When you’re talking to a cute girl, you shouldn’t just think she’s attractive, you should feel attracted to her on a physiological level.

Desire is contagious, if you feel it, the girl will feel it. And that underlying sexual feeling is the spark that makes seduction possible.

Without that feeling there is no reason for a girl to go on a date with you or to go home with you. She might have logically enjoyed your company, but unless she actually felt desire for you, it’s unlikely she will sleep with you.

This sounds obvious, yet few men effectively communicate their sexual desire to women. Ask yourself this: when you’re interacting with a woman you like, how often do you feel turned on?

Most men rarely experience raw lust for a woman, they only think they want her on a cognitive level. But there is no emotion behind it.

The difference between a guy who gets repeatedly friend-zoned and a guy who can effortlessly turn girls on is his own ability to experience desire for women in real life.

If you don’t feel sexual desire for the women you see in your real life, you’re missing the point of seduction.

(Obviously, feeling desire isn't the only factor important in creating sexual desire - your physical appearance, social status, outer game, etc. all play a role, but this is an important factor that men rarely consider.)

So, how do you actually do this?

You might be thinking that you should tell girls you find them attractive or that you should talk about sexual topics.

Neither of those things are necessary, and if anything, they can backfire (being so overt can make women feel uncomfortable unless you do it very tactfully).

There’s a better way. A way to project sexual energy without being creepy.

Instead of talking about sex on a verbal level, learn to cultivate your ability to experience sexual desire for women you find attractive.

In modern society, we learn to associate our sex drive with two things: porn and masturbation. We channel our sexual desire into pixels instead of into our real lives.

Through years of conditioning, we forget how to see real women as sexual beings. We know on a logical level that we want to have sex with beautiful women, but we don’t feel it on an emotional level when we see a hot girl walk by.

The following are three strategies you can use to undo the social conditioning that has taught you to be uncomfortable with your own sexual nature.

Eliminate Porn

Reality is dull compared to the fantasies porn allows you to vicariously live out.

Watching porn is a bad habit that does more harm than good.

Porn is extremely stimulating – it floods us explicit images and sounds.

When we become used to a high level of stimulus, we are no longer impacted by the regular beauty of the women we interact with in the real world.

A woman in a tight skirt isn’t exciting when you’re used to seeing fifteen different girls get naked in a compilation within 30 seconds.

But if you cut out porn, you’ll start to appreciate the natural sexuality of women in your day-to-day life. You no longer have access to this unrealistic fantasy world, so reality will become more viscerally appealing.

Change Your Focus

When you’re out approaching women, focus on the sexual side of the environment rather than the logical side of the environment.

What I mean is that when you see a girl walk by, there’s a difference between thinking, “She’s hot, I should talk to her,” and actually checking her out and appreciating how sexy she is.

Male sexuality gets shamed in modern culture. Partly ,this is necessary for society to function – if men were to fully embrace their sexual urges, nothing would get done.

However, it has gotten to a point that most of us are completely cut off from our sexual nature. We learn that checking out women is creepy and that wanting sex is perverted. We learn to associate getting a boner with shame rather than excitement.

All this coalesces into a state of mind where we are psychologically conditioned to avoid feeling anything sexual in the real world.

You can train yourself to break this conditioning: with your conscious intention, you can regain control of your own sexual desire.

This isn’t about being a perv or being creepy – don’t stare at women’s breasts. But when you see a cute girl walk by, let yourself appreciate her femininity, her beauty, her attractiveness.

It’s in your DNA to do this, you just have to put conscious effort into reclaiming this ability you were born with.

If you find this difficult, you can take it a step further: actually visualize sexual imagery when you’re out approaching women. Imagine yourself ripping a girl’s clothes off, imagine her naked, imagine what it would be like to throw her on a bed and fuck her brains out.

This will take some practice, but the results are so life-altering that the effort is worth it.

Once you make the shift from attempting to logically attract women, to emotionally seducing them, your life will never be the same.

Your interactions with women will be far more powerful, impactful, and enjoyable – not only for you, but for the girls you interact with too.

Don’t take this to mean that your game needs to be more direct. My verbal communication with women is actually extremely indirect. In terms of what I say, I show almost no sexual interest, if anything, I show disinterest.

But on an emotional level, there is a clear sexual ‘vibe’, it’s in the eye contact, my vocal tonality, and my overall demeanor.

If on a verbal level, you seem somewhat uninterested in a girl (https://redpilltheory.com/2018/08/15/how-to-tease-a-girl-and-spark-sexual-attraction/), but there is a clear sexual heat in your nonverbal communication, that will create sexual tension.

She can feel that you want her, but because your words imply the opposite, she’ll wonder what’s going to happen, “I’m attracted to this guy, but I can’t tell whether he really likes me or if he sees me as a friend.” Do it well, and the sexual tension will build up to a point that sex becomes a foregone conclusion.

Seduction is a process that starts with an emotion and eventually gets explained with logic. Unfortunately, most men are taught that dating is about making a girl logically think you’re a good option for her so that she will become attracted to you.

In dating, your primary focus should be on the emotions you’re making women experience, and the easiest place to start is with yourself: any feeling you experience will spread to others around you, sexual attraction is no exception.


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Lets get to the ACTION!

LisaLinny님의 주요 정보

성적 취향양성애자
신장5'4" - 5'6" [160cm- 170cm]
무게140 - 160 파운드 [60 - 70 킬로그램]
음모털 있음
가슴큰 사이즈
나를 흥분 시키는 것
Being treated with respect. If you are kind and generous to me, my juices will be flowing! And I will do everything I can to please you.
내 소개
I love sex! And I love money. So lets help each other out!
내 기분을 상하게 하는 것
Expecting me to give it to you for free! I am not here to give myself away. Begging me to do things and not tipping, will get you kicked out or banned. I have been a cam model for nearly 6 years, and I know there's always someone who wants a free ride. But you won't be getting that here. So don't waste my time or yours.

캠으로 우리가 하는 것

LisaLinny의 방송 업무 시간
월요일 휴무
화요일 휴무
수요일 오전 8:00 – 오후 12:00
목요일 휴무
금요일 휴무
토요일 휴무
일요일 휴무
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LisaLinny님의 위시리스트
100$ Amazon Gift Card
100$ Amazon Gift Card
Give your favorite model an Amazon Gift Card which never expires and can be redeemed towards lots of items on amazon.com! Make her feel happy with the most amazing online shopping ever.
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Lelo NEA™ 2 Deep Rose
Lelo NEA™ 2 Deep Rose
Show your favorite model true adoration with this wonderful lusciously designed vibrator! Make her orgasms become stronger and much more unforgettable with this strong and beautiful little erotic secret!
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Lelo GIGI™ 2 Pink
Lelo GIGI™ 2 Pink
This delicious sex toy is the best way to make your favorite model’s G-spot feel really happy and satisfied! Make her solo games totally euphoric with it’s curved and flattered tip that can easily beckon her to the land of pleasure!
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GoPro HERO6 Black
GoPro HERO6 Black
This cool device is sleeker, more compact, easier to control, and better connected than previous generation GoPro action cameras! Let your favorite models make adventurous clips and videos while traveling!
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댓글 (5)
18. 10. 27.
@}»---- Gorgeous eyes Lady
18. 10. 21.
my love Mom
18. 6. 23.
Amazing woman, fantastic boobs, definitely see her again!
18. 6. 12.
Like you so much
18. 5. 23.


tagAnalKeep Your Chin Up

Keep Your Chin Up

Amy, my gorgeous Amy, is helpless, her hands tied above her head. She follows my every movement with large, almost cartoon eyes.

I step closer, a brush of clothing, my hands hovering in the dip of her waist. I hear her soft breathing as her open mouth strains toward mine, mewling for the touch of lips. Her tongue glistens, waiting to dart out and meet me.

As I curve my fingers around the back of her slender neck, delving into her naturally red hair, boyish and cropped, she tilts her head back and rubs it catlike against my hand, eyes narrowing in pleasure, welcoming the caress.

"Please," she says, opening her eyes to find mine. "Kiss me."

I smile, shaking my head, stepping back, looking her over. From her bare feet to her skinny wrists, every inch makes me ache for her, my sexy ginger pixie. Her small tits are held tightly in her faded black Metallica T-shirt. With her hands held high, those firm mounds are emphasised and pushed out. The T-shirt's ridden up a little, exposing a strip of pale belly between T-shirt and skirt. Not that there's much belly to see, she's skinny, a little too skinny, but you try telling her that.

"Tie me up", she'd suggested, whispering in my ear while we were fooling around downstairs. So now she hangs, straining on tip toes in the narrow doorway, suspended from my dusty chin up bar, only used twice in a burst of get fit eagerness before being abandoned to the back of my wardrobe. Now suddenly that bar's got a new lease of life.

Her delicate wrists are strapped up in two of my rarely worn ties, interviews and funerals, these connected to a thick black belt, looped twice over the bar.

I lower my eyes to where her slender thighs disappear beneath her pleated brown mini skirt. She watches me as I look, and moves one foot a little to the side, parting those thighs a little more, a temptation I can't resist. I step forward, our close proximity making my heart beat harder. I lift her little skirt slowly upwards, exposing more skin, skin that's white as ever despite the warm summer and then hitch it right up, revealing the nakedness beneath, the flesh with a pinker tinge. I tuck the skirt into its waistband so it stays put. As I step back to take in the new view my cock twitches, trapped in my trousers, a wet patch of anticipation seeping into my boxer shorts

She opens her legs as much as her position will allow, which isn't far at all, and hangs her head to one side, resting it against her bicep, looking at me as if to say: Well here I am, what are you going to do now?

Peeking out from beneath her crumpled skirt, her blushing, naked pussy draws my eyes downwards and it's all I can do to stop myself falling to my knees to kiss her there. She's trimmed herself, Brazilian? I never know these days, a narrow strip of gingery hair on her mound points down to the puffy lips and crimson slit beneath.

Having never tied her up before, I'm running on instinct, and right now it's telling me that getting down on my knees and burying my face in her soft, damp folds would be far too easy.

I peel my T-shirt off and throw it to the floor. Stepping closer, I lift my hands to her wrists and take them delicately, my bare, slightly haired chest against the dark cotton that covers her breasts. Our mouths move intimately close, she moves forward to kiss, a brush of lips her only reward before I pull my head back, just enough to foil her plan.

"You're mean," she whines, only to be ignored, wriggling in her bonds, acting like a spoilt little girl denied her treat, her breath playing hot on my lips.

Ever so slowly I bring my hands down her arms, feather light fingertips leaving her shivering, all the while our eyes dance together, the energy between us beginning to really flow, sparking on our breath. Still her lips strain for mine. She moans.

My hands reach her T-shirt sleeves and slip lower still, dipping into the concavities of her armpits. She wriggles and tries to suppress ticklish giggles.

"Don't, don't!" she cries. I smile.

The T-shirt is Lycra tight around her slight curves, hugging her tits. As with her skirt I know she's naked beneath it, her tiny nipples fight for freedom, pressing against cotton.

I tease it upwards, revealing her belly then push my fingers into the warm space between skin and T-shirt, sliding up past her pierced belly, brushing the ring with my thumb, and then up her ribcage. I take her breasts in my hands, forcing the fabric to accommodate, my fingers spreading and curving over them, giving them a squeeze, her nipples grazing my palms. She whimpers and without thinking I'm kissing her, welcoming her eager tongue deep inside my mouth. The burning need in me rises, and I kiss her back harder, squeezing her tits with rough circles.

Pulling back, a little breathless but continuing to squeeze her firm mounds of flesh I see something shining in her eyes, like she's feeling a rush of victory after our kiss perhaps?

That won't do.

I release her breasts and with deliberate hard tugs, I yank her T-shirt upwards and over her head to the sound of her surprised yelps. Her small tits give a quick wobble as they're released, adding to the thrill I always get at the sight of her tiny pink nipples and the freckles scattered randomly across each breast as if from a flick of God's wrist.

For a moment, with her T-shirt over her head, she's blind, and the possibilities assault me from all directions. I stand back a full couple of paces, to think, and take in the view.

There are so many things I want to do it's hard to think clearly. She's a banquet laid out before me and I know everything tastes good. Generally when we fuck there's not much thought involved, passion and intensity yes, planning no. So having her tied like this forces me to slow down and consider different directions, make the most of this opportunity.

While I think, I can't help but reach out and trace circles around her tiny nipples, slowly zeroing in on the peak at their centre. I watch and feel them stiffen against my fingertips, it always amazes me to see their transformation. Muffled by the T-shirt, she murmurs softly.

This restraint was her fantasy, I decide to combine it with one of mine. It feels like a day where boundaries are more fluid than usual, so why not take advantage. An idea crystallises, and all other possibilities fade into the background. I grin, feeling myself growing at the thought, the need to fuck boiling over.

There are other things to do before that though, for a start her perfect little breasts are there for the taking. Holding her waist, I lower my mouth, flicking her tiny nipple with my stiff tongue until she whimpers loudly, twisting and pressing her breast against my open mouth, teeth grazing pale skin.

I feel hot and nervous with the nasty thoughts swimming inside me, and an excited tightness in my chest that I've not felt for a while, not since the first time. I move my mouth to her other nipple, flicking and wetting it while my thumb slides over the first one, now slick with my saliva. As I do so lurid thoughts play in the cinema of my mind, my hunger grows with each one, increasingly stifled by the cage of my jeans.

I give her tits one last lingering suckle and then release her. Making as much noise as I can, so she knows exactly what I'm doing, I unbuckle my belt, then open my button fly with one quick jerk. It always feels good to do it like that, the pop-pop-pop of buttons swiftly pulled from denim. If only she could see how cool I looked.

I smile to myself, slipping my jeans down my legs and pulling them free, my cock bulging from my tight shorts, a damp stain spreading at their peak.

Pushing my hand into the humidity of those shorts I wrap my fist tight around my shaft, marvelling at how damp and slippy I am. My shorts are soon gone, leaving me naked, slowly stroking myself as I eat her with my eyes. I feel a sense of power flowing into me, I'm in control now, and she can't even see, blinded by her T-shirt.

I step closer, she seems to sense me near, tensing at first then writhing like a slut, pushing her pelvis out at me, gyrating slowly, trying to tease me into action.

I brush her nipples again with gossamer fingers, eliciting a sweet moan. My mouth hovers near her ear.

"Would you like to know what I'm going to do to you?"

She nods her head ever so slightly in agreement.

"Tell me."

Delaying my revelation, I trail my hands down her front and release her skirt, pushing it down slender legs to her ankles, bringing her sharp hips into full view.

I have an urge to spin her around and view her beautiful and now bare bottom, but as strongly as the desire burns, I deny myself the pleasure of it right now, taking her cotton covered face in both hands and pulling it to me, the fabric stretched tight over her open mouth.

I kiss her covered nose, just a peck, leaving my mouth close as I speak, holding her head tight and still.

She grunts something in return, it sounds like an affirmation.

"Guess what I'm gonna do."

"Tell me," I hear the need in her voice. "Tell me."

I lift her T-shirt, exposing her lips and the tip of her nose, yet keeping her eyes covered. Those lips twitch into a smile, then that sweet mouth opens, tongue flicking out, searching for mine.

I kiss her, as I press my cock against her belly, my body finding a natural rhythm without thought, craving friction.

"It's something we've never done before."

"Uh huh."

I continue kissing her softly, my raging desire held back with a fragile thread, but the gravity between her legs won't be denied. I slide my hand down her belly, lower, teasing, getting close then backing off. Inevitably gravity wins and I follow that Velcro strip of bright pubes down and then delicately between her open thighs.

Amy gasps, a wonderful sound, as I brush the very tips of the short hair that carpets her folds, a mere suggestion of a caress, tracing the contour lines of her sex, touching without touching, letting her hair transmit the sensations from my fingers to her flesh.

She's whimpering by the time I allow my fingers to rise up against her, the tips finding her weeping entrance, almost sucked into her, such is the easy liquid slickness of her cunt.

"You're so fucking wet," I say, not sure if I've felt a flood quite like this before, amazed as my single digit follows its own path, easing between swollen lips, spreading her plentiful lube into more distant folds and crevices.

Her body melts onto my hand, her pelvis rocking, pushing her mound backwards and more insistently forward as my finger finds its own rhythm

"What are you going to do?" she asks between breaths.

I slide my finger to where her lips converge and her clit nestles in its flesh hood and start a little circular dance. Amy's panting and open mouthed and I speak into those gasps, our breath mixed together, my excitement rising as I think about what I'm about to say, and then do.

I lift my mouth to her fabric covered ear, kiss it, then say:

"We talked about it the other night, do you remember?"

She nods, almost in time to the gyrations of her hips.

"I think so." A whisper.

"You said you wanted to try it, someday, but you were a little scared."

"Ohh," I notice her movements change, slower now but intense, grinding against my hand, her breath deeper. "I think I'm still scared."

I move my hand, the heel of my palm against her clitoris, while my fingers reach down, seeking entrance into her. I push one, then two inside, parting her flesh, fingers sinking into the sodden heat of her as I whisper in her ear.

"But you want someday to be today don't you," a statement, not a question.

"Yesss." She replies, either in response to that statement, or the insistent penetration of my fingers, or more probably both.

"Its going to be today Amy, I'm going to do it today, right here."

She whimpers and I smother it with a kiss. The way she forces her tongue into my mouth, the hunger of it, tells me everything I need to know.

I want to see her face, to look her in her eyes so I lift her T-shirt right up, leaving it tangled up around her hands. Her face is flushed red, a little sweaty, her eyes wide, projecting her desire and fear into me. She looks impossibly beautiful.

I kiss her again, cradling her warm face in my hands. I can smell her rich scent on the fingers of one hand. I let my mouth wander, kissing her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, and then back to her almost desperate mouth. I replace my lips with my fingers, pushing two of them into her mouth, watching as she licks herself from them, sucking them past her lips and deep inside. Her eyes never leave mine until I pull my fingers from her mouth. Then she follows them down, watching as I trace lines to and around her breasts, circling each nipple before returning them between her legs.

She moans with relief as I re-enter her, my other hand reaching behind her head and grasping her hair, pulling her to me as I kiss her again, my tongue matching the rhythm of my deep thrusting fingers. We writhe with that motion, my cock leaving a wet trail against her hip as we grind in giddy anticipation of sweeter movements to come.

Something's building in me that demands release, I need to be moving inside her, I need that friction, that movement. Those lurid images returning to my mind, I can't wait any longer to move forward, to journey to those new places.

I break away from the kiss, and pull my fingers from inside her. Gravity, again, takes over and I have to kiss her again, and again, holding her against me. Finally I break away and step onto the new path. I nod, ever so slightly, caressing her face as I look in her eyes, and she nods back, a subtle dip of her head. Let's do this.

My mouth leads the way, kissing her chin, then underneath, her throat, her breasts, her ribcage, down and around. I move between her and the door frame into my bedroom beyond, eliciting a giggle along the way as I kiss her underarm.

The downy hair at the back of her neck draws my mouth, and the soft touch of my mouth draws a contented sigh from hers.

"That's lovely," she murmurs and pushes back against me, the head of my cock - wet with lust, lightly resting in the crease of her behind as she moves against it.

I follow the trail of her spine with my tongue, holding her narrow waist as I sink ever lower until I'm kneeling behind her, my mouth finding the end of the path, where her body splits in two.

Her heavenly buttocks are right there, I tenderly kiss the middle of each one, my breath thick with lust then bring my hands down to them, squeezing and kneading the round globes as she wiggles her behind at me, tempting me, pleading without words, encouraging with her sighs and whimpers.

I dig my fingers into her muscle and pull her cheeks apart, I see the target, her neat little brown hole, the wrinkles pointing inwards the centre, disappearing inside her.

Amy pushes back, offering herself to me and I lean forward to meet her. I feel her tense up a little in anticipation, my own heart stilled in my chest as I close the final distance with my outstretched tongue.

"Ohh, ohh, God." She moans, as the tip of my tongue finds the centre of that little hole.

I feel so filthy, my head buzzing with it, swirling with the essential wrongness of this, and the urge to go deeper.

"Ohh that's good," she says, pushing back against my probing tongue. I press a little harder against her willing arse, thrilled at her response.

My hands are wrapped around her thighs, giving purchase as I allow myself to sink into the moment, her moans drift down from above, driving me onwards. My head spins as I feel her opening for me, and without hesitation I push within.

Amy moans, a delicious, wanton sound, her bottom writhing against my tongue. She says:

"You dirty bastard,"

"You dirrrty..."

Oh that feels...."

Her words slip away, replaced by soft whimpers of pleasure, music playing in my ears as my tongue stabs into her anus, again and again. I slide my hands up her legs, and find her desire has breached the dam, a slippery flood of it trickling down her thighs.

God this feels wonderful, and I want more, I want the next step. I pull my tongue away and guide two fingers between her legs. She shudders, crying out with need and presses down, chasing my hand as much as her bindings will allow as I gather some natural lube on my fingers. Unable to resist the penetration, I invade her, pushing deep into her heat, feeling her clench and spasm around my thrusting digits. I return my mouth to her anus, kissing it as I finger fuck her, pushing my tongue back in again, preparing the ground again for the invasion of my fingers.

I ease her cheeks apart again, looking straight into the bull's-eye and tickle that tight little pucker with one fingertip. I twist it, circling, dipping in then out like a marble rolling around a bowl, teasing her, teasing me, the tension rising.

Amy shifts on her feet, getting comfortable, then shudders as I press against, and ever so slowly, into her. She looks down over her shoulder at me, straining her neck to see. I look up at her, holding her bewildered gaze as my finger disappears inside her, past the tight muscle, into the cavity beyond.

She opens her mouth as if to speak, but instead releases a low moan as I slowly withdraw my finger again, leaving just the first knuckle inside.

"Go steady," she urges, a little breathless.

I nod up at her and lower my mouth, giving her buttock a little kiss to reassure. Slower this time I ease my finger back into her, marvelling at these new sensations, the heat of her innards, the soft, slick walls and the occasional pulsing of her anus against my invading finger.

I'm going steady, slowly easing my finger in and out of her, and I feel her tension releasing, allowing me easier access. Amy begins to writhe again, and so I go a little less steady, twisting my finger as I move it. She moans her appreciation and I go further, easing another finger into her heat, stretching her further.

Again she stiffens, and I slow everything down, but not for long, the relaxation coming quicker, her moans a little louder from above.

I lick the fingers of my free hand and bring it up between her legs, finding and playing with her clit, her response instant.

"Oh God, do me Dave, do me, do me, do..."

I watch as her arsehole swallows my fingers each time I push them into her pulsating hole, twisting them deeply in and out in time to her urgings.

"Do me, do me, do me, please do me"

Reality's been slowly catching up with them, but those lurid images return, the last act playing in my brain, and demanding to be acted out. I find it hard to believe my cock will fit, but there's a rage inside me that insists I find out.

With one last, slow withdrawal and a gasp from Amy, I pull my fingers from within her bottom and stand up, legs stiff. I slide my hands around her waist and pull her close, nuzzling into her neck, she turns her head, craning for a kiss and our mouths meet, a slow thrusting of tongues. I feel her chest rising and falling, her whole body seems to be quivering slightly.

"Do you want me to?" I ask, then kiss her again. She may be tied up and helpless, but I need that last green light. Her mouth pauses against mine for a long heartbeat and then she nods, returning her tongue to mine, pushing it deep into my mouth.

"Yes," she says, pulling back from the kiss. "Just do it before I chicken out."

I nod and kiss her again, giving her a little squeeze.

"I'll just get some stuff."

I back off and step into the bedroom behind us, heading straight for the drawer where I keep the little silver packets and other things.

I return with a packet and a bottle. I tear the packet open and throw it spinning like a Frisbee past her and into the hallway. She tries to look back over her shoulder as I put it on, rolling the tight ring of latex down over my rock hard shaft that stands like a totem. I always enjoy this moment, this little ritual before fucking, having always done it it's never felt like a chore, and it doesn't now, instead it steadily heightens my anticipation.

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6 definitions by mofuka

The process in which a man and a woman engage in the act of intercourse only in this case, the penis is inserted into the anus hole, causing more pleasure for the male and at first a slight discomfort for the woman if no lubricant is used.
"Yo, A-time?"

"Yo I A-timed that bitchnania"

"Hello it's nice to meet you, you in for some A-time later?"
от mofuka 05 януари 2005
The process of woman stroking a mans penis, causing pleasure. But, on those cold lonely nights one has no other choice but to give himself some H-time, H obviously standing for hand.

See other "times"
>A-time=anal
>P-time=pussy
>M-time=mouth
"....nah all it was, was a little H-time"

"Yo, she didn't know how to handle the H-time so i had to instruct her"

"Yo it was shat, I was so unsatisfied with her preformance i smacked her in the face then H-timed it in her face"
от mofuka 06 януари 2005
A slang term used by a group of teenagers, representing the process of intercourse. The "P" representing "pussy" another slang term for the vagina. P-time simply means the act of a man(or in odd situations a woman whom happens to have a penis) placing their penis in the vagina, for the age old act of sexual intercourse.
"May i interest you in P-time?"

"I would very much enjoy some P-time right now"

"Yo man....did you?....P-time???"
от mofuka 06 януариот mofuka 06 януари 2005
When a lady friend is sucking a man's penis and u end her life by choking her with your penis.You then finish her off by busting in her throught making her last breaths horrible for her, leaving her doomed to walk through the afterlife with semen in her mouth and throat.
"I gave her her Final Judgment"
от mofuka 18 януари 2005
One of the happiest times in many of the lives of men. Its is when a man uses a womans mouth as a pleasure hole. The woman sucks the penis until it is drained of semen and then hopefully swallowed.
"Please tell me you at least got sum M-time!"

"May you please give me some quick
M-time, im cold."

"Normally I'm all in for M-time, but this is just one of those rare instances where one must say 'naw man'"
от mofuka 06 януари 2005

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The man was a little buzzed, but not as much as the two women. They seemed fine in the club, dancing, laughing, talking loud to hear one another above the music. But when the three of them stepped out into the mild night on the way to the car, they were both a little loopier than he realized, one on either side of him, each clutching an arm and taking small, careful steps, punctuated by the occasional wobble. Of course, they started way ahead of him. He saw the wine glasses on the kitchen counter when he got home from work. They were already a little giggly and goofy by the time the three of them got to the restaurant where they had dinner. More wine there, and then onto the club, where they’d all had at least two or three Patrons.

When they got to the car, Alison, his wife, told her friend Kathryn to ride up front with him. You can see better from up there, she told her.

“What is there to see?” said Dale. “It’s dark out.”

“She can see the city at night,” said Alison. “She’s never seen it at night.”

“She’s only going to see it for five minutes,” said Dale. “Then we’ll be on the highway.”

But Alison had already climbed into the back of the sedan and stretched out along the seat, prying off one shoe with the toe of another.

Kathryn was Alison’s best friend from California. That’s how Alison always referred to her: “my best friend from California,” as if to distinguish her from best friends from other states or geographical regions, Dale guessed. Until just recently, Dale and Alison had lived in California themselves. They’d moved out there several years before for new tech jobs. Kathryn took an internship at Alison’s company, and that’s where they met and hit it off.

Kathryn was twelve years younger than Alison. This past spring, Dale and Alison relocated back east, and now Kathryn was out to visit for a week before she went back for her senior year at San Jose State. Kathryn was a native Californian who had never been farther east than Modesto, she said. She couldn’t believe “how green everything was” out here. She was okay, still a bit of a wildass college chick, which is why, Dale figured, Alison latched onto her. Reliving something or other. On Kathryn’s second night in town, Alison took her to the bachelorette party of one of her and Dale’s old college friends, and they both came back completely shitfaced. Someone at the party used Alison’s phone to set up an Uber pickup for them, then texted Dale a head’s up. The Uber driver who brought them home honked her horn in the driveway a few times until Dale came out.

“They need a little help,” she said.

Dale hauled Kathryn, the larger of the two, out of the car and the Uber driver helped Alison.

The driver said, “That one got sick, so I’d set her up with a bucket if I were you,” meaning Kathryn.

“Shit,” said Dale. “In your car?”

“No,” said the woman. “This one saw it coming and had me pull over, managed to get her head out the door.”

Dale navigated the several city blocks that took him to the boulevard, then picked up the ramp to the bridge that would take them through the outbound tunnel.

“There it is,” he said. “The city at night. Get a good look.” But Kathryn had her head back against the seat and her eyes closed. He glanced quickly to the back where Alison was stretched out asleep already. Couple of lightweights. Now they were in the tunnel, where the overhead lamps bathed the interior with a yellowy glow.

“You’re not going to get sick, are you?” said Dale. “Because you’re going to have to do it out the window until I get through this tunnel. There’s no place to pull over.”

He glanced again at Kathryn who now seemed to be awake, her heavy-lidded gaze fixed on him. She was attractive in a healthy, athletic, California kind of way. She was a big girl, almost as tall as Dale. Not heavy, but strong-looking, with big tits that he was pretty sure were natural. A lot of wavy blond hair. Tonight she was wearing a loose-knit sleeveless sweater—he could see the beige of her bra through the wide weave—and pale gray, flat-front trousers, tight around the ass and thighs and pegged at the bottom. She looked good.

When they emerged from the tunnel, onto the highway, and regained the darkness, he felt Kathryn’s hand on the inside of his thigh. He turned to look at her again, and she leaned across the console to try to kiss him. He pulled back and looked toward the road.

“Whoa,” he said quietly. “Driving here.” He didn’t remove her hand, though.

Dale wasn’t a saint anymore. He and Alison married a dozen years ago, right out of college, but after the first couple of years Dale started wondering if he had given the relationship the proper amount of time and thought. He liked that Alison was smart—very smart, smarter than him—and down-to-earth, and still liked to tear things up and have a good time. He’d just never really been crazy about her like he’d been about some other women. But that was one of the reasons he thought casino oyna marrying her was a good idea. Crazy wears off. Then what do you do? If there was no crazy, then things would always kind of stay more or less the way there already were.

Dale managed to behave himself until the last couple of California years. He was out with people from work one night, someone’s going-away celebration. After dinner, at the bar, he made a beeline for the empty seat next to a girl named Kristina, one of the company’s corporate recruiters. He didn’t really have much interaction with her at the office, but he knew her. Hell, everyone knew her; she was sensational, sexy as hell. Dark complexioned—some kind of middle eastern descent—she was long and lean, with straight black hair and big wet eyes. She was wearing knee-high suede boots and a short, tartan plaid skirt over black tights, and a black, sleeveless knit turtleneck. She had an empty glass beside her and was thumbing over her phone, tapping and swiping.

“What’s the average length of time a guy manages to stay in this seat before you tell him to leave you the fuck alone,” said Dale. He probably shouldn’t have said “fuck” but he wanted to get her attention, wasn’t sure if he could tear her away from her phone.

It worked. She looked up at him, and there was what he thought a little flicker of pleased recognition. Then she went back to texting again, but smiling now.

“Don’t know,” she said to her phone. “No one ever talks to me.”

All these nerdy computer guys. Most of them couldn’t manage an intelligible sentence in front of their own sisters, let alone someone who looked like Kristina, cool and dark.

“You’re out of their league,” he said.

“But not yours?”

“Oh, mine too,” he said. “But I’ve just had a couple drinks and I don’t give a shit.”

She clapped her phone screen-side down on the bar and slid her empty glass slightly toward him, like she was moving a chess piece.

“Maybe if I have a couple more myself I won’t give a shit either,” she said.

And hour later they were out in the parking lot, her back against the side of his car, Dale close up against her. Her black tights were pulled down her thighs halfway between the hem of her skirt and the tops of her boots. Her sweater and the cups of her bra were pushed up high on her chest, and she held the back of Dale’s head as he sucked on her round, coffee-colored tits and finger-fucked her. She’d unzipped him and wrangled his cock from his trousers and had it in her other hand, just holding it tight, squeezing it. She gave it a couple distracted strokes now and then but was concentrating mostly on her own approaching orgasm, and that was okay. He pumped in and out of her. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head away from her breast when she started to come, twisting and bucking against him, as he held two fingers buried up to the last knuckle in her cunt.

He slowly withdrew his fingers from her when she was done. She let go of him long enough to pull down her bra and shirt to cover herself. He tried to somehow bend his erection back into his open fly but she took it again before he could and this time started jerking it quickly and steadily. They were looking down, watching her hand stroking his stiff dick, both of them breathing hard. Dale leaned forward, pressed his forehead against the top of her head, grunted.

“Shoot it,” she whispered. Dale began to pump out his load onto her bare thigh. She slowed her strokes, squeezing him gently. Watching the thick jizz spurting from his cock. He looked down. His streams of white cum seemed almost to glow against the deep brown of her skin.

So that was the start of that.

The morning after the bachelorette party, Dale drove Alison back to get her car while Kathryn stayed behind sleeping it off. Alison was wearing dark glasses even though the morning was overcast. Probably to hide the dark circles under her eyes.

“I should have just driven you guys and picked you up myself,” said Dale, but not in a scolding way. Just as a matter of fact. He wasn’t trying to give her shit; he knew she felt like walking death.

Alison said, “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine and the next… Everything just got suddenly very rowdy and wild once the dancers showed up.”

“More than one?”

“Three,” said Alison. “A policeman, a cowboy, and a sailor.”

“The maid of honor friends with the Village People?”

“All these women start screaming, doing shots. I just hope the bride-to-be is not pissed at me.”

“Why would she be? You said she was hammered too. You said a bunch of them were.”

“Yeah,” said Alison. “But Kathryn… She was a bit of an instigator. Calling for shots. Dancing and grinding up against the strippers. I think she might have encouraged the shedding of inhibitions a little bit.”

“Those college girls,” said Dale.

Alison was quiet for a couple minutes, then said, “Kathryn’s grinding up against the canlı casino one who was dressed as a cop. Except now he was only wearing a hat and mirrored sunglasses and this G-string. He’s thrusting his hips, you know, and that pouch with his junk is swinging back and forth. And she just drops, yanks his pouch down, and starts sucking his dick.”

“Holy shit,” said Dale.

“Yeah, really,” said Alison. “You should have heard how the volume level went up at that. But there were a couple bridesmaids, I think they were from the groom’s side, they looked extremely uncomfortable to begin with. But that business thoroughly scandalized them.”

“So Kathryn, did she…?”

“You could tell the guy, the dancer I mean, you could tell he kind of thought about it for a second. But then he pushed her away and tucked himself back in, wagged his finger at her, like ‘naughty, naughty.'”

“Huh,” said Dale. “Maybe he was gay.”

“He wasn’t gay,” said Alison. “Or maybe he was, I don’t know. The point is, you’re not allowed to touch the dancers. Not their junk. They’ll let you get away with a slap on the ass here and there. But after seeing Kathryn get that guy’s dick out, some of the other women tried to get a little ‘naughty naughty’ themselves. The whole thing got a little raunchy.”

“I thought that’s what happened at bachelorette parties,” said Dale. “Bring in some choice cuts for the bride to have a little forbidden snack before she takes her vows. The lusty ladies all get to have a taste.”

“You watch too much Internet porn,” said Alison.

Kathryn moved her hand up to Dale’s crotch and began squeezing his cock through his trousers. How far are we going to go with this, thought Dale. He adjusted the mirror to see Alison in the back seat. She was out. She probably wouldn’t wake up until they got home and someone shook her out of it. Unless he bulls-eyed a monster pothole or had to jam on the brakes and stop short for a deer running in front of him. Shit, he thought, that could cause a whole series of problems. Forget about Alison waking up and taking in the situation; he could be maimed for life as well. No, he didn’t want to run into a deer or try to evade one while this drunken college chick had his cock in her mouth. He was hard, though, imagining her blond head bobbing in his lap, her big tits pressing against this thigh. Thinking about it since Alison told him the bachelorette party story. He hadn’t had a blowjob since he’d moved away from California, and the idea of getting one from his horny college girl who probably wouldn’t fucking remember it the next day even when she still had the taste of his cum in her mouth… Jesus. She was leaning over him now, trying to find the tab of his zipper, hair falling across his lap. Her friend, his wife, less than a foot away. Kathryn was just one of those chicks who got horny when she was lit. He took her hand away, gently pushed her back upright. “Not here,” he said.

The two men eased the flat screen television from its wall mount and placed it carefully on the floor. As they stood up, they both heard it at the same time and froze.

The taller one, in a black long sleeve t-shirt and black jeans, pulled his mask down over his head: a rubberized Batman cowl that he bought at a costume shop, covering his eyes and the bridge of his nose. The shorter man, Erik, wearing a lightweight black hoodie and black Dickies work pants, pulled down his mask too, just a plain black eye mask like Robin wore on the old TV series.

Of course this caused a problem. They were both supposed to have the same black eye mask. They talked about it. Erik told the taller man, Bobby, to get two simple black eye masks. “But not that cheap shit plastic kind that little kids get with their Halloween costumes.” The plastic edges on those things cut at your skin, and the elastic always broke after you looked at it, like, three times. Told him to get something more durable and comfortable. Bobby wanted to get some kind of full head coverings, like those caricature masks of former presidents.

“That’s been done,” said Erik.

“Yeah, but it kind of freaks people out when they see it.”

“The point is not being seen, ever,” said Erik. “Masks are just a precaution. Besides, those things are rubber. Do you know hot it gets in there? And you can’t see shit, the eyeholes aren’t big enough, you got no peripheral vision. This is cooler, just plain black masks. Like the Lone Ranger. Zorro.”

Bobby nodded. Erik could tell he was thinking it over. “Or like The Incredibles,” he said.

“There you go,” said Erik.

Bobby came back from the costume store with a shopping bag.

“Check this out,” he turned his back to Erik, bent over, then stood up and turned around wearing the cowl.

“That’s not what I told you to get, Bobby.”

“I know, but this is cooler.”

“Where’s mine?”

Bobby pulled a black nylon eye mask from the bag and tossed it to him.

“What the fuck?”

“That’s kaçak casino what you told me to get.”

“For both of us, yeah,” said Erik. “So what am I supposed to be, Robin? You’re Batman and I’m Robin?”

“We can’t both be Batman,” said Bobby. “You can’t have two Batmen.”

“So why do you get to be Batman?”

“I don’t know, I just figured. You know, I’m taller.”

“Fine,” said Erik. “You be Batman. Then when someone spots you and the cops go around to all the costume stores asking did anyone buy a Batman mask recently, good luck with keeping your secret identity.”

But nobody had seen them yet, not on any of their first five jobs—or “excursions,” as Bobby called them. Now they stood there in the darkened living room, masks down, listening, and there… there it was, they heard it again, like someone moaning. To their left was a doorway leading into a dining room. They moved carefully in the darkness to the doorway, staying close to the wall, and looked in.

Across the dining room, opposite them, was another doorway with glass-paned French doors, opened in, that let on to a kitchen. Someone was in there. There was a light on, but a dim one, like from a range hood or open refrigerator door. Erik touched Bobby’s arm and they both stepped quietly into the dining room, staying back far enough that they were still in darkness, to get a better look.

Now they could see that there were two people, a man and a woman. The man had his back against the kitchen island. He was wearing a bathrobe and it was open. The woman was naked, or seemed to be. She might have had panties on, Erik couldn’t tell for sure in this light. A big blonde woman with lots of wavy hair and a pair of large tits that the guy was fondling and sucking while she stroked his hard cock that was sticking straight up between them. The guy was murmuring and sighing and making little gasps of pleasure while the woman seemed mostly silent, even as the guy sucked and mauled those big tits.

“Jesus,” whispered Erik.

“Why are they doing it in the kitchen?” whispered Bobby.

“I don’t know,” whispered Erik. “Maybe for a little variety. You know, mix things up.”

“It’s pretty hot,” breathed Bobby. Erik looked over and saw his partner with his hand on his crotch. He nudged him.

“Cut that out, you’re giving me the creeps,” he whispered.

They both stood there in their masks and black clothes, unseen, watching. The man in the robe finally took a break from the great bounty of tits and the woman immediately lowered herself to her knees and started sucking his cock. The man stretched his arms out along the island and began pumping his hips slightly. The woman bobbed steadily, workmanlike.

“What do we do?” Bobby whispered. Erik glanced at him and held up a finger, one sec. He was thinking. They came in through the patio, which was off the kitchen, so they weren’t going back out that way. Folks being occupied as they were, they could probably go out the front without being heard, the front porch light most likely on a switch rather than a motion sensor. Just turn that off and walk out with the flat screen and the canvas bag and hope that some neighbor coming home late didn’t swing around the corner right at that moment and strafe them with headlights. Whoa, look at that, honey, the Dynamic Duo rescuing a 60″ flat screen. The canvas bag had a bunch of other goodies they found downstairs, mostly electronics: two Bose Wave stereos, a couple-three other wireless speakers, a couple of tablets they found in a home office. The usual stuff. Plenty of room in the bag for a few more things.

Dale got everyone home without incident and without any more advances from Kathryn. He followed the two women up the stairs, both of them seeming more sleepy than drunk now. Kathryn looked a little confused when they reached the top of the steps, like she was trying to remember where the guest room was. Dale and Alison continued down the hall to the master.

Alison made straight for the master bath and Dale went into their large walk-in closet. He stripped, hung up his pants and sport coat, tossed everything else into a laundry hamper, and put on his bathrobe. When he came out, Alison was already asleep atop the bed in a white t-shirt and panties, curled up on her side, her clothes in a pile on the floor. Dale looked at her. He’d half-hoped that getting ready for bed had awakened her enough that he might be able to convince her to have sex. That would have taken care of things for him. So much for that.

The light was still on in the master bath. He left it on and closed the bathroom door. Then he left the bedroom, closed that door behind him, and walked along the carpeted hallway until he got to the door of the guest bedroom. He couldn’t tell if a light was on in there. He leaned close to the door and listened. It was quiet. She was probably passed out on her bed like Alison. Should he tap on the door? If she was awake she’d open it. But what if she’d changed her mind by now, sobered up enough to think better of it? What did he want? He could ask her if she was feeling okay and did she need anything, like a bucket. He could say he was going downstairs for a little nightcap and did she want one.

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As I mentioned in my previous article, I come from the first generation where Internet pornography entered our homes with staggering regularity. The pattern of pornography use has shown no sign of slowing down. As Belinda Luscombe writes in her Time article “Porn and the Threat to Vitality,” an “independent Web-tracking company” totaled the number of U.S. visitors to porn sites at around 58 million monthly in February 2006. Then, “Ten years later…the number was 107 million.” That is 107 million visitors a month in the U.S. alone!

This amount of consumption, along with the church’s notorious silence around the topic of sexuality, has distorted my own sexual development and that of millions of young men and women who grew up engrossed in a pornified society. The consequences have been dire and are just starting to come to the surface, as addicted millennials have begun to marry and attempt to attain healthy relationships.

One of the chief consequences is the development of a Pornographic Style of Relating (PSR). This style of relating is most learned when pornography becomes your primary teacher or guide in your sexual development. We learn certain ways of being, and then those ways are unconsciously lived out in relationship. I will briefly discuss six ways of living out of a PSR, and also examine what those categories look like when they are restored in healthy relationship.

This style of relating is most learned when pornography becomes your primary teacher or guide in your sexual development.

The first category of a Pornographic Style of Relating is that of control—rooted in being the only one in the dynamic, which is a non-mutual relationship alone with imagery. When you are by yourself masturbating to images, there is no one else to satisfy, no one else to consider, and you get to control the entire scene. The set-up, the romance, the rituals, the climax are in your power. This creates an innate selfishness and an unconscious desire for absolute control over intimate relationship. In a redeemed sexuality, this category is that of freedom, rooted in a maturity and security of both partners, allowing each to choose to come and go and know the inherent goodness of the other.

The second category of a Pornographic Style of Relating is objectification. The addict, over the years, is looking at thousands upon thousands of images; those bodies become seared into our brains over time, and we become desensitized (Kühn, Simone & Gallinat, 2014). Research has also revealed that “our brain’s dopamine receptors shrink in response to chronic overstimulation” (Kenny, Voren & Johnson, 2013). In pornography, the unknown bodies have no names or stories and have become means to an end, serving only the purpose of attaining orgasm. After they no longer serve a purpose, they are cheaply discarded. This pornographic development leads to dehumanizing sexual behavior and non-positive views of women (Bridges, 2010), and causes those with PSR to chronically jump from relationship to relationship (just like clicking from pornographic image to pornographic image), looking for perfection and completion to be found in a person. This category of objectification restored becomes the category of honor. The partner is respected for their entire being; their voice, opinions, preferences all matter, and equal weight is given to both parties. When the imago Dei is recognized in the face of the other, honor is sure to follow.

When the imago Dei is recognized in the face of the other, honor is sure to follow.

The third category of a Pornographic Style of Relating is speed. The rapid pace of relationships comes to resemble the quick climax of intensity around pornography, the rush and thrill of not getting exposed, an urgency for consummation, and ultimately an abrupt and inevitable ending (normally with shame attached). These traits are opposite to sustaining long-lasting intimacy. The speed of relationship normally involves high emotional and sexual linking without the proper time to grow them deeply, and other areas of relationship such as intellectual and spiritual connections are neglected or completely forgotten. The redeemed trait of this category is gradual—a slow build. A strong foundation of balanced intimacy, growth, tears, laughter, pain, and joy shared together. You grow in love, not accidentally fall in it. These are the things your grandmother taught you, and they could not be more true—or in more opposition to a PSR.

The fourth category of a Pornographic Style of Relating is hunger. There is a frantic need that must be filled by the other. This cavernous need consumes and devours both partners in an attempt to mend something broken inside. This category shows itself in co-dependent relationships, where both parties become enmeshed and no individuation can be found. The hunger drives them to consume—rather than delight in—the other. This category of hunger redeemed is desire. Desire is a healthy longing and genuine want of the whole other, not a desperation to fulfill. A litmus test you can try when considering a relationship or when you want to know if you are acting out a PSR would be to recite this sentence, “I want you, but I do not need you to be okay.” If you can confidently say that you will be hurt and disappointed, but ultimately “okay” without the other, you are living out of desire and not misguided famine. At that point they no longer define who you are but only what you long for.

Opening your heart to another is an invitation to the real you, what you simultaneously most fear and most long to attain.

The fifth category of a Pornographic Style of Relating is isolation. We learn our sexuality behind closed doors, and in the dim light of the computer screen our sexuality remains hidden, even from ourselves. We come to protect this isolation as some type of sacred space, and even the thought of inviting another human in feels threatening and disruptive. The isolation fuels the secret life and separates us from the loving relationships that we most need. Redeemed isolation is the category of communion. This communion is a shared open bond with another person, vulnerably allowing the other into the most guarded territory of your sexuality. Opening your heart to another is an invitation to the real you, what you simultaneously most fear and most long to attain.

The sixth and final category is that of fantasy. Fantasy is an escape from what is real. Whether it be difficult emotions, such as stress, anxiety, or depression, or just the pain that genuine relationship inevitably brings, fantasy relieves those struggles for a moment. While healthy relationships live in the truth, pornography helps bolster a life of fantasy that is difficult to undo. Fantasy brings relief but does not bring restoration. The redeemed of this category is authenticity. For relationships to remain thriving and true, both partners must be committed to voicing complaints, hopes, and desires, and living into what is most true. When one partner is still living out of a PSR, there is little to no chance that the couple can tackle what needs to addressed in the relationship.

My hope is that, whether you yourself are an addict or you are attempting to be in relationship with one, these categories can bring an awareness and empower you toward action, ultimately owning your part in how you relate to the world and beginning the process of transformation that you were most meant for.

Bridges, A (2010). “Pornography’s Effects on Interpersonal Relationships,” in The

Social Costs of Pornography, edited by James R. Stoner Jr. and Donna M. Hughes, 89–110. Princeton, New Jersey: Witherspoon Institute, 2010.

Kenny, Voren, and Johnson (2013). “Dopamine D2 Receptors and Striatopallidal Transmission in Addiction and Obesity.” Current Opinion in Neurobiology 23, no. 4 (2013): 535–538.)

Kühn, Simone and Gallinat (2014). “Brain Structure and Functional Connectivity Associated with Pornography Consumption: The Brain on Porn.” JAMA Psychiatry (2014): 827–34.

Luscombe, B. (2016, March 31). Porn and the Threat to Virility. Retrieved September 20, 2016, from http://time.com/4277510/porn-and-the-threat-to-virility/


Looking for a tatted-up alt babe thicker than molasses? Then check out fresh-faced hottie Payton Preslee! Formerly an alt-model under the moniker Ivy Rose, Payton decided to turn her focus to one of her true loves: orgasms. With big tits, a bigger ass, dark hair, and gorgeous blue eyes, you'll have a hard time looking away from this pierced hottie. When she isn't entertaining her fans on set, Payton spends her time interacting with them on the internet while watching old movies on TV. Payton supports local music by going to as many shows as she can, and you can support her by checking out Payton Preslee in the scenes below!

( Hiện chưa có phim của diễn viên này )


tagLoving WivesFran Johnson Ch. 06

Fran Johnson Ch. 06

When my alarm went off the next morning, Bill was already up and gone to his office. The day before slowly came back to me as I lay in bed, clearing the sleepy cobwebs from my head. I remembered sunbathing on our private deck, exposing myself to our 20 year-old neighbor, Trevor. I remembered asking him to put the suntan lotion on me, and feeling his warm hands running all over my body until they found the warm, wet place in the center of me. I remembered having a hard orgasm as he fingered me, and then stroking Trevor's huge cock until he shot gobs and gobs of sperm all over my hands, arms, and tummy. And I remembered asking my husband, Bill, when Trevor would be coming back to do more gardening.

Friday! Only two days away, now. I was torn, though. On one hand, I couldn't wait for the thrill of showing off my body to Trevor again. I couldn't wait to be rewarded with his gentle touch. I couldn't wait to have another orgasm as powerful and addicting as the one I had, and if truth be told, I couldn't wait to see that giant penis of his again; to get my hands around it, to feel it pulse as it squirted copious amounts of white, gooey semen. On the other hand, I was married and it was very improper of me to be doing such things. But then again, my husband had not only condoned it, but had urged me on towards it. Oh, fiddle! It was all so confusing!

I got up and readied myself for work, and had an uneventful day at the store. I couldn't get Trevor's huge thing out of my mind, and I was distracted all day. One of my co-workers even asked if I was alright. When work was over, I made a quick stop at the grocery store to pick up something to make for dinner, and when I drove down the street, I saw that Trevor was in his driveway, playing basketball with a couple of other young men. He had his shirt off, and I could see his lean, muscled body. I got a little shiver, and drove on past his house and turned into our driveway. I hadn't needed to see that!

I brewed some tea and sat in the living room to wait for Bill to get home. I needed to talk to him about what had happened the day before. I needed some guidance from him about where this all was going. Soon I heard his car pull into the driveway, and then saw him as he walked past the window to the front door.

I stood and greeted him with a kiss when he entered. I told him that we really needed to talk. We sat together on the couch, and I just poured out my feelings. I was really worried about all the things that were happening. I was afraid that our marriage would be irreparably damaged by my unfaithfulness. I almost told him about my afternoon with Father Mick, but thought better of it. I told him that I loved him, and even though I had enjoyed myself with Trevor, and that part of me wanted to do it again, it was more important to me that our marriage remain strong. I began to cry.

Bill listened, letting me pour my heart out until I was finished. Then he very simply told me that he loved me, that he wanted me to be happy, and that me being made happy by Trevor made him happy. He said that if we love each other, and we are both being made happy, what can be wrong? He explained that our marriage would always come first, but that it was time to have fun and cut loose before we got too old. That made me afraid; I didn't want him to cut loose and be with someone else, and I told him so.

He responded by telling me that he had no desire to be with anyone else; it was his desire for me to be with someone else and for him to watch and be with me afterwards. It was all so confusing to me. Bill told me that he wanted to be cuckolded. When I asked him what a that was, he told me he'd show me some websites on the internet later that would explain it, but that it was kind of like the movie we had seen where the husbands watched their wives have sex with other men, then licked them clean afterwards.

I moved over and hugged Bill, and told him again how much I loved him. After a moment, he asked me if I was going to sunbathe again on Friday.

"If you want me to, I will," I told him, looking down at my lap. Secretly, I was hoping he would want me to.

"I do want you to," he replied. "And I want you to enjoy yourself with Trevor. As much as you like. I'll tell him he didn't get much done last time, and I want him to go finish what he started in the private garden."

I felt elated. Bill had eased my mind about what I had done with Trevor, and I was excited by the prospect of getting to do it again.

"But I won't let him go all the way with me, Bill." I looked him right in the eye. "That's only for you." He smiled and patted my hand.

"Whatever you feel comfortable with is okay with me, sweetie," he said. I got up and started dinner, excited for Friday. Later that night, Bill showed me websites that explained about cuckolding: how the wife would humiliate the husband by taking a lover right in front of him, comparing the good loving she was getting from the lover to the pathetic efforts by the husband. Bill explained that for some reason, he wanted to be cuckolded. He said the idea of it was thrilling to him. We read stories together about wives cuckolding their husbands with younger men, black men, all with big penises. Bill started fooling around with me, and I was pretty excited about what we had read. told him he could screw me with his little penis. We did it right on the floor by the computer, and I told him he was so small I couldn't feel a thing. He loved it, and I actually enjoyed saying it as well, even though it wasn't true. It actually felt quite good with his small penis.

The hours in the next day went by agonizingly slowly. All I could think about was Trevor, Trevor, Trevor! I felt like a young schoolgirl, excited for a first date. Bill made love to me that night again with his small little penis. While he was doing it to me, I was telling him that Trevor was much bigger than he was, and that Trevor's cock could fill me up like his never could. This got Bill really excited and he shot his small load of sperm in me, then immediately went down and started licking me. Remembering the stories we had read, I told him that he'd better get down there and clean Trevor's sperm up and give me an orgasm with his tongue, because he sure couldn't give me one with his tiny little dick. This really made Bill go crazy, and he licked and sucked everything out of me while I ground my vagina against his face. I had a nice little orgasm, then told him to make sure he got everything. I wanted to be nice and clean for Trevor the next day.

I got up extra early, and took a shower, shaving myself down there. I even douched, afraid that I might be a bit smelly from Bill the night before. I asked Bill what time Trevor was starting this afternoon, and he told me that he'd be there about 1:00. Plenty of time for us to get home from work just after noon and get into position.

The minutes dragged by all day at work, and right at noon I rushed out to my car to drive home. I was getting nervous, and as soon as I got home, I went pee, then washed myself down there again. I made sure I was still nice and smooth from the shaving I gave myself in the morning. Bill came home and caught me in the bathroom checking myself. He wanted to feel it, too, but I told him, no. I didn't want it to get dirty before Trevor played with it.

About a quarter to one, I made my way out to the private deck. Bill was waiting out in the garage for Trevor to show up. He'd tell Trevor to go work again on the private garden, and that he had to run into town for a while and then leave in his car. He'd park around the block, and once Trevor was in place, sneak back into the house and upstairs to the window to watch.

I took off my robe and laid the towel down on my chaise. I had brought an extra hand towel for Trevor's mess, and laid it on the other chaise with the sunscreen next to it. I put on a good songlist on my iPod and laid down on the chaise, as naked as the day I was born. I tried to read, but I was way too excited. I just closed my eyes and lay there waiting. I told myself that I wouldn't let it go too far. I just wanted to get my hands on that giant cock again, and that would be it. We would pleasure each other with our hands, and that was enough. I could feel my vagina kind of tingling with excitement. Tom Petty sang "The waiting is the hardest part". He didn't know how hard it was.

Then I heard the back gate open, and soon Trevor walked into view. He was wearing only a pair of cut-off jeans and sandals, and didn't look at all surprised to see me there. I think he was probably expecting it. His tanned muscular torso shone in the sunlight.

"Hi Mrs. J," he said brightly. "Lookin' good today!" I thanked him, and he stood for a moment looking at my body. I put my book down and looked back at him. He didn't look away, he just kept looking at me. Our eyes locked, and we both knew why we were there.

"Is there something you want?" I asked. "Don't you have work to do?" He didn't say anything, just swallowed and kept looking at me.

"Is it lemonade you want?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Is it soda pop you want?" I asked again. Again, he shook his head no.

"Is it this you want?" I asked, and I spread my legs wide, showing him everything. I had become so naughty!

He nodded.

"Not until you get some work done," I told him. I wanted this to last, and I knew that Bill probably wasn't upstairs yet. "You can look, but you need to earn what Mr. Johnson is paying you. Then maybe I'll reward you." I couldn't believe how sassy I was being.

Trevor shrugged his shoulders, and simply said, "Okay," and started in to work, trimming the heavy shrubbery that surrounded the garden. I pretended to read my book and he pretended to work, but I couldn't concentrate and he couldn't take his eyes off me. I shifted on the chaise often, opening and closing my legs. I brushed my fingertips across my breasts from time to time. When I knew he was looking, I let my legs fall way apart, and reached down and played lightly with the lips of my vagina.

"Trevor," I called to him. "I don't think its fair that I have no clothes on, and you do. Don't you think you should take those shorts off?" He turned and faced me, unsnapped his shorts, pulled the zipper down, and stepped out of them. His large penis was already hard and sprang to attention. "Okay, back to work, young man!"

I watched his naked muscular body as he went about his chores. The muscles in his butt were spectacular as he moved around. I let my hand drift back down to my vagina and began playing with myself again. I was very wet. Trevor went about his work, turning in profile to me. I could see his penis, sticking straight out, bobbing up and down as he did his chores. Oh, how I wanted to get my hands around that monster! He would look at me from time to time, see my hand caressing the lips of my vagina, and he would grab hold of his penis and rub it gently up and down a couple of times. I thought that Bill must be having a fit upstairs, watching Trevor and I tease each other.

Finally, I couldn't take it any more. ""Trevor," I said. "I need you to put some sunscreen on me. Would you mind?"

He came right over and I told him the sunscreen was on the other chaise lounge. He picked it up and sat down on the chaise, his young hard penis pointing right at me.

"I think I need some on my breasts," I told him. "They don't get a lot of sun, and I'm afraid they'll burn." He squirted some lotion on his hand, and leaning forward, began to rub it into my breasts. My nipples were erect, and it felt wonderful as he gently massaged my breasts with the lotion. He began to run his thumb over each of my nipples, first one, then the other. I told him that it felt good when he did that. He continued to run his thumbs over my nipples and I turned my head and looked at his beautiful penis. It was hard, and pointing right at me. I reached out and gently took it in my hand. It felt wonderful. So much bigger than Bill's.

"Now pinch my nipples gently, please," I cooed. He pinched my right nipple very lightly and it felt exquisite. Then he did my left. I began softly stroking his penis, letting my fingertips lightly tickle the sides of it, up and down.

"Pull on them just a little when you pinch them," I asked. He complied by pinching while gently pulling on my nipples. It felt unbelievably wonderful. I gave his giant cock a squeeze and felt it twitch in my hand.

"Now roll my nipples between your fingers," I told him, beginning to pant. Again, he complied by gently rolling first one, then the other nipple between his fingers.

Now you can go back and forth between doing all those. I gave his huge penis a tug and closed my eyes as Trevor tried all his new tricks on my breasts. It felt heavenly.

"Trevor," I said after a while of his glorious treatment of my breasts. "I'm afraid my hips and tummy will get burned where my suit usually is. Why don't you put some sunscreen on down there. You really did quite a good job on my breasts. That felt very, very good."

Again, he squirted more sunscreen on his hands and began to rub it onto my lower tummy, just above the tuft of my pubic hair, and down the fronts of my legs. I was dripping with anticipation of a replay of a few days earlier. I looked over at his rock-hard penis, and began giving it little tugs as he began rubbing the lotion on my inner thighs. His balls were full and round, tight against his body. Again, I spread my legs apart to give him access to my waiting vagina. And again, he would rub right up to it, but not quite on it.

"Trevor," I asked. "Please don't tease me anymore. I need you to touch me there." He ran his hand up the inside of my leg, and this time didn't stop when he got to my vulva. He gently ran his fingers up the outside lips and then slipped a finger right down the middle and into my slippery hole.

"Mmm," I murmured, as I felt his finger slide right into me. I lightly tickled his balls as he pleasured me with his finger.

"Trevor, take your finger and run it up to the top of my..." I paused. "My cunt." There I said it out loud. He did what I asked.

"Do you feel that hard little spot there?" I asked. He answered yes, he did.

"That's my....." I paused again. "My clit." He found the exact spot. "That's where it feels really, really good on a woman. We like to have that spot paid attention to." He began rubbing little circles around my clit. It felt so, so good.

"And if you reach over with your other hand, and pull the skin up right above it, it will pop right out." I spread my legs and began moving my hips in time to his ministrations. He was a very good student, and he took his other hand, pulled up the hood, and applied direct contact to my clit.

"Not too much at first, Trevor, " I counseled. "Start very lightly and work your way up to it. And you can put your finger back in me from time to time; that feels really good, too.". My pussy was very wet, and what Trevor was doing to me was making it wetter. I suddenly remembered Bill upstairs, and said in a voice loud enough for him to hear, "God, Trevor. Your cock is so much bigger than my husband's." I thought Bill would like to hear that as he was being cuckolded. "And you rub my pussy so much better than my husband does," I added for good measure.

I closed my eyes and lightly stroked him as I enjoyed the sensations he was giving me. He leaned over and began sucking the nipple closest to him.

"Oh," I said as I felt him suck my nipple into his mouth and gently bite it. What he was doing to me down there was feeling incredible. 'A little faster now, Trev," I instructed. He picked up the pace on my clit, giving it more direct contact. Every once in a while he would plunge a finger into me and I would gasp. Then he plunged two fingers into me and I groaned and pushed back against him. He took over rubbing my clit with the thumb of the hand pulling up the hood and continued to plunge two fingers in and out of me while sucking on my breasts. I let go of his penis as I felt my orgasm approaching.

"Oh, yes, Trevor," I cried out, loud enough for Bill to hear. "I'm going to come! I'm going to come! Don't stop!" My orgasm crashed over me, and again I held Trevor's fingers in my pussy while I spasmed against them, I came long and hard again, feeling so excited by the entire scenario. He lifted his mouth from my breast and looked at me closely.

"That felt very good, Trevor. You make me come so hard," I said as I gave him a smile. "I lost something, though, where did it go?" I groped around as if I couldn't find his penis. When I finally laid my hand on it, I said, "Oh, there it is."

I turned towards him. "Lay back on the chaise," I told him. He laid back and his erect cock was sticking up in the air. It was amazingly huge. It was as big around as a large cucumber, and had to be at least 10 inches long. I took it in my hand again and began lovingly stroking it. It felt so good, and so big, and so hard. I cupped his balls in my left hand while my right made the long journey up and down his shaft. He reached over and pinched one of my nipples.

"Mrs. J.?" he said, as if it were we question.

"Yes, Trevor?", I answered.

"Would you........" he stopped.

"Would I what, Trevor?" I asked.

"You know, Mrs. J.," he answered. "Would you, like, lick it and suck it?" I hadn't realized how badly I had wanted to do that until he asked. So as my husband watched from upstairs, I put the folded towel down on the deck, and kneeled by the side of the chaise with my knees on it. I took Trevor's massive cock in my hand, and leaning my head over, kissed the very tip of it. I took the mushroom head into my mouth, and began to suck and kiss and lick his hard cock. He played with my nipples as I got more and more into it.

I couldn't get much in my mouth, but I got it nice and wet with my spit and used my hand to stroke it up and down as I kissed, licked, and sucked the head into my mouth. I gave him a few licks down the underside, and twirled my tongue on the sensitive spot that Bill had shown me on his.

I usually didn't really enjoy doing this very much, but with Trevor it was different. He was so big and so hard, and he tasted so good. I was losing myself in sucking his cock, as if there was nothing else in the world: just his cock and my mouth and hand. I picked up the pace with my hand, and was passionately kissing and sucking on the tip. I was really stroking him now, and had the entire head of his penis in my mouth, sucking and moving my mouth up and down on the head while my hand worked like a piston up and down his hard shaft. My whole world became his cock, and I could feel him fucking my mouth, pushing it in and out between my lips as my tongue wildly licked every inch of him I could get in. He pumped harder, my hand went faster, and then he did it. He sprayed a giant load of his cum into my mouth. I felt the first spurt, and rather than pull away as I usually would have, I swallowed and pumped for more. There was another blast onto the back of my throat, and again I swallowed and pumped him up and down, trying to get more of his warm white sperm in my mouth. I was insane with passion as I milked every bit of cum out of him and greedily lapped it up. As soon as he was done, I wanted more. For the first time, I enjoyed giving a blowjob, and enjoyed tasting a man's cum.

I sat back on my chaise lounge, still horny, still feeling a need. I watched Trevor's cock begin to shrink as his erection subsided after his orgasm. I picked up the towel and wiped my mouth, then wiped up little bits of sperm and spit that had fallen onto Trevor. I leaned back down and gave his cock one more little kiss.

"Will Mr. J. be home soon? Maybe I ought to get back to work before he gets here," Trevor said, suddenly feeling nervous.

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Ψάξε όποια λέξη θες, όπως cunt:
1. Synonym for awesome.

2. A female sexual preference for other females, often used as a descriptive noun, that sexually arouses most males. For the male gender, this produces a utopian state, where everything is seen as perfect. However, a closer look reveals that the utopia is only an illusion, for the lesbian female is completely disinterested in sexual intercourse with the male.
1. Dude, this video game is totally lesbian.

2. I would totally bang that lesbian.
από kenman884 10 Ιούλιος 2008
Lesbians (Other known as Vagina Warriors) have vagina swords that cut off the penis of the enemy straight man. These Vagina Warriors cut off the penis and use it as a sacrifice to their vagina god, Clitoris. The lesbians enjoy watching such things like The L Word, Ellen, The View, etc. They enjoy long walks on the beach, cutting penises off, wearing leather, eating rocks, and yoga.

--Written by a bisexual woman in heat.
από Tizzylocomotion 23 Δεκέμβριος 2010
A woman who is attracted to other women. Usually born this way but some actually change from straight to lesbian or were bi all along.
Jake: Did you hear about that Vitale kid?

Luke: I heard his girlfriend left him for a lesbian.

Jake: Wow... was he that bad in bed?

Luke: She told me he couldnt satisfy her so she had to turn to a woman.

Jake: LMFAO.. He was such a loser she preferred a woman to him.
από AaTm 27 Δεκέμβριος 2007
a female who is attarcted to other females.
laura and kim were at the bar and they started talking and they told each other that they were lesbians and once they found out they made out deep throat and ate each others pussy like they have never ate before. (.Y.).. YUMMY!
από LESBIAN LOVER 18 Ιούλιος 2012
1) One from the Island of Lesbos, in Greece.

2) Female Homosexual.
Word derived from a Greek poet who was from the Island of Lesbos (thus the word Lesbian). Her poetry expressed her sexual feelings towards young girls.
Bob: What she's lesbian? I feel sorry for her children...

Fred: What children?
από Fenikkusu 12 Μάιοςαπό Duh Trooph 27 Μάρτιος 2013
a girl who licks pussy and tits
i like tits,,im a lesbian
από 93969396 26 Ιούλιος 2009


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