes it difficult. As we continue to kiss your hand is driving me wild, I want you so badly that I can't put it into words, but I do... simply saying, "I want you." I wonder if you have any idea how badly.

"I want you too," is your response. I shift my position to gain access to you. I nibble on your ear, your neck, your shoulder, your breast... all the while rubbing your clit. You're wet already, and you reach behind your bed for your secret stash. You hand me the condom, and you return your attention to my throbbing cock. Your soft touch feels so good, I almost don't want to put the condom on, so as to end the ecstasy you're delivering to me. But I do, and I move to enter you.

I enter you more easily than I have so far. You are so wet, so warm, so tight. We start to move, and it feels so good. We have to fight to be quiet so as to not wake your roommate. You are so beautiful, so sexy, so hot... I want so badly to tell you that I love you. It isn't the first time I've wanted to tell you, and it won't be the last. I'm afraid to tell you though. It has gotten me into trouble in the past, and I don't want to repeat mistakes.... but I want to tell you. Do you know? Do you feel the same way? Are you in love with me? If I tell you right now, will it scare you? Will it ruin the moment? I know you are still seeing other guys, so I'm afraid to tell you. I'm afraid one of these days when we're having sex, I will blurt it out... I have Tourette's when it comes to these things. Tonight I remain silent, but inside I'm screaming "I LOVE YOU".

Our sex lasts shorter than the previous weekend. You feel too good for me not to cum. Our rhythm is slow and deliberate. Each stroke I feel myself nearing climax. I can't hold it, as I cross the threshold I throw my mouth onto the pillow so as to muffle my groans and hold you so tight I'm afraid I hurt you. I wonder how disappointed you are that I came so quickly. I am determined though to give you pleasure. You are reluctant to allow me to go down on you, but you have no idea how happy it makes me to give you pleasure. The slight bitterness of the latex condom is nothing compared to the joy I get in feeling you respond so favorably to my mouth. I lick you slowly at first, but it isn't long before I'm giving you as much as I can. I slide one finger inside you while I continue to flick your clit with my tongue. With my other hand I trace your bum hole, but afraid to penetrate it because we've not discussed it, and I'm afraid it might disgust you. But you respond so favorably when I touch you there, I think this might be in our future.

After several minutes of this attention, I can tell you are going to cum. As I had hoped based on our last time together I got to watch you climax again and again from the stimulation of my tongue and fingers. Again I want to tell you that I love you, but I settle for telling you how hot you are. I'm hard again, and I want to have sex again. Should I have suggested it? You have to work in the morning, so we instead drift off to sleep again.

As I type this, I'm of course very hard again. I have had to stop occasionally to touch myself and savor the memory of last night. I want to share this with you immediately, but think I should wait. I look forward to the day I can share it with you, and wonder how you will have responded to it. Are you disturbed that I would write this? Or have you gotten aroused yourself? I'm still learning you.

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by Victoria1310/23/14

Loved it.

You should write more from your journal


My gym teacher has a panty fetish!

I found out my gym teacher has a panty fetish in the funniest way possible. It all started when girls in my gym class started complaining that their panties kept disappearing. They thought that one of the boys was sneaking in while we were out in the gym.  However, I had a different idea. I saw the way the gym teacher was always staring at us all in our short little shirts jumping up and down when we play volleyball. I had a feeling he was a perv, now I just had to prove it. So I waited until he told us all to start running laps while he went back to set up the volleyball net and then I snuck back in.

That’s when I caught him red-handed and knew without a doubt that he had a panty fetish!

He was going through our lockers and he had one pair of panties on and he was sniffing tight teen pussy juices off another at the same time! I made sure to take my phone out and snap some pics for proof. He tried to cover what he was doing when he heard me walk in but it was too late. I had all the proof I needed and unless he wanted me to tell the principal what he had been up to then he would have to do exactly as I said.

I made him bend over and I grabbed a water bottle that was sitting on the edge of his desk. Then I pulled those panties to the side and shoved it up his ass until he squealed like a pig. It was so funny to see him trying to back away from the bottle but I didn’t let him. I made him hold still while I rammed it in and I even made him push back on it and oink.

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I told this Chinese webcam chat village woman that I wanted to have sex with her when she asked me for some money. She wanted to go to her native for a few days. I could see that my maid also have some interest in me. That’s why she did not think and happily agreed. I went to the room first and removed all my clothes. Then, I called her to the room and she sat in front of me wearing this saree and looking at my junk. She removed her black panty and spread the legs for me so that I lied on top and banged her as hard as possible.

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Showing Out

"Good afternoon Missus Moore, sorry to disturb you" I heard as if from a far.

'What the hell's that?' I thought wondering whether I was dreaming.

I realised that I had dozed off. The glass of wine at lunch and the warm sun had got to me.

Daniel our relief gardener was standing off to one side from where I was lying on a sun lounger. Jerry our usual gardener was on holiday.

'Oh fuck' I said as I saw him. 'Bollocks' I muttered to myself pulling the bra of my bikini across my bare boobs. I had forgotten that he was working on the Tuesday this week and not Jerry's usual Wednesday.

"Yes Dan, what is it?" I asked feeling massively embarrassed.

"I need the weed killer and fertiliser."

When I had shown him where they were kept my embarrassment had subsided. I had walked with him across the patio to the little courtyard behind the garage where we had a small shed where we stored such stuff. I had been acutely aware of the thirty something guy's eyes on me as he followed me and then as we went into the shed together.

I was wearing a fairly brief bikini, black with some yellow markings. As it was a two-year-old model I knew it fitted me quite snugly, especially across my bum and boobs. I also knew that as I walked my hips would sway, my bottom would wiggle and my, nowadays D+, boobs would jiggle.

Looking for the stuff in the relatively coolness of the shed I didn't realise until we emerged and I saw his gaze on them that my nipples had hardened.

As he went off to get on with his work I realised that the embarrassment had changed to another sensation – arousal.

I have no idea what made me do it. I was in Berlin on business a couple of weeks later. I was alone and the weather was gorgeous; sunny and low-eighties with a light breeze. I was going shopping late in the afternoon prior to a business dinner in the evening and I decided to go without my bra. Even more to the point, I wore a scooped front, blue and white hooped top. It wasn't that low cut, but if I bent forward most of my breasts were on show and even though the material was heavy cotton the outline of them was, at times, quite evident. I knew all of that as I had spent a few minutes in front on the mirror checking my appearance or, as it could be described, practising.

As I strolled along the streets and round the shops, the attention wasn't continual, but it was regular. Not everyone looked at me, but numerous men and a few women did and that gave me a hell of a charge. I was extremely aware that my boobs would be wobbling and swaying and that all the time my aroused nipples would be making interesting protuberances in the material.

"May I show you anything else?" The short, dark haired, German shop helper asked looking deeply into my eyes. That made my heart pound a little.

"Such as?"

I had bought a couple of tops and a scarf in the small, stylish boutique.

"We have everything, skirts, dresses, coats or.................." she said in impeccable English leaving the sentence unfinished.

"Yes I know" I replied gulping a little as I realised that she was staring at my breasts.

"Underwear perhaps" she smiled running her gaze very obviously up to meet mine then dropping it again to where my nipples were pulsating with sensation.

The feelings were coming over me more frequently now. The urge to do something, show something and be looked at was occurring more regularly with shorter intervals than ever before. I had experienced this need for many years, but until recently, coincidentally it seems when I passed my forty-fifth birthday, I had been able to control it with relative ease. That was no longer the case. Now I was more frequently giving into the temptations, the desire, the wish the tremendous urge to show myself sexually to others. Although I had resisted acknowledging it before I was being forced to accept that I was an exhibitionist.

I lead a typically English, middle class life. We have a big house in its own grounds, Richard, my husband has a top of the range Rangerover and I have a BMW 330, we have a holiday home in Florida and we part own a villa in Tuscany. I work freelance editing articles and writing copy for a friend's ad agency and I do some voluntary work. Richard is a corporate lawyer and is on the board of governors of a private school nearby. We both belong to the local golf club and I am a member of a tennis club in the next town to St Albans where we live. We are financially well off with both of us having inherited from our parents and me having sold a family business; Richard was the lawyer who helped me sell the business and we ended up celebrating the sale in bed. Pillars of society or so it seems on the surface!

Richard has always enjoyed photography and spends a fortune on cameras, lenses and lights. About ten years ago he first persuaded me to pose for him in 'glamour' shots. At first these were just swimsuit and underwear shots, but gradually we got braver and we moved on to topless then nude. Looking back, I guess that was the start of my realisation of my exhibitionist streak. I had resisted posing for him for probably a couple of years I guess, although the suggestion did excite me. That said, when we started I was so nervous. Inevitably, I guess I quickly overcame that and soon the camera became my lover and the lens the cock that I wanted to fuck me. That never happened, but Richard did, and wonderfully too, often on the carpet and once or twice out in the garden. Every time we had a session we had fantastic sex that was much better than when without the stimulus of the camera.

Realising that I was an exhibitionist scared me. It was a hard concept to take on board, but the evidence was overwhelming so I had to accept it.

I needed to find out more. With my lawyer of a husband travelling so much and my two children at university I had time on my hands, too much really, but it did mean I could use the net for research.

I learned a lot very quickly

I was a keen tennis player and belonged to a local club. My husband Richard was not interested so the club was own domain, he never came there and I didn't include him in anything, not even the social events.

Recently I had started back at the gym. I made it about three times a week for an hour or so; twenty minutes stretching, twenty on the cross trainer and twenty swimming. Then half hour or so in the steam room, sauna and spas.

My research and general feelings told me that both of these were ideal for my, what I knew was becoming a compulsion. I sort of hoped that the fix I got from them might stop me trying to find a bigger fix from other activities.

I had always enjoyed wearing tennis skirts, tight tops, training gear and swim-suits. I liked the feeling of freedom and the glances and stares at my bare legs, my breasts emphasised by tight clothing and my bum in a swimsuit or lycra crops.

Now I was relishing it even more and, of course, I was playing to it. The tennis skirts were shorter or more flared. The tops were lower-cut and tighter across my breasts. The panties under the skirt and the bras under the tops were not sports gear, but were straightforward 'intimate apparel.' I stopped wearing anything under the tight cropped, pedal pusher pants in the gym and in the pool area I took to wearing bikinis instead of one piece suits.

The gym was more of a 'meat market' than the tennis club. The latter was more discrete, but underlying that there was still a great deal of come on and suggestive behaviour. There was a number of guys aged thirty to fifty I guess whose wives were not members. They were always on the prowl. Then there were the married couples who wanted, it seemed and it was rumoured, to partner swap; something Richard would never stoop too, well at least not with me. And then of course there were the coaches; young men, fit and virile who gave lessons to everyone, particularly older women. It was strongly rumoured and I had no reason to doubt it that they did a lot more with those older woman than give lessons. Being a fairly proficient player I had no need for lessons, though I was often tempted by the 'lot more.'

That said, I loved the feel of their eyes on me when I was on court or sitting around after playing having a drink. I enjoyed them looking at my tits leaping all over the place, my bum wobbling under the thin skirt and my bare legs on show. I got a kick from them seeing the outline of my bra through my top and the occasional explosion of one or both nipples as I was on court. I exaggerated my movements so that my top was stretched across my tits more frequently and so that my skirt flared away from me flashing my 'unsuitably for tennis really' flimsy panties. I thought about wearing a thong under there, but felt that was probably going a little too far.

It was the same at the gym. Tight clothing, no panties, ordinary instead of sports bra, revealing tops, lots of flesh and bouncing boobs and wobbling bum cheeks. I loved the guys mainly, but the occasional female too looking at me, ogling me and maybe mentally undressing me.

In the pool complex I would sit in the steam room and let the perspiration flow so that my bikini was soaked. As others looked on in the steamy, foggy environment I would rub the perspiration in so that I touched my body all over. I would arouse myself even more as I covertly ran a small towel across my tits.

With the gym and tennis 'fuelling my habit' I was 'at it' so much of the time now. I would do my housework or writing in the nude and wander the garden topless. In addition to my, almost, daily gym or tennis 'flash' I was most days doing something else. When shopping wearing a revealing top, tight trousers or shorts with no panties so there was no VPL. 'Forgetting' to wear a bra, shorter skirts either very tight or flared and of course nothing under them. I had urges to pull the skirt and flash everything or to get my tits out in public, but of course I didn't. After all pillars of society don't do such things.

But they can and do indulge in research. What an Aladdin's cave' of information googling exhibitionism produced!

There's a mine of technical psychobabble trying to explain it, loads of photo sites, which are just excuses for porn, quite a few blogs and a number of sites you can join, which I did. There was one in particular letmehelpyoubeseen.com that I enjoyed.

It was more an email and blog, but it also offered a range of services. In some ways it was a little like Samaritans for a coach was assigned to each member to whom you could then relate.

Mine was Paul. He was in his late forties and from the posted photo I saw he was well-built, with dark hair greying at the temples and a nice, well-tuned physique.

We exchanged emails to get to know each other. He explained that he was a naturist as well as a committed exhibitionist, but avoided flashing in fear of being arrested or being tagged as a paedophile. He also explained that many exhibitionists were also voyeurs, but with a bias towards one or the other; a sentiment with which I agreed

"I only flash when it's very safe unless I am with a woman" he told me on the phone after we had been exchanging emails for a while.

"And what do you then?"

"We kiss and caress in public enjoying people seeing us touch and fondle each other."

That interested and excited me a little. The prospect of being fondled in public was a big turn on.

"Ok and?"

"We have sex in places where we might get caught" he thrilled me even more by saying.

The coaches on the site are available to their 'exis' as we are termed, but do not push themselves. As Paul and I got to know each other so I agreed to his suggestions to camshare. I didn't dare use my home laptop as that was provided by and looked after by Richard's firm and I was suspicious at what they checked up on. So I bought a notebook with a built in cam and microphone that I kept hidden.

The first time we cammed I was incredibly nervous. He was every bit as attractive as his photo. He was wearing a white tee that was stretched tightly across his broad chest; he looked good.

We got on equally well talking and seeing each other as we had in exchanging emails. We did that about every other day for a couple of weeks and we became quite close. I liked him.

It never ceased to amaze me, though, just how frank and open people can be with the anonymity of the net shrouding them. I told him everything that I did, the clothes I wore, how I felt at the gym and so on. He advised me that I wasn't that unusual and explained his feelings and actions, which were not that dissimilar to mine, but from a male point of view.

"I would love to walk down the street with my hard dick out" he explained replicating the feelings I had about lifting my skirt or getting my tits out that I had earlier explained to him.

"Well you could always do that Cat."

"How do you mean, in public?"

"Well not very public."

"What then?" I asked as I saw his hand go to his belt.

"On here."

"Oh I see, what you and me?"

"To start yes."

"What do you mean to start?"

"Well letmehelp really does do that you know?"

"Do what?"

"Well by setting up cam groups, arranging photo sessions and providing escorts for flashing evenings or for visiting dogging venues."

"Cam groups?" I asked.

"Yes. Where a number of people all log on and watch your cam."

"And I do what?" I asked feeling flushed at the thought of the answer I knew I would get.

"Whatever pleases and excites you."

"You mean flashing?"

"Yes if that is what you want to do Cat" he said softly as his fingers fiddled with his belt."

There was a longish pause as we stared at each other. He broke it with.

"I want to expose myself to you."

"You heard Cat I want you to see my cock."

"Oh my God."

"Do you want to see it?" He asked undoing his belt. "Or do you want to show me something?"

My mouth was dry and my heart was pounding with excitement and expectation. He had hit the nail right on the head for what he suggested I realised was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to flaunt myself at him, flash my body to him and have him watch me as I exposed myself. I hadn't thought much about looking at him, but if the price of being an exhibitionist to him was being a voyeur of him it was such a small one that it was worthwhile.

"Well Cat?" He asked gently.

"Yes" was all I could gasp.

"Yes Paul. Yes both" I whimpered as I watched him undo his zip.

I was fascinated watching him slide his jeans and boxers off in one go. He wasn't wearing socks, thankfully. The tee shirt was long so his cock was covered. He took hold of the hem of the tee. His eyes bored into mine from my screen as raising his bushy eyebrows he asked.

"Yes Cat, shall I?"

"Yes Paul" I said in an almost inaudible whisper.

My temperature must have soared and I am sure that he would have heard the pounding of my heart as he eased the tee shirt upwards slowly revealing his fully erect dick. It and he looked lovely and I realised there and then that he was right and that I was a voyeur as well as an exhibitionist.

He stroked his cock and asked.

"Ok Cat?"

"Yes Paul, very much so."

"You know what I want you to do Cat as that is what you want to do as well isn't it?"

I knew what he meant of course.

"Yes Paul it is" I replied my shaking fingers going to the top button of the tight, crispt, white cotton blouse. There were already three, which was arguably one to many, buttons undone. I undid another and knew that he would be seeing my white bra and the flesh of my breasts.

"And what is that Cat?" He asked as one of his hands ran across his fairly hairy chest as the other slowly pumped his thick, circumcised cock that I so easily could visualise in my mouth or up me. That made me shudder.

"I want to flash at you Paul."

"Yes Cat yes, but what do you want me to see?"

"My breasts, I want to show them to you" I said undoing the remaining buttons.

"Yes Cat show them to me let me see them. Flash your tits at me Cat."

I removed the blouse.

"Oh yes they look awesome" he groaned staring at my tits and seeing my nipples through the thin lace.

"Take it off Cat, bare your tits for me."

He seemed instinctively to know what I wanted to do.

I quickly unclipped the bra and removed it as I watched him pumping his cock more purposefully.

"They are lovely, so lovely" he grunted as without thinking I cupped both of them and caressed them. "Is that nice Cat?"

"Mmmm" I muttered.

"What's better the touching or the flashing?"

"Oh Paul I don't know, they are both so good."

We finished there. Well for that afternoon. But inevitably we did it again although we didn't go further that time either. We arranged to 'meet' online the next afternoon.

"Why don't we wear dressing gowns" he suggested. Of course I knew why, but of course I agreed.

I was immensely excited getting ready. I live in a horrible, big, old and draughty Victorian pile of a house that has been in Richard's family since it was built in the eighteen fifties. The only part of it that I like is the large conservatory that I had built on a few years ago. That is my place where I work and often play. It's the only pleasingly warm room in the house as it has underfloor heating

It seemed odd undressing in my bedroom at just after lunch and putting on a dressing gown. I selected a white, silk robe. It was mid-thigh length and just had a tie, no buttons. Even standing up straight, it gaped a bit at the front and, of course leaning forward as I did several times in front of the mirror, it seemed to leap away from my breasts to reveal most of them. 'Fuck' I thought I am even getting turned on flashing to myself!!!

I did my ash-blonde hair leaving it down, fixed my make-up and slipped into a pair of mid-height heeled sandles.

I went downstairs at just after two to get ready for my online meeting with Paul. To add to the atmosphere I took the notebook into the conservatory where I expected to undress and flash for him. Although, it is not overlooked, the windows surrounding me heightened the sensations I got when I had paraded around it naked before. I could hardly imagine what those feelings would be like as Paul and I exposed our bodies to each other.

"Are you going to undo it Cat?" Paul asked after we had been chatting for no more than ten minutes. I was terribly nervous and tense.

Smiling I said coyly. "Are you Paul?"

"Of course" he said pulling on the tie on his dark blue gown. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" he laughed.

That made me smile and feel less nervous, but still my fingers were shaking as looking down I took the tie in them. I looked up and gasped when I once more saw Paul's wonderfully swollen cock.

"Ok Cat, like it?"

"Mmmm" I murmured undoing the tie and slowly opening the robe. It was the first time I had been naked with him.

"Oh God Cat you are gorgeous. Stand up please."

I let the gown slip off me and stood up facing the camera and Paul's gaze. That sent tremendous shudders of desire and sheer pleasure through me. As I watched his eyes roaming up and down my naked body. I felt it taking in my legs, my landing strip of pubic hair and my glistening lips poking through them. They ranged upwards, across my tummy and waist and onto my breasts. I felt fantastic.

"Turn round Cat, show me the rest."

The buzz going through me as I slowly turned round revealing my bare bum to him for the first time was tremendous.

"You are fucking gorgeous Cat" He muttered as I completed my slow twirl and faced him again.

With my confidence boosted from stripping for Paul, the adrenalin rush I was getting from standing in the middle of conservatory naked and from his generous comments I smiled and said.

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Soup Request: Lindsey Pelas

On my phone but dem titties though!!! Do your magic soup!!!

<img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f323/RINGRAGE/Mobile%20Uploads/lindsey-pelas-4_zpsvixdpmtk.jpg"

The OG will say she is too fake.

Inn! But only because I want to support my man CHF! ;)

Used to be a 10. Now has had all the face tweaks and ass work.

Looks a bit fake but still a god among man.

No thanks, Google that plastic thing yourself

We're doing soup requests for known prostitutes now?

e. kaye -

The OG will say she is too fake.

would they be wrong? you shouldn't have to buy a nice looking face.

On pornhub there are playboy videos that clearly show her snatch and butthole

i think she's hotter with the surgery. I'm into that broken soul look


Tantric massage, Nuru massage and Lingam massage in the South East by English blonde

Home | Lingam Massage | Nuru Massage | Tantric massage | Gallery | FAQs | Rates
Bookings | Availability | Blogs | Links

Email: tefactors7@gmail.com

Do you have shower facilities?

Yes of course I do, and I always have fresh towels. I will also have refreshments and if your lucky you might get a sweetie if I haven't scoffed them all!

What times are you available?

With at least three days notice I can see you Monday - Thursday between the hours of 11AM and 4:30PM.

Are you a qualified massuse?

I am indeed, I'm a Holistic Therapist. Holistic health means that your psychological, physical and lifestyle is treated and assessed as a whole as it all contributes to your mental and physical wellness. I practice various techniques of massage, including Aromatherapy and Indian head massage. Colonic Hydra therapy, Reflexology, Crystal healing Reki, and meditation. I have also studied Anatomy and Physiology for the whole body amongst other things. I am about to start a degree course in Acupuncture and Chinese Medicine.

Is it really you in the photo's

If I was going to cheat I would cheat with the likes of Charlize Theron. So yes it's me, and no they haven't been photo shopped or touched up in any way.

Are you really English?

I am indeed. Although I wish I lived somewhere exotic!

Can I touch?

I do like you to remain passive throughout your massage. You will benefit more from the massage if you just relax, let go and enjoy! However there is still plenty of opportunity for you to gently touch my body when we get into the physical part of the experience. And don't forget, I give you body to body, so you will feel my body in contact with yours most of the time! I must admit though guys, I don't like been grabbed, poked, prodded, squeezed hard and pulled around. I will not respond well to this and neither of us will have a good time. I know it's very exciting and that you are very horny, but please remember I am a woman not an animal in a zoo. I must be touched gently and treated with respect at all time at all times.

Age limits?

I would prefer to meet with Gentlemen over the age of 40 only please.

How do i make a booking?

Please click the "bookings" tab on my profile.

Can i have your number/call you?

I only take calls from people who have secured a booking. If you would like to make contact please use the AW email system or contact me via the email address on my website. The link is at the bottom of the page.

Do you offer penetration?

No sorry I don't offer this. All services i do like are included in my profile. I am more of a naughty Tantric massage sort of woman.

What oils do you use?

I use a base oil, which is usually grape seed or almond oil. Then I can add aromatherapy oil depending on whether you want it or not. The carrier oil is non scented.

Do you offer edging?

In a way yes, there is a lot of edging in the Lingam massage but it wont be like the typical edging sessions I have seen described on here.

Are you fully naked throughout massage?

I am fully naked during hour and longer appointments.

I have negative feed back, will you see me?

It depends. If you have 30 positive and 1 negative, depending what the negative was, it may not be a problem. If like my last booking, you have 3 positive, 2 negative and 7 disputes, then the answer is no. If you hide your feed back, I will not see you. If you have more than 2 alias then I wont see you.

Am I right for you? You right for me?

*I don't like to see men who are under the age of 40.

*If you are the hyperactive ADHD type, this is not the service for you as it requires a certain amount of stillness both physically and mentally. I'm very grounded, laid back and calm and overly stimulated can't sit still or switch off types make me feel uneasy in this particular setting.

*If you don't like oil, it's not for you, I can try to accommodate with the use of talc or gel but it's really not the same and I'd feel dreadful if you weren't 100% happy.

*If you have feedback from Escorts who offer bareback, your not for me.

*If I notice you have been leaving derogatory or rude comments on other ladies pages, then you are not for me.

*If you are the kind of person who only washes once, twice or three times a week then it's unlikely I will give you oral, please take this into consideration.

*I am overweight - No problem.

*I have disabilities - No problem, drop me an email to discuss if you have specific requirements.

*If you have non-infectious skin conditions like eczema or psoriasis that's fine, so long you are not having a flare up.

*I am going through some health issues and may not be able to perform - We can work together so that you leave satisfied.

*I only want human touch, some TLC, to be spoilt and have someone to talk to, climax is just an added bonus - Your wish is my command.

*I am an older gent - My older gents are my favorite!

*If you are very obese, not the Doctors version of obese.. If you are very overweight I will struggle to give you a good Tantric/Lingam/Nuru massage purely because it is much much harder, please take this into consideration.

*If you like to go on "punts" refer to yourself as a "punter" frequent sites like punter net and such then we will most certainly clash. I don't want to see these types of people. Ever. If you are the rude, crass type, we will not get along and you will be wasting your time and money.

Your profile says you are accessing from another country.

This is because of the browsers I use. I don't use Google to access adultwork for security and privacy reasons. Sadly I'm always in the UK unless I am lucky enough to be on holiday in which case I won't be logged in at all!

More of a polite request than a FAQ

Personal hygiene: OK so here's the thing, most people are not as fresh as they should be given the fact they are visiting a lady for sexual services. A lot of you will wash your willy off but not your pubes, balls or bum.

It sounds crude and off putting but it is a reality us women have to suffer. During our massage session I do a lot of body to body work, I get into all the nitty gritty parts. I sit directly over your bottom while I massage you, I give anal play, prostate massage, I massage your perineum, balls etc.. Catch my drift?

Please wash the entire area including under your foreskin with soap and water three times just for good measure. I have shower facilities, fresh towels and toiletries. It is for your enjoyment just as mine, as I will not be going out of my way to pleasure you if your body odor is making me feel like I might pass out. No amount of spray on deodorant or aftershave is going to mask the smell of unwashed genitalia.

I'M not a squeamish person I have spent time working as a geriatric nurse, but some of you lot just take the biscuit. For all of you who think I moan to much, (yes I've seen all your sneaky little bitching sessions on forums you cowardly worms) most of what I say is in humor and it's just my getting my point across gently.

This IS a moan and it's understandable as I'm sure you would agree, and if you feel offended, put off or annoyed by my request for good hygiene then your the kind of person I don't want to spend time with anyway, so it all works out well. Mwahz :-) p.s I really really hate aftershave and body spray.

Are you dominant

No. This is a Tantric service, nothing to do with domination or humiliation in any way. I am pretty upfront on my profile with my likes and dislikes. A lot of it is said in humor to get my point across, but I am not at all dominant in person.

Do you leave/need feedback.

I'm not a fan of the feedback rating system, although I understand that it is important to be able to see good "reviews". I have over 50 at the moment and I feel that is more than enough to get an idea as to whether I'm genuine or not. As a rule I don't tend to leave feedback, if it's important to you though I will do so of course. Do I want feedback? Not so much to be honest, unless you have to share your experience then of course it is also fine.

Is it Lingam or Lingham

Lingam massage is a massage of your Lingam which is your penis, all perfectly described on my profile. I have been doing this for a while and since I started, I've noticed other Tantric masseuses started to offer their own variation.

However! They are all spelling it wrong, which would suggest they haven't a clue what a Lingam massage actually entails, do they even know what your Lingam is? Will you go along thinking your gonna get your jollies and actually end up getting a nipple massage or some other part of your anatomy poked and prodded by a fraudster who's just blagging their way through the whole service?

Who knows, I for one have no idea what a Lingham is, so be prepared for a surprise. Am I pissed off that the Del boy's and Rodney's of AW are copying me?? Yes, your damn right I am, especially when they are doing it all wrong.

The cheek of it, the bloody scoundrels! It is an absolute art form that I have practiced, finely tuned and perfected to suit each individual client so that it is always an original and unforgettable experience, that I know, no one can match !

Put it this way guys, if you go for a Lingham massage your not getting the real deal. It's like Calvin Klein vs Galvin Cline or Chanel vs Channel, you know the fake bottles you can pick up at the pound store right? Well, fake, cheap copies are never worth it in the long run, you will probably just end up with some kind of weird rash, and not the mind blowing experience I promise to offer you! (I'm just trying to have a little fun with this

 Anyway, the actual Lingam massage is fantastic, and has my lovely male friends going mad over it. Please don't go for a crappy sub standard massage from someone who has no idea what they are doing and has just added it to their profile to add another notch to their belt. You will be wasting your time. Grrrrrr :-p

People who call me a girl

I am a woman and i fully embrace feminine powers . Look up the definition of girl, that most definitely is not me, i passed puberty many years ago.

I have to admit, it irritates me that women on this web site always get refferd to as "girls". Imagine calling a grown man in his 50's a boy, sounds odd, right? Well, the same applies for us women. Just pointing something out. ;-)

Frequently Asked Questions


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TV Shows » Ghostwriter »

Trump Card
Bunny1 PM
In 'What's Up With Alex', Gaby wrote a letter that got to her big-brother--- eventually. What if she tried a different, more direct approach? One-shot; complete.
Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort/Family - Gaby F. & Alex F. - Words: 928 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 2 - Published: 10-03-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5419593
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

Gaby's hand hovered over the keys; writing a letter wasn't going to work. Not this time... She went home and changed into a frilly yellow crop top and matching shorts and slipped on some pale lip gloss. Part of her considered bringing Hector, but, another part thought that would be disrespectful of Alex. She did smile when she thought of Hector, though; her very best friend, and sometimes a little more, as he was the first person who made the young girl's heart flutter uncontrollably in her chest at times. She wondered if she had the same effect on him, but, it wouldn't be ladylike to ask... especially if he said "no", and that would just be too mortifying...

When she reached Kevin's house, his mom let her in, and she walked up the stairs towards his room. A sour smell poured from beneath the door, and she could guess what was going on, but she bravely opened the door and walked on in. She didn't recognize anyone except for Kevin, and him only vaguely, since he'd only been to the house the one time. She walked over to the bed where he was sitting.

"Hi..." she said hesitantly.

"Well, well, well... hel-lo." he said, looking at her with great interest.

Gaby cleared her throat. "Um, is Alex... somewhere around here? I thought..."

Kevin smirked. "No, babydoll, but he's on the way. I'll keep you company till then."

Gaby was growing increasingly uncomfortable, but, she wanted to help her brother, that was the bottom line.

"You do recognize me, right?" she asked him in a whispered tone. "I'm Gaby---"

"Yeah, yeah, right..." Kevin lied smoothly.

He didn't recognize her at all, but, she was a beauty, and toking up always made him more horny than hungry. Those legs...

"You'd better sit next to me." he said. "Some of the guys in here, real cooze hounds." he smirked. "I'll protect ya."

Forty minutes had gone by, and Gaby was beginning to wonder if Alex was even coming, if maybe she wasn't wasting her time. But, with all the smoke in the room she was starting to feel a little woozy, even though she herself hadn't taken anything. She didn't know about contact highs... She squrimed when Kevin began nibbling at her neck.

"Don't..." she giggled, though, in the back of her mind, wondered why that was the reaction she was having.

"Come on... you smell so georgeous..." he murmured. "Your skin..." he said, stroking her thigh a bit with his fingertips, "it's so soft, tastes like rasberry yougurt..."

Suddenly, Gaby's heart was pumping in her throat, and she just wanted out.

"N-no..." she said, shoving him away.

"Get back over here, babydoll." he said, putting a hand on her waist.

"Let go! I came here to look for my brother!"

"Okay, okay, easy..." he said, grabbing her arms. "Who's your brother?"

"Me." said a voice from behind Gaby.

Kevin looked up with a crooked, stoned smile. "Alejandro!" he said. "Hi! I was just getting to know your sister... Man, you didn't tell me she was so hot--- ow!" he yelled indignantly.

In one fluid motion, Alex had yanked Gaby behind him and popped Kevin in the eye.

"Dude, not cool!"

"You're telling me what's 'cool'? That's rich." Alex said derisively. "Know what? I'm taking her home--- I find out you touched her, I will kill you, and I mean it." he said, yanking Gaby roughly by the hand and dragging her out of the room, down the stairs and out onto the street.

They were silent until about halfway home, Alex finally stopped and let go of her wrist. He watched, frowning as she rubbed it.

"Sorry." he said gruffly. "Didn't mean to be too rough."

"I'm okay." she said quietly. "Why would you go to a place like that? Hang out with people like that?"

Alex gave her a harsh glare.

"Hey, I was there looking for you!" she shot back, angry. "I was worried, and I didn't know what else to do! I thought confronting you was better than writing some lameoid letter, or just telling you when lately you're like a brick wall!"

Alex sighed. "Yeah... you're right. Seeing you there... scared the shit outta me." he admitted. "The thought of what might've happened to you... and if I were to bring people like that into our lives--- become a person like that? How would I protect you? It's my job..."

Gaby bit her lower lip. At least that was gratifying...

"I love you, too, Alex. But, I want you to not do drugs for your sake, not just mine."

Alex quirked his mouth a bit. "I know that. But, you have to understand, that there is the just me, just Alex... but, a big part of me is your big brother, and I'm gonna always wanna protect you. Also, pot gives you the munchies, and why would I wanna ruin this awesome six pack?" he joked.

Gaby smiled a bit tearfully, hugging him tight. "Love you, too."

Alex smiled, stroking her hair as he hugged her back, then pushed away. "Mushy-mushy; save it for my funeral." he quipped. "Come on, let's get home."

And, Gaby laughed as he tossed an arm around her, leading her home, knowing in her heart that everything was going to be all right...

Favorite : Story Author   Follow : Story Author


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She had been flirting with me for five years. Though I was sorely tempted again and again, I had been trying to avoid an entanglement, while remaining friends and colleagues.

And now I found myself in the back of an UberBLACK car on the way to the airport with my right hand between her legs, my middle finger deep in her warm wet pussy, my thumb thrumming her clitoris, and my left hand fondling her generous D-cup breast through her silk shirt, while she moaned into my mouth.

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The driver turned up the electronic dance music on the radio.

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The question floated through my head as I let myself drown in the moment.

“And what comes next?”

Truth be told, I had been fantasizing about this moment for five years, ever since Andi first recruited me to join her nonprofit board. She was smart, ambitious, persuasive, and attractive. She was about my age, and more intriguingly, for me, about my height. I’m 6’4″ and I’d never been with a woman my height. My marriage was on the rocks. My wife had agreed to an amicable divorce, but we were taking our time, planning to finalize it when our youngest daughter finished high school.

Meanwhile, I had gotten a small place across town, and I was actively looking around.

And Andi looked good.

Plus, she was touchy, in a good, warm way, which added frisson to every encounter. We were sitting in an outdoor café outside my office when we first met and she pitched me on her board. She touched my forearm and elbow while talking me into the challenge of turning around an important cultural institution in the city, a diamond that had been through a long rough patch, a seriously undervalued asset.

I like turnarounds. I like the challenge. The conditions seemed right for a reasonable chance at success. And turnarounds are such a great story. My life was in turnaround, too. And I wanted to think I had a reasonable chance at scoring again.

I agreed to join her board. And when we parted, Andi gave me a hug. Was it just a friendly hug? Maybe. But it was borderline, I thought, as she walked away.

She definitely pressed her tits against me, and her body fit into mine in a way that startled me and gave me an instant woody. And then it was over. She smiled and said she’d see me at my first board meeting in a month.

As she sauntered away, I thought about her splendidly shaped pendulous, but firm breasts, bigger than my wife’s or any woman I had been with, which had been on display in a sleek silk blouse, unbuttoned to reveal tempting smooth cleavage. I watched her long stride and couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to run my hand up those long legs. And how would it feel to be fucking a woman who was built like me?

Now I had a real hard-on. And I had to sit for a while and read the newspaper until it went down and I could go back to my office.

Ever since, I had been pretty sure she wanted it. But I’ve always been unsure about reading women, and probably too cautious my whole life. Blame it on respect. Or maybe I’m just a pussy.

And she seemed to act the same way with a lot of men, which left me confused and hesitant. The close warm hugs. Her tits rubbing against my chest. Casually or meaningfully? The kisses uncomfortably close to the mouth.

I was sorely tempted a few times ataşehir escort bayan when we were alone in her office to push her back against her desk and take her right right there. Or in the parking lot on the way back from a fundraising meeting to reach across and fondle her ample tits. Or following her up the ladder to inspect the roof of the organization’s historic headquarters downtown to reach up between those long legs. I was sure she was tempting me. Maybe, I thought. I was paralyzed.

“Down boy, this is a professional relationship,” I reminded myself. I was, in a very real, fiduciary and legal sense, her boss, as a member of her board. We ran in the same professional circles. I was afraid of any whiff of impropriety, conflict of interest, let alone sexual harassment.

Plus, she was married. She rarely talked about her husband, though she talked about her sons all the time. I wondered what he was like. I was intrigued that his name was John, too. That irked me. Then I met him. He was instantly forgettable. I wondered how he landed her. And that irked me more.

But by then I was well into a good, steady relationship, too, with a great woman I could see spending the rest of my life with. I was in love with Catrina. And I didn’t want to fuck that up. She was smart, fun, cool, we shared a lot of interests, and the sex was great, the best ever, in fact, over and over again. And, unbelievably, it kept getting better. She kept in shape. She had a great body. I loved everything about it. But she was shorter than me, as all of my girlfriends had been throughout my life.

And so I fantasized. There was no harm in that, I told myself. Especially when Andi casually rubbed her tits against my upper arms at a reception as she introduced me to city officials or donors, or against my chest when she kissed me goodbye on the cheek after a meeting, and the kiss slipped to the edge of our lips and then was gone.

I left the board after a three-year stint. We had turned the organization around and that was what had interested me. It was on a good, steady growth track. And Andi could take it from there. We still met from time-to-time when she was in town or I visited the city. We gossiped and I offered free advice, which may or may not have been worth any more than she paid for it. I always bought the drinks. She was still always touchy in the same friendly way. But tonight it had gone further.

We had toured a historic building her organization was thinking about buying. We talked about the structure of the building and the deal, and her strategy for expanding from the city into a new town. She seemed subdued, which was not a word anyone would usually ever associate with Andi.

“How are you doing otherwise?” I asked, as she sipped her red wine.

She looked at me with sad eyes. Her lips trembled. She dabbed at the corner of her eye.

“It’s been a really rough few months,” she said. “The boys are doing great.” She perked up and seemed ready to launch into her usual, overly enthusiastic litany of their accomplishments in high school, good grades, success in sports. She stopped. “But John and I…”

I let the silence linger. Andi new about my divorce and my new relationship.

“I don’t think I can go on,” she said.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I caught John having an affair. It was obvious. In our own house!” she cried. “He didn’t deny it. He’s begging for forgiveness. But I don’t think I can. It’s over.”

“It escort kadıköy may take a while,” she said. “We haven’t figured out what to do. The boys…”

“They don’t know,” she continued, shaking her head. “I haven’t asked John to move out, yet. I guess we’ll keep the house together until the young one has left for college in two years. I just don’t know what to do.”

I took her hands. “I’m so sorry. I know how painful this can be,” I said, looking in her eyes. “If you need a good lawyer, I’ve got one. She was great for the amicable separation we wanted. And we took a couple of years, too.”

She looked at me with tears in her eyes, and pulled me close for a hug that lingered. Then she leaned back.

“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

She lifted her glass to me and then drained it.

“I guess I better catch that flight.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s on the way home. We can share an Uber.”

And that’s how I found myself here, with my finger deep in her pussy, probing her G-spot, her luscious tit in my hand, her tongue in my mouth, as she squeezed my hand between her legs and rocked gently in the back of the car with the dance music playing.

We had just gotten into the back of the car. It was dark. We were underway with the city lights passing by in time to the music.

She leaned over. “Thank you,” she said. She gave me another hug. And then a kiss on the side of the mouth. But this time she moved to a full kiss on the lips and opened her mouth softly. Her lips enveloped mine, as her hand ran up the back of my head and pulled me close. I felt her tongue tentatively probe my lips. I opened my lips and let her in.

The next thing I knew we were deep into French kissing. She was a good kisser. It was the one other thing I missed with Catrina. She was OK at kissing, but not really into it as often as I would like. But Andi was into it, deeply. She wouldn’t let go.

“Andi,” I said, as my cock twitched.

“Shhhh,” she said, and pulled me back into the kiss.

It was then I let myself go and found her breast. It was unbelievable. Like something from a dream, full and heavy, soft and firm. It was bigger than I could hold in one hand. It had weight. Yet such grace. I felt her nipple harden under the layer of silk and lace. I squeezed it gently but firmly. She moaned into my mouth. My cock hardened.

The driver turned up the music.

Andi took my hand from her breast, while holding me in a deep ongoing kiss as she explored my mouth with her tongue and lips. She moved my hand down her torso between her long legs and up her skirt. I felt her firm thighs through her nylons, and then where the stockings ended, the cool flesh of her upper thighs. My cock jumped. She guided my hand up further to the moist heat between her legs. Her panties were wet. She held my hand there and rubbed it against her pussy.

My fingers trailed against the edge of her panties. I felt her swollen labia underneath the silken surface. She moaned into my mouth again.

I slipped my fingers under the edge of her panties and between her wet lips. She was so wet and slippery. My fingers glided between her labia. She felt delicious. I felt her clitoris hardening instantly as I reached the top and glided back down. It was then that my middle finger slipped easily deep into her. And she bucked and then pushed against my hand and the seat. And I gently thrummed her clitoris with my thumb. bostancı escort She squeezed my hand between her legs. I squeezed her nipple and fondled her breast in my other hand.

She moaned. The driver turned up the music.

And then she came suddenly, spasmodically, squeezing my hand between her legs, rocking violently against it, sucking my tongue into her mouth, silencing a scream.

“Oh my god,” she said, as she leaned back against the seat. “I’ve needed that for so long.”

We were approaching the terminal.

“Thank you,” she said, as she leaned over to hug me again.

It already felt a little more like all the other times: ambivalent. Professional? Friendly? Forward? Sexual? With Andi it had always been hard to tell, until just now.

And then she was back in business mode again. Except for one thing.

She reached down and squeezed my hard-on, which was stretching my pants uncomfortably.

“Next time?” she said with a sly smile.

The driver and I watched as her long legs carried her into the terminal. She turned to wave and was gone.

“Home now?” the driver asked.

“Yep,” I sighed and slumped in the backseat.

The rest of the trip was quick. We were there in fifteen minutes. I had time to smell her on my fingers and drink her in, imagine her body under mine, her long legs wrapped around my back. I rubbed the tip of my cock and felt the sticky wet spot of precum on my pants. And then we were home.

“Thank you,” I said, as the driver jumped out an opened the back door. I fumbled for my messenger bag and looked around to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything.

When I got out and stood up, the driver had a big grin on her face.

“If you ever need a private chauffeur, give me a call,” she said, handing me her card.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

I looked at her and then away embarrassed as I realized she was exactly another type that I had never had the good fortune to fuck, tall, too, but thin, in skinny jeans and boots, but boyish, nearly flat chested in a tight fitting button down shirt. And I wanted her, too, instantly, right there. I felt out of control.

“No worries,” she said. “I see a lot of stuff happen in the back seats of my rides. And, actually, that was just about the nicest ever. Women appreciate a man with a nice touch. Especially when she comes first.”

She glanced down quickly at where my pants stretched out in front of me, and the dark wet spot shined in the streetlight.

“Good night,” she said. “Just let me know if you ever need a ride.”

She hopped back behind the wheel and pulled away as I turned to the front door.

I let myself in as quietly as possible. I went to the bathroom and stripped.

My cock was still hard as a rock and slippery and sticky around the head. I rubbed it and thought of Andi, and my balls tightened and I got even harder. I could cum in an instant, I knew, but I worried about waking Catrina. And I didn’t really want to settle for masturbating right then. So I washed up, brushed my teeth, and tiptoed to bed.

I snuggled up to my girlfriend’s warm back and spooned her, reaching around to cup a breast.

“Mmmm,” she said. “Welcome home, baby.”

We were different sizes but we fit together perfectly, her body coiled inside of mine.

“What’s this?” she said sleepily, reaching back to grab my boner.

“Did you bring me a present?”

“Uhuh,” I grunted. “Just for you.”

“What have you thinking about?” she asked as she held it against her pussy and rubbed herself against it.

“You, baby,” I said. “I missed you. All day long.”

“You’re lying, pooky,” she teased, as she pushed back against me and my cock slipped inside her.

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Twist Me ~ Chapter 1

It’s everywhere. The pool of dark red liquid on the floor is spreading, multiplying. It’s on my feet, my skin, my hair . . . I can taste it, smell it, feel it covering me. I’m drowning in blood, suffocating in it.

No! Stop!

I want to scream, but I can’t draw in enough air. I want to move, but I’m restrained, tied in place, the ropes cutting into my skin as I struggle against them.

I can hear her screams, though. Inhuman shrieks of pain and agony that slice me open, leaving my mind as raw and mangled as her flesh.

He lifts the knife one last time, and the pool of blood turns into an ocean, the rip current sucking me in—

I wake up screaming his name, my sheets soaked through with cold sweat.

For a moment, I’m disoriented . . . and then I remember.

He will never come for me again.

Chapter 1

Eighteen Months Earlier

I’m seventeen years old when I first meet him.

Seventeen and crazy about Jake.

“Nora, come on, this is boring,” Leah says as we sit on the bleachers watching the game. Football. Something I know nothing about, but pretend I love because that’s where I see him. Out there on that field, practicing every day.

I’m not the only girl watching Jake, of course. He’s the quarterback and the hottest guy on the planet—or at least in the Chicago suburb of Oak Lawn, Illinois.

“It’s not boring,” I tell her. “Football is a lot of fun.”

Leah rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just go talk to him already. You’re not shy. Why don’t you just make him notice you?”

I shrug. Jake and I don’t run in the same circles. He’s

got cheerleaders climbing all over him, and I’ve been watching him long enough to know that he goes for tall blond girls, not short brunettes.

Besides, for now it’s kind of fun to just enjoy the attraction. And I know that’s what this feeling is. Lust. Hormones, pure and simple. I have no idea if I’ll like Jake as a person, but I certainly love how he looks without his shirt. Whenever he walks by, I feel my heart beating faster from excitement. I feel warm inside, and I want to squirm in my seat.

I also dream about him. Sexy dreams, sensual dreams, where he holds my hand, touches my face, kisses me. Our bodies touch, rub against each other. Our clothes come off.

I try to imagine what sex with Jake would be like.

Last year, when I was dating Rob, we nearly went all the way, but then I found out he slept with another girl at a party while drunk. He groveled profusely when I confronted him about it, but I couldn’t trust him again and we broke up. Now I’m much more careful about the guys I date, although I know not all of them are like Rob.

Jake might be, though. He’s just too popular not to be a player. Still, if there’s anybody I’d want to have my first time with, it’s definitely Jake.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Leah says. “Just us girls. We can go to Chicago, celebrate your birthday.”

“My birthday is not for another week,” I remind her, even though I know she’s got the date marked on her calendar.

“So what? We can get a head start.”

I grin. She’s always so eager to party. “I don’t know. What if they throw us out again? Those IDs are just not that good—”

“We’ll go to another place. It doesn’t have to be

Aristotle is by far the coolest club in the city. But Leah was right—there were others.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it. Let’s get a head start.”

Leah picks me up at 9 p.m.

She’s dressed for clubbing—dark skinny jeans, a sparkly black tube-top, and over-the-knee high-heeled boots. Her blond hair is perfectly smooth and straight, falling down her back like a highlighted waterfall.

In contrast, I’m still wearing my sneakers. My clubbing shoes I hide in the backpack that I intend to leave in Leah’s car. A thick sweater hides the sexy top I’m wearing. No makeup and my long brown hair in a ponytail.

I leave the house like that to avoid any suspicion. I tell my parents I’m going to hang out with Leah at a friend’s house. My mom smiles and tells me to have fun.

Now that I’m almost eighteen, I don’t have a curfew anymore. Well, I probably do, but it’s not a formal one. As long as I come home before my parents start freaking out—or at least if I let them know where I am—it’s all good.

Once I get into Leah’s car, I begin my transformation.

Off goes the thick sweater, revealing the slinky tank-top I have on underneath. I wore a push-up bra to maximize my somewhat-undersized assets. The bra straps are cleverly designed to look cute, so I’m not embarrassed to have them show. I don’t have cool boots like Leah’s, but I did manage to sneak out my nicest pair of black heels. They add about four inches to my height. I need every single one of those inches, so I put on the shoes.

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