Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
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Flamboyant Days, Ben WA Balls, Irish Pub And A Bet free porn video
Summer 2018
Lust balls or Ben Wa balls aroused my curiosity. Albeit I knew what most of the sex toys do, I was baffled when I saw those little balls, which would not look out of place in the cat toy aisle of a pet store given their size and bright or metallic coloring. I googled, read a lot of exciting articles and decided I have to have one.
I went to an adult store, an attractive girl in her early twenties assisted me. She was dressed in a sheer black long top and a red G-string thong. She excused her outfit and said, her shift in the affiliated strip club was due; thus, the manager asked her to help in the shop. The girl was quite a temptation! Six-foot tall, blonde, firm tits from what I could see, and athletic. Maybe she was a bit under the weather, talked a lot, and touched me always. At first, I was disgruntled, I had asked for help, not a massage. So what, I thought, copied her behavior and touched her too. Anyway, a co-worker called for her, she blew me a kiss and hurried back. I bought a set and left.
The Ben Wa balls are about an inch in diameter, shiny metallic plastic, a metal ball inside. The movement of the metal causes tiny sensations in the vagina, and for some women, this movement could bring them to orgasm. I read stories of ladies holding Ben Wa balls in their vag and doing housework, building up sexual arousal during the day for when their husbands return home from work. Some women sat down with the balls in the vagina and rocked themselves to orgasm. Rock myself to orgasm! WOW! That was my ultimate shopping signal. The instruction advises lubing the balls (two single balls in the package, attached by a rope). I cleaned them, inserted the first one carefully, and was taught that I didn't reckon with my pussy. The ball opened the wet lips of my exciting entrance and sucked it in. Just like that, it was gone. A bit chilly a brief moment, I stuffed the other one inside me as well, got up, and felt the balls jiggle inside the vagina. The instruction says: The feeling of the balls is very slight (agree). This slight movement of the inner balls will cause your kegel muscles to tighten (hope so!). Depending on your sensitivity, you will begin to feel aroused (I am). Using these balls is the easiest and most effective way to work out your muscles because your vagina is forced to flex to keep the balls in when you are active (excellent).
First, I used the secret fun makers at home on the sofa only, did housekeeping later, got more daring, drove the car, and lastly, in office. You should have seen Paul's face when I pulled the balls out. He fucked me and said I had my muscles strengthened. Whether it was a compliment to continue or the truth, can't tell, but they provide constant sexual stimulation. Once in the car, I shook the belly, a ball touched the G-spot, and I climaxed without touching me. Luckily, I arrived at the car park minutes before.
I do almost anything Paul asks me for. Still, I'm prudent when my pussy has to face a new challenge, or vice versa, when I did something of shallow intelligence and maximum joy before. The other day I consulted my favorite gynecologist, an attractive brunette in her forties. The lust balls already inside I undressed and took a seat on the examination chair. Totally unlike her, she dropped a comment on my perfectly shaved pussy, her words!! and asked to press one ball out. 'Got some too, but yours are big,' she stated and pushed it back in the vagina. I can't say for sure, I think her fingers stroke my clit.
Unmistakably, time was on her hand. She asked me to get up, walk, and kneel. She gave her thumb up already when I said, I can do the splits as well, raised one leg, piece of cake, thanks to my regular workout program, and looked in her face. She was completely taken aback, seeing me standing on one foot, the other above the head. It took her a moment to collect her wits and mumbled, ''you're very temptingly. Better get dressed.' She is my favorite doctor in the sense of competence, witty, and erotic. I wouldn't have minded if she had treated my pussy professionally, fingers, weird machine, orgasm on prescription. A very brief moment, I considered a phony question about my tits, just to make her touch me. I like her and dropped the silly thought. When I left, she smiled a smile that spoke of many words to say and things to do. She hugged me tightly, squeezed her tits on mine, kissed the corner of my mouth, and wished me well in a seasoned tone. And I had the feeling we were going to have a beautiful friendship.
It was a sweltering summer 2018. I was braless for a solid week in office, including at a board meeting on Friday. I wore the typical office uniform for women, a blouse, a blazer, and a skirt. My tits bounced and dangled, but the managers didn't pay much attention or pretend not to, because of strict company rules, and that was fine with me. Anyway, being bra-less in office was an old personal rule long overdue to break. Yet, the meeting was pretty dull, typical chitchat and competition of who is the most crucial person in the room and has least to say. I, on the contrary, grew hornier and hornier, don't know why, entirely inappropriate. After everything was stated, I rushed for the bath, undressed and washed the upper body in cold water in the vague hope to relax. Still, I had forgotten to lock the door. I heard quick steps, the door opened, I turned around. A trainee saw my full tits and gave an indefinable primal scream. Quickly she locked the door from inside, didn't say a word, seconds later she massaged my tits and sucked a nipple. I pushed her away and asked if she knows who I was. 'Of course,' she muttered, 'you showed me around on the executive floor.' 'Well,' I said, 'I need you to promise what happens here, stays here. You want fun, I want fun, but neither of us wants trouble. If you agree, seal the deal with a kiss.' The 21-year-old lady was crazier than me and full of wild passion. She was my gift of God. Days later, I called HR, asked for her, and learned that she had finished her internship last Friday. I hung up and was in the fists of laughter. She was a newbie. HR begged me to describe her - in a group of six - top management. It's not my job. Neither I have the time, nor am I an entertainer for people. Yet I gave in for the sake of a good deed a day. While all the others in the group hoped to see the CEO, she didn't care and asked me what a good manager might be. I said, 'after 20 years on this job, I'm inclined to say there are two rules. First, make sure you fuck others and not vise versa. Second, if you get fucked, take the best out of it.' She fucked me. I'm positive, she will make her way. Well done!
I don't know what the principle was behind that Friday. Back home, I wore a long summer dress only, my beloved big nipple shields, deep inside two Ben Wa balls. Actually, it's no good idea to go out without pants, but I was trained and fulfilled a wish by Paul. We went to a local Irish Pub, had a couple of beer in the pub garden, and I told the love of my life the story with the young gal. Time went by, the virtue of two pints of Guinness's in my belly, we got hornier by the hour, and my cleavage turned to a gorge thanks to an invention called buttons. A couple of guys in their late twenties sat at a table in front of us but further afar. I bent forward every then and now, pretended false needs, dusted off my sandals, or dropped a pen on the floor. How clumsy I can be when I'm horny. The guys had a perfect look at my dangling mature tits; I was topless more or less. Paul said they stared at my tits, grinned, and made low-voiced comments about the shields. Next, I lifted the dress slightly, spread the legs like Sharon Stone in a movie, enough to put my shaved pussy at display. Paul looked at the guys and suggested a bet. Should one of the fellows come over, chat me up, love to eat me out, or fuck me, we would take him and his friends to our house, and I could go the full monty. If not, we take a route back home thru a park, where I undress and walk home naked, whoever comes along. Well, the opportunity was too good to miss - five young studs who might please me. I turned sideways to Paul, pulled out one tit clearly visible for the guys, looked at Paul, and freed the other too.
Make a guess! Around midnight I walked home naked. Seeing his wife fully nude, Paul got a fantastic erection, so we fucked on a bench in the middle of the park. In the distance, we saw a guy, later a couple walking their dogs. Soon, I got used to nakedness and danced barefoot on the grass. Nature made me feel alive; the warmth of the breeze on the skin, the smell of summer, a silver moon shining on a clear sky, crickets chirping in the bushes. How fortunate that I was not demure because I had the pussy in the wind. And then it happened, we got caught. Breaking branches in the bushes under heavy feet next to us and a big black dog blocked the path. Far away, a guy called his pet.
The dog had a profound knowledge of horny women. It didn't check my tits, face, or ass, focused right away on the cum running down the thighs. It came closer and stuck its big nose on the clit. I begged Paul to pull the dog away, please no dog's tongue on my pussy. Who knows what it had licked off before? Yet the dog was faster, stuck out its long wet tongue and licked me off like at least two hot people at the same time. It was quite an experience!!! 'Wait,' I said to Paul, 'hold me.' An orgasm built up, I spread the legs, ruffled the dog's fur, got first minor spasms. Yet the silly dog run back to his master's voice. Paul noticed my needs, fingered me, and I exploded a second time in his arms.
Butt naked, I went back to the street where we live, entered the house, and took the elevator. Guess, the security or the janitor had some fun the next day when they checked the video footage of that night.
I told the story of the Pub an American friend I met online on a 'sexy site.' She said, unlike in Europe, an American wouldn't need a written invitation. A pussy on display, tits out, is a big call come on over, and let's fuck the brains out. To prove the statement, she attached pics taken at a biker rally ... I had no further questions.
Lust balls or Ben Wa balls aroused my curiosity. Albeit I knew what most of the sex toys do, I was baffled when I saw those little balls, which would not look out of place in the cat toy aisle of a pet store given their size and bright or metallic coloring. I googled, read a lot of exciting articles and decided I have to have one.
I went to an adult store, an attractive girl in her early twenties assisted me. She was dressed in a sheer black long top and a red G-string thong. She excused her outfit and said, her shift in the affiliated strip club was due; thus, the manager asked her to help in the shop. The girl was quite a temptation! Six-foot tall, blonde, firm tits from what I could see, and athletic. Maybe she was a bit under the weather, talked a lot, and touched me always. At first, I was disgruntled, I had asked for help, not a massage. So what, I thought, copied her behavior and touched her too. Anyway, a co-worker called for her, she blew me a kiss and hurried back. I bought a set and left.
The Ben Wa balls are about an inch in diameter, shiny metallic plastic, a metal ball inside. The movement of the metal causes tiny sensations in the vagina, and for some women, this movement could bring them to orgasm. I read stories of ladies holding Ben Wa balls in their vag and doing housework, building up sexual arousal during the day for when their husbands return home from work. Some women sat down with the balls in the vagina and rocked themselves to orgasm. Rock myself to orgasm! WOW! That was my ultimate shopping signal. The instruction advises lubing the balls (two single balls in the package, attached by a rope). I cleaned them, inserted the first one carefully, and was taught that I didn't reckon with my pussy. The ball opened the wet lips of my exciting entrance and sucked it in. Just like that, it was gone. A bit chilly a brief moment, I stuffed the other one inside me as well, got up, and felt the balls jiggle inside the vagina. The instruction says: The feeling of the balls is very slight (agree). This slight movement of the inner balls will cause your kegel muscles to tighten (hope so!). Depending on your sensitivity, you will begin to feel aroused (I am). Using these balls is the easiest and most effective way to work out your muscles because your vagina is forced to flex to keep the balls in when you are active (excellent).
First, I used the secret fun makers at home on the sofa only, did housekeeping later, got more daring, drove the car, and lastly, in office. You should have seen Paul's face when I pulled the balls out. He fucked me and said I had my muscles strengthened. Whether it was a compliment to continue or the truth, can't tell, but they provide constant sexual stimulation. Once in the car, I shook the belly, a ball touched the G-spot, and I climaxed without touching me. Luckily, I arrived at the car park minutes before.
I do almost anything Paul asks me for. Still, I'm prudent when my pussy has to face a new challenge, or vice versa, when I did something of shallow intelligence and maximum joy before. The other day I consulted my favorite gynecologist, an attractive brunette in her forties. The lust balls already inside I undressed and took a seat on the examination chair. Totally unlike her, she dropped a comment on my perfectly shaved pussy, her words!! and asked to press one ball out. 'Got some too, but yours are big,' she stated and pushed it back in the vagina. I can't say for sure, I think her fingers stroke my clit.
Unmistakably, time was on her hand. She asked me to get up, walk, and kneel. She gave her thumb up already when I said, I can do the splits as well, raised one leg, piece of cake, thanks to my regular workout program, and looked in her face. She was completely taken aback, seeing me standing on one foot, the other above the head. It took her a moment to collect her wits and mumbled, ''you're very temptingly. Better get dressed.' She is my favorite doctor in the sense of competence, witty, and erotic. I wouldn't have minded if she had treated my pussy professionally, fingers, weird machine, orgasm on prescription. A very brief moment, I considered a phony question about my tits, just to make her touch me. I like her and dropped the silly thought. When I left, she smiled a smile that spoke of many words to say and things to do. She hugged me tightly, squeezed her tits on mine, kissed the corner of my mouth, and wished me well in a seasoned tone. And I had the feeling we were going to have a beautiful friendship.
It was a sweltering summer 2018. I was braless for a solid week in office, including at a board meeting on Friday. I wore the typical office uniform for women, a blouse, a blazer, and a skirt. My tits bounced and dangled, but the managers didn't pay much attention or pretend not to, because of strict company rules, and that was fine with me. Anyway, being bra-less in office was an old personal rule long overdue to break. Yet, the meeting was pretty dull, typical chitchat and competition of who is the most crucial person in the room and has least to say. I, on the contrary, grew hornier and hornier, don't know why, entirely inappropriate. After everything was stated, I rushed for the bath, undressed and washed the upper body in cold water in the vague hope to relax. Still, I had forgotten to lock the door. I heard quick steps, the door opened, I turned around. A trainee saw my full tits and gave an indefinable primal scream. Quickly she locked the door from inside, didn't say a word, seconds later she massaged my tits and sucked a nipple. I pushed her away and asked if she knows who I was. 'Of course,' she muttered, 'you showed me around on the executive floor.' 'Well,' I said, 'I need you to promise what happens here, stays here. You want fun, I want fun, but neither of us wants trouble. If you agree, seal the deal with a kiss.' The 21-year-old lady was crazier than me and full of wild passion. She was my gift of God. Days later, I called HR, asked for her, and learned that she had finished her internship last Friday. I hung up and was in the fists of laughter. She was a newbie. HR begged me to describe her - in a group of six - top management. It's not my job. Neither I have the time, nor am I an entertainer for people. Yet I gave in for the sake of a good deed a day. While all the others in the group hoped to see the CEO, she didn't care and asked me what a good manager might be. I said, 'after 20 years on this job, I'm inclined to say there are two rules. First, make sure you fuck others and not vise versa. Second, if you get fucked, take the best out of it.' She fucked me. I'm positive, she will make her way. Well done!
I don't know what the principle was behind that Friday. Back home, I wore a long summer dress only, my beloved big nipple shields, deep inside two Ben Wa balls. Actually, it's no good idea to go out without pants, but I was trained and fulfilled a wish by Paul. We went to a local Irish Pub, had a couple of beer in the pub garden, and I told the love of my life the story with the young gal. Time went by, the virtue of two pints of Guinness's in my belly, we got hornier by the hour, and my cleavage turned to a gorge thanks to an invention called buttons. A couple of guys in their late twenties sat at a table in front of us but further afar. I bent forward every then and now, pretended false needs, dusted off my sandals, or dropped a pen on the floor. How clumsy I can be when I'm horny. The guys had a perfect look at my dangling mature tits; I was topless more or less. Paul said they stared at my tits, grinned, and made low-voiced comments about the shields. Next, I lifted the dress slightly, spread the legs like Sharon Stone in a movie, enough to put my shaved pussy at display. Paul looked at the guys and suggested a bet. Should one of the fellows come over, chat me up, love to eat me out, or fuck me, we would take him and his friends to our house, and I could go the full monty. If not, we take a route back home thru a park, where I undress and walk home naked, whoever comes along. Well, the opportunity was too good to miss - five young studs who might please me. I turned sideways to Paul, pulled out one tit clearly visible for the guys, looked at Paul, and freed the other too.
Make a guess! Around midnight I walked home naked. Seeing his wife fully nude, Paul got a fantastic erection, so we fucked on a bench in the middle of the park. In the distance, we saw a guy, later a couple walking their dogs. Soon, I got used to nakedness and danced barefoot on the grass. Nature made me feel alive; the warmth of the breeze on the skin, the smell of summer, a silver moon shining on a clear sky, crickets chirping in the bushes. How fortunate that I was not demure because I had the pussy in the wind. And then it happened, we got caught. Breaking branches in the bushes under heavy feet next to us and a big black dog blocked the path. Far away, a guy called his pet.
The dog had a profound knowledge of horny women. It didn't check my tits, face, or ass, focused right away on the cum running down the thighs. It came closer and stuck its big nose on the clit. I begged Paul to pull the dog away, please no dog's tongue on my pussy. Who knows what it had licked off before? Yet the dog was faster, stuck out its long wet tongue and licked me off like at least two hot people at the same time. It was quite an experience!!! 'Wait,' I said to Paul, 'hold me.' An orgasm built up, I spread the legs, ruffled the dog's fur, got first minor spasms. Yet the silly dog run back to his master's voice. Paul noticed my needs, fingered me, and I exploded a second time in his arms.
Butt naked, I went back to the street where we live, entered the house, and took the elevator. Guess, the security or the janitor had some fun the next day when they checked the video footage of that night.
I told the story of the Pub an American friend I met online on a 'sexy site.' She said, unlike in Europe, an American wouldn't need a written invitation. A pussy on display, tits out, is a big call come on over, and let's fuck the brains out. To prove the statement, she attached pics taken at a biker rally ... I had no further questions.
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