Tokyo Face Fuck
- 1 year ago
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The shoujo magazine’s office was a world removed from the cramped bedrooms and convention halls that Terry associated with comic production. It was on the eighteenth floor of a towering dark green office building, and staffed by the same army of cubicle-dwelling salarymen as all of the other businesses. As he passed by their workstations he noticed that every one seemed identical: computer and phone in exactly the same spot, pictures of families that all looked the same all facing at the exact same angle, and a half-finished cup of coffee sitting like an old grudge. He shivered. He supposed that these were the people in sales or finance or something along those lines – surely all of the artists were at home drawing their asses off.
He waited in a posh modern-looking room that was, despite the decor, still a waiting room. The secretary did manage to sound genuinely sorry for the delay. Terry was a little impressed.
Finally she answered the phone, listened to it in silence, and nodded to him. A lanky young woman (the previous applicant, perhaps) exited the office and Terry went in.
The editor was an old man with a rough beard and an expensive suit. The expression of surprise on his face when Terry walked in made the artist’s heart sink inside his body. Clearly Erica hadn’t mentioned that this artist friend of hers had happened to be a gaijin. Terry sat down anways, although he wasn’t hopeful.
‘Well, mister…’ The old man checked a sheet. ‘…Ozaki…’
‘It’s a pen name,’ Terry said.
‘Clearly. Well, not to worry, you’d be using a female pen name if you got hired anyway.’ He pulled a stack of papers out of a manilla envelope. Terry could see that it was a bunch of pages from School Hearts, ripped out of the doujinshi seemingly at random.
‘Um, I have other sketches if you want to see them.’ He dug into his bag and produced a folder of carefully rendered, decidedly PG sketches. He realized that his hands were shaking and desperately willed them to stop, but the rebellious appendages just kept quivering.
The old man (presumably some sort of editor) took the papers and gave them the same placid, unreadable glance that he had the more explicit drawings. ‘Do you understand the job you’re applying for, Mister Ozaki?’
‘Well, as I said, uh, actually I didn’t say but I should have, my real name is Terry Osmond. You can call me Terry, er, if you want. And Naomichi – Erika’s friend, well I guess I’m her friend too, well he didn’t say much about it.’
‘We’re launching a new series. It’s a magical girl story aimed at seven to nine year olds. We’ve already signed on a writer and editor who are working on hammering out the specifics. We also have some preliminary character designs here.’
This time it was the old man offering him a sheet of paper, on which were stencilled an army of generic-looking big-eyed little girls. It was enough to make Terry want to puke, but he held his tongue. He could work on this, but it wouldn’t be a labour of love, that was for sure. Still, it would be nice to have a real job.
‘Well, I have to say that my previous work wasn’t exactly pitched at that audience,’ Terry said with a chuckle. The man didn’t laugh. Terry adjusted his tie nervously.
‘Yes, I can see that. This is… well, I like your art style, although it’ll need to be shifted a bit more towards the house style if you do end up doing this. And you have some grasp on anatomy, which is more than I can say for most manga artists nowadays.’
‘Thank you,’ Terry said, carefully inspecting his shoes.
The interviewer returned his gaze to the School Hearts pages. ‘I have to say, it’s a shame that an artist of your calibre is reduced to drawing pornography.’
‘I don’t think of it like that.’
‘What do you mean?’
Terry had just blurted the last part out, and now he had to explain it. Great. ‘Well, it’s like, hentai is just a genre right? Like, you have shounen comics and they’re centred around fight scenes, and you have shoujo and they’re centred around romance and angst and you have hentai and it’s centred around sex. In all of that you have to give the people what they want while structuring it into some kind of narrative that makes it feel worthwhile.’
‘So you’re saying that what our magazine publishes is just like…’ He rapped a page of Sakura in explosive climax with his fingertips. ‘…this.’
‘No, I’m saying that maybe it should be.’ Terry realized he was digging himself into a deeper hole, and threw his hands up in a ‘stop’ motion. ‘I mean, I’m not saying that your comics, need to be closer to hentai, I’m just saying that hentai needs to me more like mainstream comics… I mean, you know, not just trying to be something you masturbate to, but having a story and characters as well as that more visceral appeal. That’s what I’m trying to do with School Hearts.’
‘I see.’ The old man kept staring at that page, Sakura’s hard-nippled breasts jutting out, her head twisted back in a scream of primal ecstacy. ‘Let me ask you a question, then. Do you honestly think anyone would read this, would care about this, if it didn’t have the sex? Would you?’
Terry saw his point. Take out the extensive sex scenes and the screaming climaxes and all you had was a fairly banal romantic drama, not to mention a much shorter work. ‘Well, I would hope so.’ But in his heart he knew that sex was still the draw of his comic, not the characters and certainly not the story. He had hitched his pornography to a cheap storyline, and maybe that did make it better, make the sex scenes more effective – but it didn’t make it the art he had convinced himself it was.
He suddenly thought of Mika, slurring her screams at him, babbling about him treating her like a blow-up doll. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought she had a personality. But maybe he had been thinking of her like one of the girls in his comics, where the personality was an accessory to augment their hotness, everything ultimately subservient to the sex.
‘Well, fortunately we’re not looking to hire you on as a writer.’ The old man gave him the kind of grin that always accompanied backhand insults. ‘Anyway, we’ll be in touch.’
Terry walked out of the door, his head spinning. He was trying to convince himself that the old man whose name he had never learned was wrong, that School Hearts was genuinely worthwhile as more than just titillation, but somehow it didn’t work.
—
At first no one was worried. Sakura had vanished before, and everyone was sure she had just ran off to be with Ryan or some other boy she had now become obsesed with. Only Natsumi, having seen that terrible look in Sakura’s eyes as she left the apartment, clothes wrinkled and body sticky, had a suspicion that things might not turn out well this time.
They found her body two days later, washed up on the shore of one of Odaiba’s artificial beaches. She looked hideous in death, her body bloated with water, her clothes half torn away by the force of the surf. Her waterlogged eyes stared blankly up at the cloudy sky. The coroner said it was a drowning, and declined to speculate as to how it happened. Everyone knew it though.
Her parents held a small ceremony. Natsumi attended and wept the whole way through. She wasn’t so much crying for Sakura, who was gone and could not be hurt any more, but for herself, who knew she had drowned the girl as much as if she had held her underwater herself. How could be so stupid, taking her vulnerable and betrayed best friend and thinking only of sex, thinking only of her stupid dyke crush and not what Sakura needed right then?
Natsumi’s cell phone hummed with messages of commiseration – Hayato, Yui, Rin… she didn’t respond to any of them. What was there to say?
—
It was three long, excruciating days of satying by a telephone, hoping against hope that he was going to get the call. In those three days every cup of instant ramen seemed cheaper
, the apartment walls looked to be closing in on him, and his wallet felt constantly lighter. As the money and stability of an actual legitimate industry job were jerked farther and farther away Terry desired them more and more.
In the meantime he tried to start on the sixth chapter of School Hearts, which he had decided would be the last. He could keep the story going on indefinitely, throwing in another new character or love complication every once in a while, but what would be the point? Better to wrap things up and move onto something that didn’t completely suck. But every page he tried to draw ended up in the trash-bin. His art, that basic grasp of anatomy that the old man had praised, was all skewed and the kids had hands and legs going off at weird angles and tits that looked like blobs of jelly and dicks that looked like dildos. And as far as the story went, he had no idea how to bring things to a satisfying end. In real life, of course, the story would end here – one character dead, another departed, the sacred love pentagon broken and its members cut adrift. In real life they would all be heartbroken for a couple months or years and then move on, finding new partners to obsess over and maybe marry and have a house in the suburbs and become office workers or whatever. But as an ending to a story, that didn’t feel satisfying.
Terry wondered if maybe that should be the ending – the plot not wrapping up but just kind of dispersing. It would be realistic. But then again, what about the comic had ever been realistic? The girls didn’t look realistic. The melodrama wasn’t realistic. It would be like putting a Band-Aid on a gaping chest wound.
He rolled over and looked at the published issues again. They were crap. Art-wise they barely rose above the standard half-assed manga style, and plot-wise they were a mess. He chucked the whole bunch into the recycling bin and staggered out to his kitchen. What were they going to do?
And there in the kitchen was Erika Otsuka, heading out of Naomichi’s room, buttoning up her shirt. She flushed and stared at the floor. ‘Uh… hi.’
Terry blinked several times. ‘Uh… hi.’
The second Erika slid her top button into place she grabbed her purse and rushed towards the door like it was an oasis in the desert. ‘Uh, bye. Nice seeing you.’
Curious, Terry poked his head into Naomichi’s room. He was lying on his bed shirtless and staring up in wonderment. Naomichi’s unclothed torso was certainly not easy on the eyes, but there was a kind of poetic beauty to the scene anyway.
‘You dog,’ Terry said.
‘My friend, I’ve seen heaven.’
And that was when Terry realized it. He had always viewed Naomichi as a supporting character, the comic relief in his life, the schlub that made him stand out as truly unusual, especially for his profession. But there was a story with Naomichi at its centre too, a story of long loneliness followed by unexpected romance and the joyous embrace of mutual nerdery. And he had been too self-involved to even notice it was going on.
But then again, every one of the millions in Tokyo, of the billions around the world, were the star of a story, a narrative every bit as worthwhile as anyone else’s. It was a simple, almost banal epiphany, but he thought that maybe the world would be a better place if people started paying attention to others’ stories, realized that they may only be another supporting character. Like another in a long line of perverted, uncaring boyfriends.
‘I… I have to go write,’ Terry said.
Naomichi scratched his head, looking embarassed. ‘Sorry… I’ll get dressed.’
Terry was already in his room, tearing through his papers. This was the core of the story, he was sure – all these characters completely unaware of each other, thinking of them as only bit parts in their grand narratives. But how to write a story that didn’t ultimately reaffirm that idea, a story that openly stated it was no more important than any other story? How to write the story of an entire city, an entire world, at once?
That was probably beyond his calibre right now. But he would at least finish School Hearts. Because he knew that it was cruel to leave any story incomplete. And now he knew the ending, or at least an ending.
—
It was another weekend, another party, another vacant house or apartment. It was the same people as always, gyrating and chatting and drinking. Yui was in the midst of it all, taking everything she could. Usually she stayed somewhat sober, but tonight she had never met a drink, drug, or boy that she didn’t like. At the moment she was trying to decide if she should raid the medicine cabinet that gleamed enticingly in the bathroom.
Because it all seemed so far away, that crazy manic energy of infinite possibility that always used to the accompany these parties, these celebrations of immortality that they held weekly at the least. The more she desperately strove for that kind of joy, the more it slunk away, sliding through her fingers like a lump of slime.
She had heard of Sakura’s death secondhand. It had travelled down the rumour mill like every break-up or infidelity or other stupid teenage crap they cared about for some reason. Still, Yui felt like she shouldn’t be too depressed. It was a sordid story, for sure, but it wasn’t like she had really known Sakura. A friend of a friend, a crush of a crush of a crush. So why did she feel so out of sorts?
Maybe she had just taken some bad combination of intoxicants. Her stomach lurched and she rushed towards the bathroom, shoving her way through clumps of sweaty revellers. After emptying her guts, she felt a little more clear-headed but even more miserable.
Yui flushed the toilet, rinsed the vomit taste out of her mouth, and checked herself in the mirror. She looked like a wreck. She was covered in sweat, there were heavy bags beneath her bloodshot eyes, and her roots were showing beneath her elaborately dyed hair. Her clothes were wrinkled and dishevelled. God, she looked like a homeless person.
There was an angry pounding at the bathroom door. Yui sighed and opened it, letting the next person rush in, clutching his stomach. A line had already built up for the toilet. She was about to head back into the throng searching for happy abandon again, but then she noticed who was at the end of the line. It was Natsumi with a half-full beer bottle clutched in her hand.
‘Hey,’ Yui said, offering a half-hearted wave. ‘I, uh, heard about your friend. I’m really sorry.’
Natsumi shrugged. ‘What are you sorry for?’
‘Well, I mean to say that I feel bad about it. I know how you, er, felt about her. How are you holding up?’
The look in her eyes was eviscerating. ‘How do you think I’m holding up?’
‘Right, uh, stupid question.’ Yui was at the rockiness of the conversation. ‘Look, do you want to talk about it? I can’t say I’m good at many things, but I like to think I’m a good listener.’
‘Not really. Everyone wants to talk to me about it. God, I wish they would just leave me alone.’ Apparently forgetting her pressing business in the bathroom, Natsumi turned to storm off.
Yui reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Natsumi whirled around, ready to strike. ‘Okay, okay, you do what you want, but just remember that you have friends. And you don’t have to go through this alone.’
‘You’re not my friend,’ Natsumi said under her alcohol-laden breath.
‘Well if you want me to be, I will.’
Natsumi looked slightly perplexed at the idea, but then nodded before heading away and disappearing into the crowd. Yui sighed. The hollow feeling of the party that raged around her wasn’t going away. Everyone else had genuine smiles on their face. They were happy, so why wasn’t she?
Yui pushed her way to the kitchen in search of more booze.
—
When she woke up the next morning it felt like a railroad spike had split her head open. She bolted upright, clutching at her s
weat-drenched bangs. Her stomach made her regret the sudden movement. Yui looked around. It was hard to tell, with a dim darknesss clinging to the borders of her perception, but this didn’t look like her room.
She spent entirely too long groping for a bathroom whose location she did not know. When she found it she flung herself at the toilet bowl in relief and emptied her body of all its various fluids through all available orifices. She felt a little bit better. Now, to find out where she was.
‘Hey,’ a familiar voice said, somewhere from the world beyond the bathroom door. ‘Are you okay, Yui?’
She managed to get to her feet and open the door. Hayato was standing there, dressed in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said.
‘I live here.’
‘Oh!’ Yui looked around the apartment. She couldn’t remember ever going to Hayato’s before. It was always a question of luring him out to some den of sin, not staying home and chilling out. ‘How, uh, did I get here?’
‘Uh, you showed up on my doorstep last night drunk as fuck and muttering something about Natsumi and a lame party. My dad’s on a business trip, so I let you crash in his room.’
Yui blushed. She had always thought that she had more self-control than that, that she would never be unable to remember the events of a previous night. But no matter how hard she pushed her beleaguered brain, she couldn’t make it past that conversation with Natsumi — every attempt to reach beyond that resulted in a pulse of pain. She guessed she was turning into a regular shit-show after all. ‘I’m really sorry. I had way too much…’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Hayato shrugged. ‘I did the same to you a little while ago, so it’s only fair.’ God, he looked so cute like that. How could someone who looked so plain, such a peaceful law-abiding citizen, be so attractive despite – no, because of that plainness?
Yui massaged her forehead, feeling the mother of all headaches coming on. ‘I don’t even know how I got here. Like, I don’t even know your address.’
‘I’m sure I must have told it to you once,’ said Hayato. ‘Or maybe it was just your drunken intuition. Anyway, I’m mixing up some hangover cure for you. It’s my secret recipe.’
Yui said nothing, just contemplated the swimming patterns on Hayato’s walls. Did she have anything left in her to vomit?
‘I have to make these for my dad all the time,’ Hayato said. ‘I don’t know who drinks harder – teenagers or salarymen.’
Five minutes later Yui was gulping down the fowl concoction formed by Hayato’s secret recipe. The secret recipe seemed to be grabbing random items from the fridge and cupboard and tossing them in a blender. Well, it was a recipe designed for a drunk person to follow, she supposed. By holding her nose she was able to choke it down. Well, she did feel a little less hung over, if only because the vileness on her taste buds distracted her from other sensations.
‘Thanks,’ Yui said. She realized she had reached out and was holding Hayato’s hand. ‘I can’t believe I blacked out… I mean, I don’t even remember coming here. I guess maybe I need to cut back.’
Hayato shrugged. ‘Well, uh, it’s your life. But that might be a good idea.’
‘Thank you so much for taking care of me. I mean, it was a lot more kindness than I showed you in the same situation. You’re a good guy, Hayato.’
‘It wasn’t the same situation. I was acting like an asshole.’
His hand was stroking her hair, feeling it’s hard edges, comforting like a child but also undeniably a bit like a lover. And then maybe it was the sorrow or maybe it was the left over booze but he leaned in and kissed her on the lips. They stood there, silent, in that kitchen for a short but eternal moment, taking in that warm soft feeling of flesh on flesh.
Hayato broke off from her. ‘Jeez, that really does taste like shit.’
Yui laughed. ‘Hang on, I’ll get rid of it.’ All of the queasiness and bitterness was gone, and all she wanted to do was get his arms back around her. She quick-stepped to the sink and rinsed her mouth out with a glass of water, then rushed back to Hayato.
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Tokyo Motion doesn’t sound terribly dirty on the surface, so there are a lot of plausible excuses if your wife or your boss finds the site in your browser history. You could say you were just researching the logistics of people getting from place to place in the most populated prefecture of Japan, for example, or that you thought it was a tech company specializing in conveyor belts for sushi. They’ll never guess the real reason you were visiting the site: you’re a dirty pervert with a thing for...
Asian Porn SitesJust what is Tokyo Motion? Is it a viral dance taking TikTok by storm, or is it a reference to the roughly 1,500 earthquakes that happen in Japan every year? Well, if you’re really wondering, I guess you aren’t a regular visitor here at ThePornDude. Like every other website I’m writing up, this is one designed to help you bust a fat nut into a tissue or an old gym sock. The theme today – as you’ve probably guessed – is Asian porn.I’m not talking just about any Asian porn, though, as you...
Asian Porn SitesFor the past 8 years, I've been harboring a guilty little secret, which I've never spoken to anyone about. Not to my lovers, not to my best friends, not to anyone. It's one of those secrets that's too embarrassing to tell, but too erotic to keep bottled up inside. It's something I've played over and over in my mind at least a hundred times since it happened, each time bringing back at least a little bit of the feeling I experienced that night.Recently, I've begun to discover the enjoyment of...
July 11, – July 17, 1976 Sunday. I started my day by running 3 miles and doing all of my exercises. I was getting stronger. I could feel it. I did not see a lot of muscle development, but to be honest, it’s only been a couple of weeks. I showered and dressed in a suit. Young Calvin had a habit of going to church on Sundays, and I thought I should keep going. At the very least, it gave me something to do and somewhere to be. Calvin’s church was close by, it would be in a somewhat familiar...
Abigail went over to my bed, threw off the sheets and blankets and got on all fours with her ass pooched up and turned her head to look at me. "What are you waiting for? I need your hard penis inside me, now!" I started to climb on the bed. "Socks off, first!" When I got my my socks off, I clambered up behind Abigail and bent my cock down to fit to her snatch. I was a virgin but I sure had seen enough porn to know where it went. I was wrong. "Not there, idiot. The other hole. I'm...
I was working in a local factory that employed about 1100 people. The assembly line I was on had about 110 people both men and women. This was the second factory I had worked in and it was totally different than the first. The first had only two women and the second had almost as many women as men which was good and bad. Anyway, I was just doing my job, minding my own business when a female union steward came up and started talking to the guy working next to me. They were just bullshitting,...
My plane left Paris an hour late. It was a nonstop, night flight to New York. We were on hold, apparently, for some late VIP's important enough to hold up an entire flight and screw up schedules. However, I wasn't particularly disturbed as I was in no real hurry. I also had plenty to do on my laptop, so the time passed fairly quickly for me. My seat was next to the window just two rows back from the front entrance. A bustle of activity heralded the presence of our late arrivals. One...
Some things about life are much better and easier when your father's a rich and successful senator, you don't really need to work for one thing, you have all the time and money you could ever want to indulge in whatever fun you want, others are less good, like being an only c***d in a household where your parents were never around. I was nineteen when the events of this story happened. My father, Senator Mark Feldman, had just been re-elected and was very busy all the time, some times spending...
A few days after the events recounted in the last chapter, Amanda was with Deirdre in the poky little changing room, waiting for her bout to be called. Amanda, these days, was increasingly preoccupied with her forthcoming marriage and all the problems that would have to be overcome in manufacturing an identity for a man who had materialised out of nowhere. She had been reading Freddy Forsyth's "Day of the Jackal" and had seen how comparatively easy it was to manufacture an identity. But...
I met Cindy the first week of college. She was from a small town close to the school. I was from a large city on the other side of the country. We didn’t have anything in common, but we hit it off immediately and a beautiful friendship was started. Cindy was a gorgeous girl. She was 5’ 8” and had thick, naturally blond hair. She was slim and well proportioned. I thought she was the most incredible woman I’d ever seen and was smitten instantly. But it was her personality that really drew me in....
Introduction: So this is a thing I did because of reasons. Its always the quiet ones. Like my long-time boyfriend, Oren. He was the one of the most adorably shy guys Ive ever met. In fact, the first time I saw him he reminded me of the feminine guy in a Japanese yaoi. He was slender and quiet, with a cute face, long shaggy blonde hair and big blue eyes hidden behind large thick glasses. His wardrobe was filled with sweaters that were too big for him which consequently caused him to be even more...
Is it a crime when teenaged girls flirt with middle-aged men? Stanley Jenson was often embarrassed when his daughter’s friend Kitty Jones was over at their house. She flirted and gave Stanley all kinds of compliments. She talked about sexual things and liked to get attention from Stanley. She purposely would wear short-shorts and tight shirts. She had luscious lips which she often licked but kept them shiny with clear lip gloss. She would bat her eyes and act very flirtatious. She acted much...
He grabbed her wrists as she tried to move away. "Be still, he commanded. She still struggled. Slap. He backhanded her. She caught her breath and paused for a second to measure in her mind his new aggression. "Let me go," she pleaded. "Be quiet and be still," he commanded again. "You will do as I say." She looked at him with contempt and then jerked again, hoping to free herself from his grip but without success. Slap. He slapped her again. She was startled by his violence. ...
BDSMI hated him. I hated him. I hated how good he fucked me. I hated how good his cock filled my holes. I hated how hard he could make me cum. I hated how much I loved the way he treated me. I fucking hated him.But I couldn't resist him. I did what he said, when he said, where he said. He was my weak spot, my curse.This time was no different than the others. He simply texted me "15 minutes whore". I know what that meant. He would be here in 15 minutes and fuck me senseless. He didn't care what I am...
Sean and Mickey continued to discuss their tactics for the rescue as Amanda checked Sean’s e-mail and noticed a new message from Bryce Pierre. ‘Bryce Pierre has sent out an e-mail,’ she told Sean. Do you want me to read it to you?’ ‘Yeah, let’s see what he had to say.’ Amanda started reading aloud, ‘To: All employees of Wallace Enterprises From: Bryce Pierre – Attorney at Law Subject: Insubordination As the legal representative for Wallace Enterprises and its owner Sean Wallace, I have...
It is now Saturday night. Ashley just got home from work. The first thing she notices is that Trent's truck is not in the driveway. She gets to the door, unlocking it, as she pushes it open walking inside. She kicks off her shoes, and drops her keys and purse on the table. She turns towards the stairs climbing them slowly. She reaches the bathroom turning the shower on hot. She slowly strips her sensitive body. She reaches above her head pulling her hair out as her curls fall over her...
It was summer of 2011, I was in an MBA college in pune I had a girl in my group who I liked and wanted to fuck her desperately. Opportunity came on the farewell party of our batch, I was placed and she was not, as she was upset that she won’t be a placed student at the farewell party she decided to not to attend the party. She was from Delhi and had a hot figure of 34-28-34. I just loved her figure and liked the way her boobs swayed during our outing with friends, I had grown closer to her in...
Rob spent the entire afternoon in meetings, listening to people talk about money, personnel, public relations and surprisingly, religious intolerance. There were several groups of very fanatical evangelical fundamentalists out there who saw the planned trip to Mars as a refutation of 'God's word', because of course, whoever wrote the bible two thousand years ago was not a scientist, and failed to mention Mars or spaceships. 'The bible doesn't mention bullhorns either, but that didn't...
When Denac, Lanita, and I arrived at the horse and donkey ranch is was apparent that the donkeys were not dissatisfied with their new accommodations. There were fourteen of them, and six were following the guys around while the other eight were leaning against the pen's fence to visit with the large cashda in it. Jortah came over as we dismounted. "What did you call the small ones? They don't act a bit like the larger ones do." "They are donkeys, and they are usually a little curious...
Hanna had watched the whole show. She had heard what her mother said about checking to see if she climaxed as easily. Hanna wasn't sure how she felt about that. Sure, it was exciting and she did want more experiences, but it was scary too. She didn't think her big sister was hurt but she just wasn't sure. She knew how her sister acted and what she looked like when she climaxed and it wasn't anything like Hanna had just witnessed. Hanna and her sister had masturbated together before but...
Let me introduce myself, my name is Moe. Yes, you read right, Moe. Well at least that’s what my friends call me. Frankly I’ve been called that for so long so often that I cannot really remember my real name unless I look at my driver’s license. I am not really a ladies man. In all truth, I’m the complete opposite. If I tried to pick up a lady at the bar I would crash and burn worse then the first fight of a military aircraft. My hands sweat, I turn beet red, and I sound like Porky Pig (no...
Hi everybody ! I am Dr.Arjun. From a central suburb of Mumbai.A regular reader of stories., fantacies etc. On this site. Sharing one of my experiences with u. I was attached to a well reputed hospital in a central suburb,( which was burnt to ashes by some politicaly illmotiveted people few yrs back)When I was working there,a girl used to work as one of the house keeping staff.She was very hardworking and always pleasently smilling.A neatly dressed female,who used to never complain about work...
Mai ek chote shehar me rehnewala ladka hu directly sotory pe aata hu. Bat un dino ki hai jab mai summer me apne gav jaya kerta tha. To chacha ke yaha bhi jata tha.so kuch dino ke liye mai chacha ke yaha thehra tha. Mere chacha ne do shadiya ki thi aur vo apne dusre biwi ke sath dusre gav me rehthe the. Badi chachi dusre gav me rehti thi. Badi chachi dikhane me ek sudol aurat thi bade boobs. Gadraya badan aur mudmust kerne wali gand. Pehle to mai itna akershit nahi tha. Chacha ke do ladke hai...
I was a teacher in my mid 20's and was single and loving life. I was chatting on the net in a swingers chat room for my area and met this really sexy woman named Lisa. She lived in the same city and I was so hot to meet her. In her picture she sent me I could tell already that she would be amazing. Hot blonde, blue eyes, mid 30's and totally hot body. She had one kid and a boyfriend she lived with. We chatted one night and she started begging me to come over and fuck her. I was nervous...
Group SexTowards the end of July, Crash flew to Los Angeles. There was an orientation session at the UCLA Law school, plus, he needed to find a place to live. The tour had just ended, so Liz was there to meet him. They'd both be going back to Boston after about a week-Liz needed to work on choreography with Warren and Sophie. Liz drove Crash back to her apartment, where they deliriously raced each other to her bedroom. They didn't emerge until late the next morning. The orientation, which was...
There she sat, grey-haired and stern looking like always, in the middle of the long cherry-wood table on the dais, her lips barely able to contain that self-assured smile that annoyed me so much. Behind her hung the usual silly and perversely expensive depictions of tiny angels worshipping the Lord. Left and right of her, her fellow senior sisters in their black habits waited submissively for her signal to start the meal, now that the prayer was over, and I had to struggle to contain my...
BDSMAmber was back in Lord DeGraves’ office, sitting in the single chair before it. There had been a wonderful dinner, the best she had ever eaten, and the cupcakes she had been told about were, in fact, served for dessert. She passed on them, as had been suggested to her, as had Lord DeGraves. During the dinner, everyone had been relaxed and friendly, and talked with each other like friends. Several whom she had not met introduced themselves: Dr. Sanders, Dr. Cole, Julie Richards (whom folks...
This friend of my mother had a way of talking that could be very painful to the ears. She was married with two daughters,thin and had those Droopy eyes (you know the dog from the cartoon). Basically a woman who men don't pay that much attention to. Somehow she got in her head she was all that and that she could make any one do what she wanted them to do. Of course this wasn't true at all. Men tolerated her. When she got intoxicated she was always very hands on. Not with any men. But with me.She...
I don’t know much anymore… All I can remember is that I was kidnapped in the middle of the day and dragged in this dungeon-like chamber, hidden somewhere deeply underground. I could only wonder how I was able to keep my sanity, but nonetheless, I was still sober and could think straight.I truly had no idea why I got here. Who would want to kidnap me and the main question – why? Too many questions circled around in my mind, but neither of them got any answer. This place, as I assumed, was...
Monster SexThe car—it was a small limo, I supposed from one of the local services—took me to a rather tawdry restaurant in a tiny strip mall in one of the 'burbs. Other than telling me "good evening, sir," when he held the door open for me the driver had nothing to say. I followed instructions and kept silent, too. "We're here, sir," he told me as he pulled up. "I'm afraid the restaurant seems to be closed, though. Would you like—?" "I'm being met," I said. "Thanks." I got out, and off...
Branded Cain replied to the LORD, "My punishment is too great for me to bear! You have banished me from the land and from your presence; you have made me a homeless wanderer. Anyone who finds me will kill me!" Brand: I went inside the flying building and seem them both. And I can't help but stare. Vantier. A legend from my ancestor's time, reborn. Then she was known as a warrior, a leader. Today? She's become a healer, and teacher. And Faith. A girl who is just beginning to...