Sex and the Summer Job Ch. 01

"Tell me anyway."

"The short version. Way back when I was getting divorced, I had my first real affair with a woman. She was one of my best friends, and we had big plans to be a couple when my divorce went through – she's the one I meant when I said good friends don't always make good lovers. Anyway, she thought a shaved..." She hesitated, the words alien to her now that we weren't in the heat of passion.

"Cunt, pussy, twat," I smiled. "You don't have to be afraid of those words. They're sexy when used right."

"Cunt," she said finally. "She thought a shaved cunt was a big turn on. She talked me into letting her shave me. I was surprised, but I liked it. I liked how it felt to have my panties chafe me when I walked around, or how a puff of a breeze felt going under my skirt. Besides, I liked how it looked, and even better, I was surprised at how much more there was to feel during sex when there wasn't any hair to get in the way. After we split up, I let it grow back, but about a month ago, I decided to try it again."

"I'm glad you did," I said, snuggling up to her. I slipped my hand between her legs and gave her a light stroke. "It was a very pleasant surprise."

"Well then," she said, shifting to face me, "maybe something good came from that relationship after all."

We snuggled closer and silently contemplated each other for a moment. We came together in a kiss, still drinking each other in and marveling at the wonder of our discovery. She ran her hand through my hair while she nuzzled her tongue into my mouth. I traced my fingers over the silky contours of her body, feeling like a little girl on Christmas morning, suddenly faced with an amazing bounty of presents under the tree and not knowing where to start. We kissed without hurry, yet there was a restlessness to our coupling, a need to explore and savor each other. There was no one else in the world I wanted to be with at that moment, and I again had the exhilarating thought that she would never take me for granted.

I caressed my nails up Karen's sides, then over her delectable breasts. She shivered and groaned with delight, pushing her chest out. Her nipples came instantly erect, and I used both hands to cup and squeeze her, delighting in the firm yet pliant heft of her tits. I tugged and rolled her nipples, making her gasp and moan with greater urgency. We played tag with our tongues, both of us making soft sounds of lust. We were still sitting up, growing more contorted by the second. I've never felt sex should be a gymnastic competition; it's about the passion and the pleasure, not the positions. "Come," I said, "stretch out a little so I can get at this gorgeous body of yours."

We untangled and I helped Karen scoot her bottom down the bed enough that she could splay her legs out. Her eyes were wide, with an almost amazed look of anticipation. "How's this?" she said, an edge in her voice.

I knelt at her side, sliding my palm up and down her tummy, drinking her in. "Perfect," I said. I leaned over, my hair spilling around our faces, and looked her in the eye. "Now I can fuck you properly," I promised, glaring at her. "All I want you to do is let it happen, don't hold back anything."

She closed her eyes, arched her back and moaned, "Ooooohhhhh yesssss."

She held my face in her hands and raised her head to kiss me as she drew back her knees and opened her legs for me, while I kneaded her lower tummy. I slid my hand over her sleek cunt, and she opened wider. Straightening up so I could watch her, I started rubbing her cunt with purpose. I ran my hand up and down her slit, and she was already wet enough to squish under my fingers. Her body undulated, and she moaned and whimpered as I worked her cunt with my fingers. I dipped my middle finger into her vagina, still amazed at how tight she was. "Your cunt in so beautiful," I murmured. "Beautiful and wet and so fucking hot!" I pulled my hand out and brought it to her mouth. "Taste," I said, and she licked and sucked my fingers. I dipped back down to freshen the coating of nectar on my fingers and I smeared it on her lips and chin before letting her suck them into her mouth. "See how good you taste?" I quickly darted my hand back down to stroke and caress her again. "I love how your gorgeous, beautiful cunt is soooo wet."

Karen's body twisted and rocked in constant motion now, and she crooned and quavered with every breath. I used my whole hand on her, squeezing and kneading her, making her squish. I rolled my fingers over her clit, pressing and tweaking on her firm pearl and making her gasp and jump. I slipped two fingers into her cunt and explored her inside, working her into a froth before slipping out and rubbing her fast, then slow and firm.

Watching her respond to my touch left me completely enthralled. Her passion wasn't as frantic as it had been down on the sofa, but it was no less intense. Her body moved in fluid gyrations, dancing to the mixed rhythm of my probing hand and her own inner symphony. Her hands were restless, fluttering from her breasts to her head to her legs. Whenever her pelvis quivered, she would let out a tremulous groan, and then fall back into singing the song of her pleasure. I brought her to the edge of full orgasm, skidding right up to the point of no return, then slowing down before she could tumble over. I had two fingers probing inside her while I nudged and massaged her clit with my thumb. I delighted in the intricate bumps and crannies of her vagina, careful to avoid giving too much attention to those magical inner spots that would send her into orbit. Oh yes, I thought, I could find that spot and make her explode, but not now. There would be plenty of time for that later. There were so many things I wanted to do to her, so many sensations I wanted her to experience, but I knew I had to take my time and avoid overwhelming her. I could bring her to paradise in so many ways, but, like the little girl at Christmas, I had to be patient and enjoy giving her each new pleasure in its own time. There was no need to try to everything at once.

I used both hands to fuck her now, working the fingers of one hand inside her cunt, and the other to massage her clit. Now it was time to bring her over the edge. Her moans became cries and gasps, and her body arched and spasmed in a series of sharp, intense orgasms. I instinctively slowed my strokes, easing her down, but I still coaxed a few final surges from her. At last, I moved up to her, one hand still gently caressing her cunt, and she looked up at me, biting her lower lip and lowering her eyes in a demure smile. "You're beautiful when you cum," I whispered, kissing her cheeks and her chin and then her lips.

"I've never cum so hard before, I didn't know I could."

"All it took was the right woman," I said with a teasing smile.

We shared playful kisses while she caught her breath. "You are definitely the right woman," she murmured into my mouth. She suddenly grabbed my arms and kissed me with something like the desperation she'd shown back at Periwinkle's. Her eyes took on a strangely fearful expression. She held me in a tight embrace as though I'd fly away if she loosened her arms, and when she drew in a breath, it sounded like a sob.

She caught me completely off guard. "What's the matter?" I said, looking at her with a puzzled smiling frown.

"What do you mean?" she said in a small voice, looking away. "Nothing's the matter."

"Bull shit," I scoffed, trying to be playful. "Something just got into you. What's the matter?"

She looked up, studying me, and I could see she was weighing whether or not she should answer me. She had the same pained look on her face she'd had earlier. "I don't know," she sighed. "It's like the clock is going to strike twelve, and you're going to disappear, and I'm going to wake up alone again, and you have no idea how right you were when you said all it took was the right woman. I'm just afraid this night is going to end."

I didn't answer her for a minute, afraid to give her some glib, phony reply. At last I brushed her hair back, looked into her eyes, and simply said, "I'm not going anywhere. If all I wanted to do was fuck you and go on my merry little way, I'd have done you back at the restaurant. I don't mean to be so crude, but that's as plain as I can make it."

She searched my face, trying to judge whether I was in fact being glib. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I don't mean to be so insecure, but I can't help it. I haven't exactly been lucky when it comes to relationships, and when someone comes along like you, someone who makes me feel the way you do, I can't help expecting the other shoe to drop."

I caressed her face and smiled at her. I'd known from the start that I was entering waters that were, for me, totally uncharted, and I had no idea which way the winds and currents were going to lead, but I wanted to find out. "I know it's scary, it is for me, too, but you have to know you make me feel the same way. I want to be with you and see where we can go together. You know what I want you to do?"

"I want you to stay home from the restaurant tomorrow...today, whatever it is. I want us to spend the day together, relax, and enjoy ourselves. OK?"

Karen chuckled ruefully. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had a day off? But then, I haven't had a reason for one in ages."

"My point exactly. You've earned one, especially now. You can get Richard to cover for you."

The fear was fading from her eyes, replaced by a wistful look. "Yes, I'll do it. He's wanted to run the place. It'll give him a little taste of what it's all about. I'll call him in the morning."

"Morning. What time is it now?"

She glanced at her watch and laughed. "Four thirty. I haven't been up this late in months! But then, I never had any reason."

I snuggled closer to her. "Maybe we should get under the covers and cuddle and try to sleep."

"Is that what you want?"

"Uh huh. As long as you're next to me. Then when we wake up, you better watch out, 'cause I'm going to take you places and make you feels things you never even imagined existed."

Her breathing had quickened again. "I believe you."

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Alan had gone to massage therapists for several years. He was a workaholic who brought worry upon himself, and while others might bring their tension in their stomachs, he carried his in his body. His muscles typically were a ball of tension that even his foam roller in the house could not work out. He hated their question nearly as much as the phrase that every masseuse he had ever had said to him after a massage: How do you feel? Sir, do you prefer a lady or a guy? the receptionist on the other end of the phone repeated. If he stated he chose a man, did that mean he was sexist? If he stated he chose a lady, did it indicate he was a creep who discovered some thing sexually sensual in his deep-tissue massages? Did it indicate he was a fool who anticipated a pleased ending?

No preference, is what he typically said. Often, he would include, Whoever is best at unwinding muscles. Alan shocked himself today when he informed the receptionist, A female, please. Where did that originated from? he questioned. After work, he struck the gym, showered, then drove to the massage parlour. He had forgotten his weird reaction over the phone until now, sitting in the waiting space, he heard a sweet, delicately sexy voice call out, Alan? Alan looked up from his publication to find her; small yet well proportioned, her consistent scrubs didn't hide the truth that she kept herself fit. Her eyes were almond-shaped, her hair black, and her skin the colour of caramel. I'm Ally. I'll be your therapist today, she stated. If she were tasting each word like each syllable were a caramel, it sounded as. Her voice, alone, excited him. He shook her hand, and her skin was baby-soft.

Alan was Ally's last client of the day. She was glad when she saw his personal health seemed to be great and that he had good skin. And when she shook his strong hand and looked into his baby blue eyes, butterflies fluttered in her chest and the hair stood on the back of her neck. Ally led Alan to Room 5. She asked him to undress and lay face-down on the table. She left the room, giving him privacy to crawl and disrobe under the sheet. With his head in the massage table's cradle, his eyes closed, Alan's world escaped into darkness. Alan enjoyed this aspect of the massage; his other senses almost vanish, leaving him with an acute awareness of his body and its feelings. He discovered it to be deeply meditative. However when he heard the door to Room 5 open, the soft footsteps of Ally returning in, his heart began to beat quicker. Unusual, Alan thought. He was expected to melt, deeper into dreamlike relaxation.

He could smell Ally: flowers, or strawberries? Alan could not be sure. The aroma was sweet and mild. Ally stood near the table, dimming the lights, rubbing oil into her hands. Alan could feel her heat on him. Enshrouded in his dark, lightless world, he envisioned her heat as subtle waves of orange that brushed his neck, shoulders, and cheeks. Alan could not assist but envision Ally's tight, round ass inches from his head, his face just as near to her pubis. As Ally worked for her hands over Alan's muscular back, (bringing him a smooth, relaxing enjoyment that straight contradicted the stimulation that had started in his loins), she saw she could smell him. It was simply him and it was more appealing than anything Alan might have ever stated. Ally was highly drawn in to her client. She smiled to herself as she accepted that fact, and she discharged a quiet chuckle. Alan heard it. Slightly scratchy, even her laugh seemed like tasting something scrumptious. The sound covered itself around him and Alan believed, I am outrageously smitten by this masseuse.

As she worked his body, her hands worked as her eyes. Getting rid of a little bit of the sheet to work his lower back and gluts, the butt s of her palms traced the powerful figure she attracted her mind. Later, as her thumbs dug into his calves, hamstrings, and inner-thighs, she pictured the pieces as a whole, standing, naked, in a well-lit place. She liked what her hands informed. Alan attempted to envision a more complete photo of the body attached to the hands that worked on him. The heat Ally gave off supplied an unrefined type of sonar in his pitch-black world.

When she worked his upper back, she leaned forward, digging into him with her elbow. He might gauge the length of her upper arm, and he imagined the perky breasts that hung simply above his spinal column. When Ally rested on a stool near his head and began to knead his neck, he pictured her strong shoulders rolling forward with each stroke. He pictured her not in the nurse's scrubs that she wore, however in a deep-necked top that hung off one shoulder, exposing the line of her clavicle. In his mind, he saw a bead of sweat meander down her neck before following the collar bone to her sternum. Scoot down for me, Alan, she whispered, and turn onto your back. When he had actually moved, and she let the sheet back down, she and Alan discovered it at the same time. Alan was completely set up. It lifted the sheet, comically, like a tent. Alan was extremely ashamed, his cheeks flushing with colour. He refused to open his eyes to attempt to make out Ally's response. He didn't understand what to state. Then, he heard her leave, to the corner of the space. He heard of masseuses who put a stack of towels on a customer's groin in circumstances like these. Possibly that's what she will do, he hoped. Before she stepped away, Ally had frozen. Listed below her, Alan's dick grabbed her through the sheet, through the dim light. With any other client, she would have been appalled, disgusted. She would have begrudgingly completed the massage, keeping her range from his crotch. At this minute, with Alan, the perched sheet brought her enjoyment and shortness of breath. She desired Alan. She discovered that, for the first time in her life, without kissing, with no foreplay to prepare her, she was ready to have sex.

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The reason I am urging you to concentrate on developing a connection by looking for points you both have in usual, also if not straight so, is that it provides you the chance to hand out some details concerning yourself as well, as opposed to simply concentrating on her.

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I asked, half- hoping for the answer to be yes but somewhat upset. I was more concerned about Sylvester getting into trouble than anything. Imagine if he got caught beating up Joseph? What will Joseph's mommy do to Sylvester? What would the mother of Sylvester do to Sylvester? Can we simply start a Hatfield- McCoy design family feud?

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Power illusion Women frequently have the illusion that care, and sincerity, she'll have the ability to alter the man. Therefore most women will consider it an interesting challenge worth since they have a character of nurturing experiencing. The good guys don't have to be nurtured so they would rather fall in love with the bad guys in order to change him.

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Whenyou're not up mountains or sprinting across lines that are completing triumphantly, what activities do you like? This has a tendency! That's what the lady wishes to hear, obviously. Really? I believe this is our Romeo's attempt. Please do not do this. Yes, we know you'll research quaint Povungnituk Québec scabies prostitutes and create a spontaneous purchaseat'Sofaland', but that is where the spontaneity stops. The trouble here is what exactly are you going to do if you've exhausted the choices that are above? You're likely to be stuck looking for the romantic setting that is next, and failing miserably. Beaches and heels are not a safe online dating site Povungnituk combination, although we don't need poetic gestures, and, I can only speak for myself. What is wrong with giving her a bar of chocolate? This works wonders for me, as romantic gestures move. Yes, cake, unless she is a dieter, at that situation, a lettuce is going to do. It's the thought that counts.

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Pictures with your kids: I feel this one kind of goes without saying, but I encountered so many people who had been photographed with their kids. It is not that I am against kids, I have two children, but the area of dating isn't any place for them. I say that I totally ring- fenced and would actually take that a step further my children from my relationship actions after I was confident that the trans escorts backpage Povungnituk QC had long term potential, and they met a new partner. And based upon the potential, it took anywhere from six months to get to meet with the children. Children need stability in their life by and with partners go and come, that is eroded. It may give the wrong impression about connections to them. I love that there is a counter argument here in that girls what to make it clear that they come as a package, kids and all. There are ways and means to get this message across, although I completely understand and respect this.

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These behaviours have been around for quite a while. It is now that we are providing them nicknames. The below are only excellent things to keep in mind when dating generally and also to try and take anything.

COVER OR CREEP: Mr. Arrogant Confidence is appealing but there's a thin line between it and arrogance so don't confuse the two. Whilst confidence relies on top iphone dating apps- value and self- belief, arrogance is based on a warped sense of self- importance. Ladies read arrogance of being selfobsessed, as hint and to them, that's not what they're currently looking for in a prospective partner.

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Think of it as just strolling up and having a Povungnituk backpage escorts review discussion; in fact, just begin a conversation like any various other typical time you have actually had one with the individual. Joke, laugh, and even speak about the weather condition if you've reached, yet don't ask immediately.

There are times you elite dating apps reviews never get an answer, nothing! The individual has decided, and on which basis is actually immaterial, whichyou're not their" type" . They have to acquire. Yes it's impolite and in some cases, onceyou're somewhat fragile, hurtful. But it does occur. As for me, I responded to anyone who had taken the time to write to me. I was always honest and when I did not find that Povungnituk where did backpage escorts go attractive I was going to say so( not always, but mostly) and consequently, they were thankful for my Povungnituk rotating asian escorts backpage. I'd recommend you to deal with people in precisely the exact same manner.


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People who know me will know that I’m a regular customer of that so-called famous waxing salon in town. Every month I will go there for my Brazilian waxing. I’m well known for being a bitch if I don’t get service that is up to my standard. It’s the time of the month to get my regular wax; I arrived at the salon 10 minutes before my appointment. The moment I stepped into the salon, she caught my eyes. Standing around 1.65 tall, medium-build with nice peaky breast and pouty lip. Our eyes met, both acknowledged each other with a smile. She disappeared into a room and here I’m thinking if she’s gonna be my therapist.

5 minutes later, she came out and called my name, we went into the room, she introduced herself as Penny, gave instructions for me to undress and lie on the waxing bed and she will be back shortly. I blushed; it’s not my normal reaction when I go for my waxing, but somehow this girl makes me nervous and excited at the same time. The knock came and I was all ready lying on the bed.

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I get myself up, trying to recover from the exhausted activity. Wow, what a mind-blowing experience and she was really good. I got dressed; walk out to make my payment. Her manager asked if Penny’s is ok for me, I replied with a wink, yes, she’s fast and good, I smile and walk right out…


50 times


Years From Now

bySyndra Lynn©

Dedicated to the God of cunnilingus. Thanks for everything!

edited by jthserra

As I step on the plane I remember how this trip started about a hundred years ago. Ok, maybe that is a slight exaggeration, but it was years ago now. We were both quite unassailably attached back then. But time has a way of taking circumstances beyond our control and now we’re both, well, we’re not. Attached, that is.

So I get on the plane, a nervous wreck as I ponder my destination. Not that I haven’t pondered it about a million times already. I know where I’m going and why. I’m going to see an old friend whom I’ve never met. To finally see the face that I love. And before the night is done, I will fuck him till he comes twenty times. And on our first date, too. Christ, don’t tell my mother.

Ok, technically in this computer age, you can’t consider this our first date. We’ve had hundreds, maybe thousands of dates, then. He knows me better than my closest friends do. We’ve discussed everything from kids and lovers to illnesses and addictions. Verbally he’s brought me off more than any lover I ever had. He knows the way a woman likes her pussy licked. I know him well enough to know he would never dream of coming first. He’s a generous lover, a brilliant man, a poet. It feels as if I’ve known him all my life. So why this case of the jitters?

I have all his words with me, the poems and stories he’s written for me and for others. A fresh flush warms my body as I read Passion Song for the four thousandth time. He wrote it for me over a decade ago and it still makes me hot. My nervousness ebbs and I close my eyes, try to picture a face I’ve never seen.

My sister asked, “What if he’s ugly? What if he doesn’t turn you on?”

I smiled and answered, “He’s not and he does. I’ve seen his soul and it’s beautiful. No one has ever turned me on as much as this man.” She doesn’t get it, threatened to tell Mom. I told her to go ahead if she wanted to live with the guilt of a heart attack.

The plane lands and my heart takes off like a triple crown race horse. I sit, as others disembark, trying to breathe normally. Up the ramp and into the terminal on shaking legs, I stop in the ladies room to freshen my face. I brush my long blonde hair, put on some lip gloss and restack my melons on their silver platter. Ok, technically it’s a black lace Wonder-bra, but it serves the same purpose. I’m just showing off what’s on the menu.

I’m an exhibitionist. He’s a voyeur. That’s how we met, on this great little web site for writers. I was looking for an editor for the erotic stories I write, and I stumbled into smut-writer’s heaven. Funny thing was, it turned out to be so much more than a porn site, with a close knit community of poets and friendly folks reading and giving feedback for other writers. It was amazing. We saw each other’s work and just clicked, then found out we had so much more in common than writing, even similar spiritual interests.

I’m staring at my cleavage in the mirror, frozen. Why so nervous? I know this man. I love him! Why do I feel like a teen on my first date? Because I haven’t been on a date in the last 30 years. Because making love to this man tonight will be the culmination of exquisite foreplay that has lasted almost 13 years. He’s made me come a million times and he’s never even seen me. What if I don’t turn him on?

I shake my head and look in the mirror again. He’s gonna love the lace bra peeping over my blouse. I am an exhibitionist, and it’s show time. I smile at myself, then turn and walk with slightly feigned confidence. Somewhere in the back of my mind, Ted Nugent suddenly breaks into a sizzling rendition of Stranglehold. I take my time, letting the seduction come over me. The painted on leather skirt and “fuck me” pumps get the reaction I want. One hip at a time, I conquer the corridor. I feel the eyes, see heads turn. I meet the gaze of a man sitting at the bar. He smiles hopefully. I flip my hair over my shoulder as if to say, “You wish.” This is my game and I’m ready to play.

I descend the stairs and head toward the luggage carousel that’s flashing my flight number. I casually stroll up to the belt and watch the bags go round. No need to look for him, he’ll find me. He’s seen plenty of pictures of me. I couldn’t pick him out of a line up. Well, maybe I could, I have seen his eyes. He sent me a picture once peering over a cup of coffee and told me that’s what he’d look like staring up from my muff. I had to smile. He has great eyes.

I lean forward, knowing how my skirt will ride up in back, and grab my suitcase, just a small one, then look around. Although there’s no sign of him, I can feel him here, watching me. He loves to watch, not just me, though I’m sure to be his primary target at the moment. He watches everything. I scan the room and know he sees the crowd thinning out, the woman with a baby meeting her mom, the grandmother cooing over the infant, he sees it all.

A suit puts a handle on his suitcase and wheels it from the terminal. He hasn’t been laid in a long time and it shows. A young couple kisses like he’s returning from war. Thank God that’s a thing of the past. Jeff’s got his eyes on the way the man’s hands are squeezing her ass, I’m sure of it. Then I see a man leaning against a pillar looking at me. I meet his gaze, size him up; tall and thin with gray hair, self assured look. That’s not Jeff. No way that’s him. As I scan the room again, Mr. Self-assured heads my direction, now looking more cocky than confident.

He extends his hand. “Hi Syndra, I’m Jeff.”

I stare into his eyes, but don’t reach for his hand. “No you’re not.” He looks confused, but I ignore him, turn away and look at the decreasing population in the terminal. Baggage claim clerk helps tired mother with 2 little kids, as a sexy young man lifts a guitar case from the still revolving carousel. Gray hair above newspaper, eyes watching me. That’s Jeff. The eyes smile as I walk toward him. Oh yes, those are Jeff’s eyes. He continues to peer over his paper. I lean in, resting a hand on my knee, pulling the paper down so the sway of my breasts is directly in his line of sight. He’s grinning. “Hi Jeff.”

“Hi, Syn.” He rises and pulls me to him in a long hug.

All my qualms evaporate with his breath on my neck. I could stay here forever, where I’ve wanted to be for so long. Jeff is holding me in his arms! Oh, it’s almost too good to be true. Finally and reluctantly we release the embrace and he kisses me. His lips press tenderly to mine and I melt. My panties grow damp and all the foreplay from all the years creeps into my consciousness. More than anything I want to drop to my knees and release his desire, but I just kiss him again, and look into his wonderful eyes. “Nice to see you.”

He smiles. God he’s got a great smile! He’s just as I had him pictured. Slightly over 6 feet, gray hair and beard, with this open face. I don’t know what I mean by open. Honest, friendly maybe? Or maybe I just know him so well he’s like an open book to me. He’s well built with biceps rock hard beneath his black shirt. And those eyes! He has gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Nice to see you, too Syn. You look beautiful.” He drops his gaze to my bosom then plants a big kiss and a lick on the swell above the lace. I gasp and my cunt begins to pulse with pent up desire. He watches my face flush with need. “Absolutely gorgeous. And you smell of lilacs. Shall we go?”

I’m speechless, and slightly breathless, as he lifts my bag and hands it to his impersonator. “Syn, this is Mike, our chauffeur.”

“Hi Mike.”

“Ma’am. Nice to meet you.” He takes my bag and leads us out of the terminal. A black stretch limo sits by the curb. Mike opens the door and bows slightly.

I raise one eyebrow at Jeff. He just smiles and waves me in first. I slide onto the leather seat as he climbs in after. “Nice ride. Why the impostor?”

“You know why.”

“You wanted to watch me, I know. But I would have danced naked, had you asked. Why the impostor? Were you going to run away if you didn’t like what you saw?” For just an instant, a pinch of my earlier nervousness returns.

He slides closer and pulls me into a kiss. “Not a chance, Syn. I just wanted to watch you without you reacting to me, just being you.”

Mike gets in front. “To the restaurant, Sir?”

“The reservations are at nine. Just drive until then. Show Syndra the town.”

“Yes Sir.” The partition creeps up between the front seat and us.

I straddle his lap, press my crotch to his, and feel him rise to meet me. I kiss him long and sweet, loving, exploring. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning when all her dreams come true. And I still have a package to unwrap.

He reaches into my blouse, under the lace and lifts one breast into view. “Jesus, Syn, you weren’t kidding.”

I smile. “Meaning?”

“You have perfect nipples.” He’s right. I do. I’m not bragging, it’s simply true. I have vanilla breasts with caramel nips that gather with the slightest breeze. Of course I already told him this because, well, that’s just how I am. He suckles like a newborn and I swoon into him. Dizzy now, I just ride along in this plush automobile across his lap while he sucks my tit and I rub my clit against his jeans. I am in heaven.

His tongue slides up my neck and his lips find mine again. He palms my panties. “You’re hot.”

“Why thank you, love. You’re pretty hot yourself.” I slide onto the floor before his finger can sneak under the damp nylon. He reaches, but I slip between his knees, release his belt and pull his fly open. One last sizzling glance at his eyes, then I dip in to find my prize. “Oh, God, Jeff! It’s everything I hoped for.” He smiles and watches me cradle it in my hand like a precious artifact and lick it like the delectable treat it is.

I’ve waited so long for this moment. I wonder if I ever told him how much I love to give head? He’s about to find out as I lick and kiss and swirl. Swirl again and swallow hard. I love the way it feels against my lips, my tongue. They should make lipstick in the shape of a cock. Not thin like lipstick, cock sized. I love the way the rubbery tip feels soft against my lips and all over my tongue, eyelids, cheeks. Ok, the lipstick idea might get messy. I swallow again, taking his length in my mouth.

“Jesus, Syn!”

I dive again and suck slowly back to the tip and swirl my tongue. Men have told me they don’t need the swirl, it’s just for show in porno movies. But I need it. I love it! I like to lick it and play with it and gobble and suckle it. So I swirl because it feels good. Damn it feels good. My pussy starts to throb, my nipples press hard against the rough lace of my bra.

I bathe the entire surface with my tongue. Such a lovely prick, my God! Nice, slow strokes with my hand, while I attend to his balls. I palm one and take the other into my mouth very gently, licking and sucking. I squeeze and lick and revel in the scent of him. Musky man scent, warm and close. Finally so close. A small moan escapes his lips. As I shift my weight and lick my way back up the shaft, I glance at his face. I have to smile. At this point in a blow job, most men are lolled back, eyes shut and nearly drooling. Not Jeff. My voyeur is watching every move. Now I’m really turned on.

The only thing I love more than sucking cock is being watched while I suck cock. I swallow him deep, but he’s reached his full length. I love a challenge. I smile and pull back slowly, sucking till I reach the head, lick the tip and dive on him again. He moans and puts his hand in my hair, not forcing me, just petting, appreciating. I let the slickness at the back of my throat slide around his cock, then pull back slow, sucking hard. He quivers slightly. I lift my eyes to see him watching, hold his gaze a minute, smiling as I flick my tongue against his glans. I wrap my lips around his shaft and swallow deep. When he reaches the back of my throat, I take a deep breath, open my throat and take it all.

He quivers. “Oh, God, Syn!”

I swallow him like a python takes her supper, sucking and squeezing him with my throat. I’m a good swimmer, so I can hold my breath quite a while. I keep him buried deep, swallowing repeatedly so the muscles in my throat constrict around his flesh. I hear a slight whimper. My hand moves to gently squeeze his balls while I feast on his flesh. It’s heaven having him in my mouth, down my throat, fucking my face. I pull back a bit, breathe, and dive on him again, opening my throat and swallowing him whole. The sound of his ragged breath drives me to peak performance. I lose track as I gobble and breathe, lick and swallow, take it deep and then retreat to tickle with my tongue. I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun. Soaked with desire, I lose myself in the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him. I want this to last forever, but it doesn’t take long.

“I’m gonna come, Syn.” Requisite warning offers to let me back off if I don’t want to swallow.

My efforts redouble. I’ve waited a long time and I am dying to taste this man. My panties are drenched and my nipples press hard against his thighs, reaching for him. His legs tremble, go taut, as I greedily suck him, softening the grip of my lips but maintaining the depth of my stroke. My head bobs in his lap, taking it all, savoring the creamy texture on my tongue, the salty sweet flavor I have only dreamed for so long. My stroke slows as I softly gulp his cream and moan with ecstasy. I milk the last drops into my mouth. Softly I kiss and lick his rubbery flesh, memorizing the feel of it against my lips. He pulls me up into his arms and kisses me with his tongue.

We melt together, kissing softly, then just breathing as I nuzzle his neck, smelling the wonderful scent of him. Once he catches his breath, he smiles at me. “You’re good, Syn.”

“You inspire me, Jeff.”

He reaches between my thighs and slips a finger under my panties. “God, you’re wet!”

I am. I can feel my desire flowing in the rivers of my veins and converging to pool in my warm delta. “Fuck me with your fingers,” I whisper in his ear.

He needs no encouragement to slip inside me two fingers, then three, as I gasp, and grasp at his touch. He rolls me onto my back and takes a nipple to his lips, making me moan. His thumb finds my clit and my breath comes fast. His other hand slips inside my bra to tweak my other nipple.

“Oh, yes, Jeff.”

His mouth on my breast and his attention to my clit bring my heart rate up fast. His fingers deep in me are delicious, twisting and reaching for my center. I hum along with the rhythm to which my hips are rocking.

He knows I’m close and coaxes me. “Come, Syndra, come. I want to see.”

And I do. I scream as it hits, and lift my hips. After thirteen years of foreplay, that’s all it takes. I have never been more ready in my life. He brought me to the brink a thousand times on words alone, then pushed me over time and again. He did this to me, inspired this heat, this desire, this wanton, willing passion. And now he takes me in the flesh and I am so ready to let go, to come in his arms. I have dreamed it so long and, now I do not need much coaxing to come here.

He licks his fingers clean and smiles at me. “You taste good.” He kisses me deeply and my mouth is now a mingle of his taste and mine. Our lips and tongues dance together for a long time, twirling in the heat of sated lust.

We talk of sex and poetry until we reach the restaurant. I fix my makeup and comb my hair. He’s brought me to Carelli’s, his favorite place. The hostess knows him, seats us at a booth in the back. It’s small, charming and cozy with a circular fireplace in the center, wine racks along the back wall and romantic lighting. But I’m not really here for the atmosphere. I slide right next to him in the booth and put my hand on his thigh. He wraps an arm around my shoulder and we share a menu.

“I’m starving,” I say. “What’s good?”

“Depends on what you’re in the mood for.”

“As long as I get linguine, I’ll be happy.”

When the waiter comes, Jeff orders chicken saltimboca and I get lobster alfredo over linguine. We talk and play and eat and laugh. He twirls my fork and feeds me linguine. We lock arms and sip from our glasses, eye to eye. My right thigh is lopped over his left, and he occasionally reaches under my skirt for a pet. The evening is an odd combination of first date/honeymoon gestures and emotions. After dinner he orders a brownie hot fudge sundae and a shot of gin. I order coffee and share his dessert, spooning every other bite into his mouth. Our kisses are now chocolate, laced with liquor. The combination is intoxicating.

I suddenly remember a poem he wrote a long time ago and feel inspired. I slide back so I’m resting against the wall, lift my right leg until my foot rests on the seat and my knee is pressed to my chest. Then I dip my fingers under damp panties, pull wet fingers out and stir his gin. He grins broadly, lifts his glass to his nose to smell my scent, then takes a sip. I let him lick my fingers then watch him lick his lips.

“Well?” he challenges me.

“Well what?”

“What about the rest of the poem?”

“Here and now?”

“You did in the poem.”

“In the poem we were in a bar. This is a nice family place.” He’s just looking at me, waiting. “You want they should ask us to leave and never come back?”

“It would be worth it to watch.” He’s really grinning now.

I feel my face flush, but it’s not from embarrassment. I’m turned on and he knows it. I move my hand between my legs and slip fingers back inside the dampness. With my other hand I pull the panties to one side so he can see.

His eyes fix on my naked mons, freshly shaved this morning because I know he likes it that way. He reaches absently and strokes one finger up the smooth lips. I quiver. I don’t know if it’s from the touch, or the way he’s looking at me as though admiring a work of art.

I dip the fingers deep, making them slick, then rub them hard against my growing clit. I tilt my tailbone under to give him a better view. I love doing it for him, love that he’s watching me. And then there is the element of danger, I could get caught. Other’s could watch, are probably watching now. A fresh flush warms my thighs and my breath comes faster. I work tight, hard circles around my clit. Gotta be fast or I’m gonna get caught. Yes. He’s watching, amazed, looks as if he’d like to help, but just watches, hypnotized by the little circles I’m making. I slide the fingers in, fuck myself as deep as I can, slide them back out to molest my clit. I’ve lost track of where I am, and just rock in the seat. Small moans escape my lips, eyes closed. So close, I’m nearly there.

“Are you ready for your check?”

My eyes fly open. I see the waiter just as his eyes lock on me. My mind registers my location and situation just in time to silence a scream. Orgasm overtakes me. Jeff and the waiter are spellbound as I writhe and pant and moan as quietly as I can manage. Slowly the tremors subside. Nonchalantly, I place my leg back under the table, stir Jeff’s gin with sticky fingers and then lick them off.

Jeff empties the glass in one gulp and hands the waiter a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change.” He takes me by the hand, and leads me on weak knees to the parking lot, where we roll laughing into the back seat of the limo. Mike starts the car and we make a clean getaway.

Jeff pulls my knees up and pushes me onto my back. One hand unzips his fly and releases his thick cock as the other slides my panties off in one very smooth move. I am impressed, and so very ready to get fucked. I reach to guide him in but he pushes my hand away.

“I love seeing you so eager,” he teases. He leans over me, supporting his weight on his elbows and kisses me. “I love seeing you.” His eyes are so sexy.

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Foot Domination Videos - Do you love dominant ladies who love to play with their slaves and order them to lick their feet? Then come and watch them - NOW! - Page 10

Mistress Serena was cheering her team. Her slave supported the rival team and she was pissed. She waited till the game ended and her team won and she crushed and humiliated her slave for fun. She told him he was a loser like the team he supported and she made sure he licked her shoes as well as her socks. When she was done with him, she told him to switch sides and support her team.

Mistress BlackDiamoond and lady Carmen had contracted this loser to do some plumbing works for them. But he did not do it the way they wanted. So the mistresses punished him in an effort to get him to do the right thing. They trampled his face and even covered his face with a plastic bag and he nearly choked. But they did not care. They wanted him to do a good job.

Mistress Paola was waiting for her friends to go out with them. They were to come and pick her up but somehow they were late. So she kept herself busy waiting for them by trampling her slave using her bare feet as well as with her sneakers. She had him sniff both of them and lick the soles of her bare feet before she felt it was enough punishment for him.

Princess Serena is not one to mess with, as this guy came to find out. He tried to bully her but he found out rather too late that she does not get bullied or even scared. She trampled him painfully and even made him lick her sweaty socks. She used them to trample his face and to pump some sense into his head. By the time she was done with him, he wished he had not tried to mess with her.

Mistress Clarissa and her friend mistress Dorothy like to dare each other and to bet. Whoever loses a bet or a dare gets to do what the other one wants. It is always edgy stuff and today mistress Clarissa lost the bet and mistress Dorothy had an awesome time making her lick her boots and she had to because she had lost the bet. She licked even the soles of the boots.

Goddess Bianca was pissed at her friend for giving her secrets away. She had to make sure it never happened as her slave had a lot of her secrets. She humiliated her friend to send a message to her. She did this by making her friend lick her socks which were sweaty and smelly. She did not care what her friend went through. All she cared about was that it never happened again.

Mistress Natasha came home from work and she was pissed to find that her slave had not followed her instructions. She punished him by making him lick the soles of her shoes and used the shoes to trample him. The mistress did not want him to do what he had done again. She humiliated him in her bedroom and that was the only time he had been allowed into her bedroom.

Lady Krasaviza wanted to make sure that her slave was taught a lesson. She hates slaves who are not well behaved and this one was not. She humiliated by making him eat her feet's dead skin. She scrubbed it off her feet and she fed it to him. She made him watch what she was doing before she made him eat it. That way, he was double humiliated and it was more fun.

Madame Marissa wanted her slave to learn to remember things. He had poor memory and she did not like it. She did not want to be the one to remind him everything. She trampled him hard in the kitchen using her high heel boots when he forgot what she had asked him to prepare for dinner. She crushed him to let him know that anytime she reminded him of something, it would be followed by crushing and trampling.

Mistress Divine Domino is one of the few mistresses who have a torture chamber in their houses. She has one because she likes to torture slaves and losers as a sport. She likes it because it is sound proof and they can scream all they want and no one will hear them. Today she took her slave there and she trampled him and stomped over his body from head to toe.

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Cutting Fetish

Definition - What does Cutting Fetish mean?

Cutting Fetish is a term for a sexual interest in cutting to draw blood. People with a cutting fetish may fantasize about cutting themselves and/or sexual partners, or they may act these fantasies out.

People with a cutting fetish may use a range of instruments, including knives and razor blades. As those with a cutting fetish most often wish to draw blood, a cutting fetish is often related to a blood fetish.

Kinkly explains Cutting Fetish

A cutting fetish is very different from a desire to self harm, even though the way they manifest is similar. People with a cutting fetish often have healthy self confidence and happy dispositions. They cut to feel sexual pleasure and arousal, rather than to punish themselves or deal with mental illness.

Of course, no one should cut another person without clear consent, and in fact most people with a cutting fetish prefer to become sexually involved with others who share the fetish. Some people with a cutting fetish say that acting on the fetish makes them feel closer to their sexual partners and increases their sexual pleasure.

A cutting fetish has the potential to be very dangerous, as it is easy for someone who doesn’t have an intimate knowledge of the human body to cut a major vein or artery and cause serious harm. If this occurs, even consensual cutting can be illegal. During sexual arousal a person can withstand more pain, so they may also cut or be cut too deeply. Blood can also carry diseases, such as HIV, which can be transmitted during a cutting encounter. To minimize these risks, only people in monogamous relationships who know one another’s sexual health status should engage in cutting. They should also only use clean cutting implements, and apply antibacterial ointments after cuts have been made.

Despite the risks, most people with a cutting fetish simply accept it as part of their sexual identity. Therapy is generally not sought, but may be helpful if a person with a cutting fetish feels it is interfering with their personal or professional life.

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VEC-476 - Mother's Best Friend Kanon Ibuki

Mature Woman,Creampie,Married Woman,Big Tits,Big Asses

Ibuki Kanon

Release date：

2021-05-19

Video description

Kota fell in love with her mother's best friend, Hanane. - It all started when her mother entrusted her to talk to Hanane. - Kota is so beautiful that she can't think of her mother's best friend, and is stared at by Hanane with big boobs, and can't stand it and just immerses herself in a delusion. - He sadly had his body erected just by imagining it honestly ... - Moreover, Hanane saw his lower body in a tent ..


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Time is a superb time to meet because during the day many of us are busy with work. We typically have a fixed amount of time for lunch. This gives you the ability to leave on the pretext that you need to return to work. It's possible to reluctantly drag yourself away and nearly always land that second date when the date goes well.

It's something regarding going out on a date and also having an understanding that it's only a date to take a break and if sex is in the menu then so be it. There's nothing like going out having all the fun you desire without any attachments or any individual to response to when you get home, simply a sense of liberty.

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You have not heard back from him It's senior online dating that the man has shipped out lots and lots of messages although you have finished one message cycle, is becoming interested in exchanging emails with a different woman. He can be dismissing some of his contacts. If you are really interested, just check in with him gently.

Your greatest score will be your primary love language. Your greatest score will be your love language. Talk about them with your partner, once you understand your primary and secondary love languages and learn what your partner's escorts backpage latina Saint-Ulric languages will be.

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MAW's perform the lifts guys do. They try to compete with the guys. They show up to powerlifting strength and meets training contests taking selfies. It's a continuation of the mentality that not only can girls do anything men do, but they damn well ought to. They should, for the progress of the cause of feminism, compete with men in each arena ill- advised or however absurd. MAW's are not content inhabiting the guys they attempt to develop into those guys. It odd. By all means, find a girl who treats her body. Date a girl who knows how to consume can cook, and functions to keep her body fit she places on it. However, for your own sake, prevent the hyper- sexualized selfie- taking MAW. They are not healthy, and they are not satisfied. And so long as you are around them, you won't be. Fitness- selfie culture's immodesty alone is nauseating. Ask yourself, would you want your kids find pictures of their mom standing in the front of the bathroom mirror with her ass cheeks spread and to grow up? It is hardly a degree above prostitution, and socially sanctioned narcissism. Saint-Ulric Québec on kid, have some self- respect. Not demand that degree of. They will thank you. If not you can sleep easy knowing they had no motive.

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- - Ed As we make our way up the mountain, we all observe graffiti on the stones, written by poets talking about adore. Most of what we understand about love is by the poets. Who had some homework in college concerning the nature of love? Would you take time right now to do a little" homework? " In the space below, write your definition of what love is. ( We are talking about love between two individuals in a romantic relationship, not about parental love, spiritual love, or love for humankind. ) Love is: We've asked thousands of individuals to complete this workout, and what we discovered is that though it is a difficult assignment for anyone, it's particularly difficult for people. A typical escorts backpage latina Saint-Ulric QC is, " I believed I knew what love is, but I suppose I don't. " A lot of people feel defining love. But love is using a great number of facets, just like a diamond. You can see it in many different directions, and there's no wrong or right way. There's merely.

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You must take note that any relationship site /app's free versions, are filled with prostitutes, scammers, spammers, and predators. Your results will be much better as a paying member, and you will have access to options and features.

" Dating apps mobile, " I responded unenthusiastically. Sweat ran down my anus out of the very top of my helmeted head and evaporating into my now T- shirt that was dusty. I felt a little better and peered at Cal. He seemed kind of like I felt.

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No dialog is entered by them unless they listen to what carefully and introverts are Great Listeners Introverts have the power of listening compared to extroverts and know what the subject is all about. They prepare to speak before they open their mouth and this caliber helps them talk with confidence. You are able to get benefited from this power as an introvert and utilize your listening abilities in different social situations to spare from the embarrassing moments when one is wondering what to say or how to react to individuals about a sure thing in the event of lacking good listening skills.

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Shouldyou're quirky? My vote isusually'no'- - it is the man that is rare that can pull off that. You shouldn't look as if you've given your outfit consideration, although you can have a conversation starter piece.

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This really is the key John uses to continue pounding her without losing his erection. Since him above turns and he can't wait to sleep with them, tired- Sarah'll be mentally cheated on by him by fucking those girls in his mind.

Deciding What You Want Let's try to narrow down our intentions. The fact of the matter is that in case you don't have a very clear idea about whatyou're attempting to do or possess standards for the sort of woman you will date, thenyou're likely to be running about with results. Do you want relationships? Something more severe? Hook ups? Would so you are able to have more experience in talking to 19, you only want to get dates? You are amenable to seeing things could go with a single woman; but have criteria in regard, and are like me.

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