The Flowering A Memoir of a Fateful Day
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.a{fill:none;stroke:gray;stroke-linecap:round;stroke-linejoin:round;stroke-width:3px;} Bottom P. Fogg: A MEMOIRPart 15Copyright© 2004 by Paris Waterman
As evening approached on that spring day, Ian took my hand and we walked in the rain. It wasn’t long before the soft showers had turned into a hardened down pour. Our bodies were quickly soaked and we sought shelter beneath a lush elm tree. Kneeling face-to-face in the wet grass, the blades gave way under our weight. Clothing became like a second skin and our hair was dripping and hung close to our heads. My breasts were visible through the saturated white silk dress that hugged my body....
My Sexual Awakening---a memoirIt was 34 years ago that I had my first sexual encounter, and it started me on a path that made me the slut I am. My parents werent real wealthy. We always had enough to eat and a place to live, but things like extra clothes and other things just werent available. In the summer i usually had nothing else to wear other than some really old cutoffs that were really tite and short from having been washed and frayed so many times. They were so short that my little butt...
My Lovely Summer of 1941: A Fictional Memoir By Katherine Day (Copyright 2006) One In the summer of 1941, when I turned 12, I found myself enjoying playing hopscotch or jacks with the girls, especially Wanda and Marilyn. Even though I was a boy, all summer, and almost every day, I was with the two girls, and it was easily the sweetest, most lovely summer of my childhood. I felt so at ease with the girls, and soon they accepted me as one of their own. We were together every day,...
Phileas Fogg's Memoir was one of the most enjoyable novels I've written. The following excerpt finds us in what is Part Three of that novel. It includes sisters masturbating and having oral sex with one another and with Mr. Fogg and a bit of voyeurism. At university the following morning I studied my fellow third year students looking for one who was truly my peer. I say this not because I'm a snob, although I may well be one. But because of the age difference and my military service,...
"...a few hours later slowly escaping from the dream, I felt like I was leaving a place I had been for years, as though I belonged there. I woke with the images still in my vision and the most sensual feeling of waves of luscious moisture rushing over my body. I continued moaning uncontrollably, my feet digging into the mattress allowing my hips to flow forward, over and over again. Realizing at that moment I was gripping something I looked down to see my daughter's eyes closed and her...
Introduction:Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, also known as Fanny Hill is a novel by John Cleland. Written in 1749, it is considered the first erotic novel, and has became a byword for the battle of censorship of erotica. Fanny's story, as she falls into prostitution and then rises to respectability, takes the form of a confession that is coloured by copious and explicit physiological details of her carnal adventures.During my visit to London for studies where we had an Old Ancestral Home, I...
What you are now reading are my memoirs of the time I spent in a pirate settlement known as Bootleg. The following tales highlight my sexual adventures during that part of my life, and explain the path that first led me into the buccaneer underground. The narrations vary greatly in content, covering everything from descriptions of romantic interludes, to orgies, to bondage scenes. I offer no apology for the contents, nor do I feel shame. Rather I am proud to have escaped the constraints of...
And so the years past with me spending more and more time at the club and less and less time with Eunice; although we did have our "special moments" together. The most eventful happening during this period was that I found myself attending Nicole's marriage at Westminster Cathedral. If anything, she was more beautiful than I remembered/ I found my eyes filled with tears as she came down the aisle on her cursed father's arm. It had been but six years since we cavorted about in the woods...
Introduction:Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, also known as Fanny Hill is a novel by John Cleland. Written in 1749, it is considered the first erotic novel, and has became a byword for the battle of censorship of erotica. Fanny's story, as she falls into prostitution and then rises to respectability, takes the form of a confession that is coloured by copious and explicit physiological details of her carnal adventures.During my visit to London for studies where we had an Old Ancestral Home, I...
Stella switched on the recording. I felt a bit uncomfortable watching my mother having sex, or was it that I was feeling jealous to see her being fucked? We saw my mother coming out of the bath room. She walked up to dad. Dad took mom into his arms and held her close to him, for a long time, enjoying the bliss of the embrace. “See brother, my dad is in no hurry. He is taking his time to feel her in his arms. Not in hurry like you.” “Shanty, all the time we dated you did not let me fuck you....
IncestHello readers, my name is Jordan Hartlind, my friends and lovers call me Jordi. I’d love to share with you a bit about me before we get too in-depth. I’m from St. Louis, Missouri where I live in a duplex with my mother. I’m a student at St. Louis Community College and work at a locally owned delivery service, that I’ll refer to as Kase Delivery Co. I’m a 20 year old, 5’11 Caucasian male with a swimmers build. I have Brunette hair and brown eyes and you may have guessed it, I’m gay. I have...
I am not about to give an opinion as to the propriety or impropriety of capital punishment. On this point good men have differed, and will differ, I dare say, for some time to come. What I wish to impress upon the reader is the horrible nature and atrocious effect of a public execution. Dolly and I were passing by Newgate a few weeks later. Twas a Sunday and outside the formidable prison a considerable crowd was gathering. There were respectable men with their wives and children staring at its...
‘It was later that evening, Madame Bentley had come and gone and Passepartout was alone in Fogg’s quarters. ‘Faith,’ muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, ‘I’ve seen people at Madame Tussaud’s as lively as my new master!’ Madame Tussaud’s ‘people,’ let it be said, are of wax, and are much visited in London, speech is all that is wanting to make them human. During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years...
I exiled myself to my residence on Saville Row, free to deal with my guilt each and every day. I read every thing I could lay my hands on. I grew a beard, shaved it off, then grew another and shaved that off as well. In no time at all a year flew by and I had not left the house at all. My housekeeper was the only person I saw or spoke with in all that time and those exchanges were brief, usually having to do with the meals for the following week. I had let my manservant go as he had little...
The Carnatic, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan. She carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers. Two state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied—those which had been engaged by Phileas Fogg. The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait, and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to totter to a seat on deck. It was Passepartout, and what had...
The rash exploit had been accomplished, and for an hour Passepartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis pressed the worthy fellow’s hand, and his master said, ‘Well done!’ which, from him, was high commendation, to which Passepartout replied that all the credit of the affair belonged to Mr. Fogg. As for him, he had only been struck with a ‘queer’ idea, and he laughed to think that for a few moments he, Passepartout, the ex-gymnast, ex-sergeant fireman, had been the spouse of a charming...
The dwellers in Saville Row would have been surprised the next day, if they had been told that Phileas Fogg had returned home. His doors and windows were still closed, no appearance of change was visible. After leaving the station, Mr. Fogg gave Passepartout instructions to purchase some provisions, and quietly went to his domicile. He bore his misfortune with his habitual tranquillity. Ruined! And by the blundering of the detective! After having steadily traversed that long journey, overcome...
Part Seventeen And so the years passed with me spending more and more time at the club and less and less time with Eunice, although we did have our ‘special moments’ together. The most eventful happening during this period was that I found myself attending Nicole’s marriage at Westminster Cathedral. If anything, she was more beautiful than I remembered. I found my eyes filled with tears as she came down the aisle on her cursed father’s arm. It had been but six years since we cavorted about in...
Many months passed after that night of nights. Dolly left my bed to embark upon the dress-making business that I prepared her for, enlightening her with a certain amount of business acumen and of course, sufficient capital to allow her to run the business without financial worry for some two years. Of course if this proved insufficient, I would gladly provide additional funds, for Dolly had been a superb companion — but like a bird whose broken wing has healed, she was ready to be set free. I...
Of course, Nicole confided in her sister Rhonda, and before I knew it her sister was flirting with me at every opportunity. But I had no intention of reciprocating her affections. Nicole and her mother were more than enough for any man. However, I was confronted with the problem of keeping the girls quiet about my actions with Nicole, to ensure no petty jealousies crept in and exposed us to either parent. For I was as certain as there is no avoiding death and taxes that Sir Baring would have me...
The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia, thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so rapid was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that time. The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for India, some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the nearest route...
The train, on leaving Great Salt Lake at Ogden, passed northward for an hour as far as Weber River, having completed nearly nine hundred miles from San Francisco. From this point it took an easterly direction towards the jagged Wahsatch Mountains. It was in the section included between this range and the Rocky Mountains that the American engineers found the most formidable difficulties in laying the road, and that the government granted a subsidy of forty-eight thousand dollars per mile,...
The detective and Passepartout met often on deck after this interview, though Fix was reserved, and did not attempt to induce his companion to divulge any more facts concerning Mr. Fogg. He caught a glimpse of that mysterious gentleman once or twice, but Mr. Fogg usually confined himself to the cabin, where he kept Aouda company, or according to his inveterate habit, took a hand at whist. Passepartout began very seriously to conjecture what strange chance kept Fix still on the route that his...
Having lived among both, I find that I prefer the working class to the nobles. They know what it is to be in need and are much quicker to help. When we docked in Bootleg, Delray took me home with him. I was another mouth to feed and another body to squeeze into cramped quarters, but I was welcomed with open arms. It was Delray's red faced, harassed mother who hit on a way for me to earn a living. She and some of the other parents in town had vague hopes of their children one day being...
I deliberated a great deal over how to tell this part of my story. I have decided to err on the side of caution and leave a discreet gap here in my history. This is not to protect myself, but to prevent causing undue pain to others, as I will presently explain. In short, they sold me into slavery. The very next morning after Andrew and I were discovered, I was aboard the same slave ship I'd seen from the observation tower the night before. Now -- things went on aboard that ship that I...
Email- [email protected] I'm looking for an assistant apply by emailing. Chapter 2 -- The Choice. Brant Everard was six months younger than I. I haven't seen him for years, but I remember him very clearly. He was tall, slender as a willow, and fair skinned. He wore his dark hair in ringlets and favored lacy collars and cuffs. With a simple handshake between my stepfather and his father, our engagement was arranged. I was livid, but my opinion was of no consequence. The...
Emily woke up feeling refreshed and excited. The best way she could describe the feeling was the way you feel on your birthday. Or maybe the last day of school, although her memories of public school were faded. Emily attended kindergarten and first grade, but about halfway through second grade, an increasing number of letters home to her parents from a frustrated teacher got her pulled out of school and her mom opted for home schooling. According to the teacher, Emily was ‘disruptive’. Yes,...
Ted pulled out of the space at the park. It was fall, but still warm out, and his car air conditioner blew cool air in his face and on his arms, and made him shiver from the evaporation of the sweat that had covered his skin. He was reveling inside at what he had just done. ‘I made a girl cum on the phone,’ he thought. ‘Not just a girl,’ he added, ‘Emily. I made Emily cum. Shit. I made a teenage girl cum just by talking to her.’ Ted felt powerful. Primal, male ego surged inside him. As he...
It all started because Emily had a cold. It was a disappointment in more ways than one. First, having a cold sucked. Nothing tasted right, everything hurt, and overall, she was miserable. Second, she loved going to Youth Group on Sundays. All of her favorite friends were there. Having been home schooled since second grade wasn’t conducive to making much of a circle of friends, so the group at Sea Coast Baptist Church was her social life. Third, today was a special Sunday, it was the first...
Ted tried to fall asleep and failed. There was just too much adrenaline. So many things were bouncing around his head, all fighting for his attention. He got up, dressed, and left the bedroom. His wife saw him from the kitchen. ‘I thought you were taking a nap.’ ‘I was, but I just realized why I couldn’t sleep. I need to finish next month’s lesson plans. You know how the CE chair gets bent out of shape if I don’t have them ready on time.’ ‘Oh…can’t you work on them here?’ ‘Normally, yeah,...
Emily’s heart was racing. ‘He said I was amazing and he said I had a beautiful smile and he flirted with me…sorta…,’ she thought. Her first impulse was to take her phone and text every girl that would care…Sierra first, of course, then Amy, Kayla, maybe even Tawny. Then she caught herself. ‘The only way they’d believe me is if I could show them, and I’m sick so they can’t come over.’ She looked back at the laptop screen, scrolling back up over the messages, and then back down to his last...
It was late fall now, and Emily and Ted had managed to find ways to see each other on a regular basis. No one had taken notice as far as either of them could tell. Neither of Emily’s parents was big on attending church, so offering her a ride to and from rehearsals for the praise band seemed perfectly natural, and gave them regular opportunities to have private conversations to plan their secret meetings. On average, they were having ‘secret dates’ about once a week. Ted always waited until...
About ten minutes ago, Emily did something very out of character for someone so introverted. She’d never figure out what gave her the courage, but she’d sent Ted a text. He replied almost immediately, and they began talking comfortably, as if they’d been friends for years. More than friends, actually. The conversation had quickly gone down a path she never thought she’d discuss so freely with an adult in a text conversation. Not to say she wasn’t enjoying it immensely, she found herself...
‘This is my thinking tree,’ said Ted, as he knelt down on the jacket. ‘Let me show you how it works.’ Emily knelt next to him, and he sat with his back against the old tree. Knees bent, he spread his legs and invited her to sit, and lean back against his chest. Emily didn’t hesitate, and lay back against him, leaning to one side so she could see his face. She’d never been this close to Ted’s face, and craned her neck and studied it. She saw the stubble that was always there, even on Sunday...
Emily cycled through all her MySpace friends’ pages, as well as the ones Ted operated. There were still no videos from the morning worship service. ‘Ted.’ She called him that in her head and it was fine, but she didn’t have the nerve to do it at church, so he was always ‘Mister Ted’ in public. It’s not that she didn’t want to, but she thought it was too familiar. Most of the other girls called him Ted, but she couldn’t bring herself to cross that line, not yet anyway. Kayla’s page was full of...
HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARK by Rumple Foreskin note: This is not a work of fiction. Only the names have been changed to protect the author from divorce lawyers and/or para-medics. It was a seductively beautiful Sunday afternoon in Central Park. Around the edge of a small, remote meadow, leaf covered trees, their limbs swaying gently in a light breeze, muffled the sound of distant city traffic. By some miracle, there were no portable radios blaring. The loudest noise came from squirrels and...
I’ve always loved you, so damn much. Maybe when you were born, when you stole the spotlight from me, the new little baby in our family, maybe then I had some contempt for you. But your toothless smile grew on me. I’d been alone in the world, and I was scared of the change, of having another person so involved in my life, of no longer being the focus of the house. Quickly though, I found that I wanted nothing more than to explore the world with you, the same one that you had invaded so suddenly....
IncestMy heart flutters as I hear him call out, "Blow me, Slut!" I love serving my Sir. I run from my room. My tits bounce and sway as each foot lightly hits the floor. I enter the dark chambers and my pussy tingles. My Sir is a beautiful vision laying on his bed. His cock is thick and hard and it looks like it is ready to be sucked. I slowly walk over to him, unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my tits. Each nipple is hard with anticipation. "Permission to sit up on your bed, Sir," I whisper as I bow...
Oral SexFriends, you are reading this sex story on indiansexstories dot net There I am. Unexpectedly. But yes! Let’s track this from the beginning. I am Kushagra, an introverted, simple guy living in Kolkata. I am 23 years old blessed with a decent organ. After completing my degree, I got a job here and rented an apartment. My apartment is situated inside a society, so there are many blocks. She lived in the same block as mine on a different floor. I live on the fourth floor. The building has five. I...
Hi all of indian sex stories dot net This is my fortunate experience happened recently which any red hot blooded young men long for. Many may not believe this but this is a real incident. This is between me and Deepa Sharma, a trainee in one of the reputed company. I am Anil, a school teacher. Even though I had gone through so many experiences throughout my last 8 years of a teaching career, this one is entirely different. I was staying in a Duplex with my friend for the last 3 years. But I...
The flashbacks of us making love, makes me wet and horny. I am always ready to serve you, but the smell,presence, and your voice is missing. I know its wrong for us to meet up, but the more wrong it is the more turn on it became to me. This feeling makes me morn for your touch, everything just turn right to me that moment. The inner lust for you cock over took myself cautious. I would love to take your cock deep inside my throat again, the gag from taking your cock deep in my air hole,while you...
HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARKby Rumple Foreskinnote: This is not a work of fiction. Only the names have been changed to protect the author from divorce lawyers and/or para-medics.It was a seductively beautiful Sunday afternoon in Central Park. Around the edge of a small, remote meadow, leaf covered trees, their limbs swaying gently in a light breeze, muffled the sound of distant city traffic. By some miracle, there were no portable radios blaring. The loudest noise came from squirrels and pigeons...
MasturbationI am awake now. The long green curtains are still drawn yet I can see behind them that it is daylight now. Morning. Early.I am naked and lying on the top of the covers of the double bed - her bed.I move my head slowly to the left and see that she is still asleep with her long, thick and curly chestnut hair splayed out on the pillow. She is naked too.I run my eyes, feeling kind of like a voyeur and a little guiltily, over the exposed flesh of her body which is half-turned towards me.Her head is...
Reader, I will fail you. You want something from me, and I don’t have it. Maybe you want to cum, and you think I will help you, but I couldn’t care less about helping you finish. If that’s why you’re here, well, you’ll be edging the whole way through. Stop. You don’t want this. And if you’re looking for an entertaining piece of writing, you’re clearly barking up the wrong tree. You will quickly come to the crystalline conclusion that I am in dire need of an editor. The truth is... I’m using...
By: AWC Just pushing the Penis in the pussy or an ass and then fucking as best and as long, as lustily before releasing the juices for each other is not even half the story of sex. Nicholas Rudders had been having sex for many, many years and he was known to all his friends as the Maestro of this trade. They all knew that there was not a girl or a boy in town, who would dare deny Nick for being under him after seeing his sex pole for the pure and selfish sexual episode of satisfying Nick’s...
If you've never had a weasel hack your hand off, steal your jewelry, and condemn you to spend thousands of years roaming as an impotent, disembodied spirit, let me clue you in: it doesn't beat torturing your enemies, their families, and their neighbors slowly to death in terms of entertainment value. I should have known better than to back the little weasels in a corner and then go toe-to-toe with them. I could have just had the damn mountain flip upside down on Isildur for crying out loud,...
This then is my life from my viewpoint. At least that part of which I wish to retain for the rest of my days which are not all that many, I am sure. I was born in London in the spring of 1834. I had four brothers and three sisters and it happened that I was the fifth of the lot and the only one alive by the end of 1854. Life was hard. My parents tried to give us all an honest upbringing and decent education but could not compete with the likes of cholera, influenza and tuberculosis all so...
I am, sir," Dorian Gray went on, "a gentleman who has sold his very soul for a very foolish purpose -- to keep my youth and beauty." "Oh, come sir do you expect me to believe..." I stopped, clamping my lips shut remembering the events of the last hour. "I see you recall the rather strange sight of me being dashed against the pavement and run over rough-shod by the carriage, eh?" I could barely nod my agreement. He casually poured himself another brandy and offered me more of the...
At university the following morning I studied my fellow third year students looking for one who was truly my peer. I say this not because I'm a snob, although I may well be one. But because of the age difference and my military service, both of which have caused me to be more mature physically and mentally then they. Not only did I not find one among them that I thought might make a worthwhile contribution to my sexual dilemma; but I reached a decision in the process of examining them and...
October 1857 Several months passed quickly and I had all but forgotten the Mooring sisters. Still I had not had any but the slightest intimacies with a female of any age since that last afternoon of carnal wantonness. I concerned myself with getting my home in order, going to Sotheby's on a weekly basis and picking up excellent pieces, both of art and furniture and appliances. Finally, with the house fully furnished and both a housekeeper and servant hired, I decided it was time to look...
Doll, using her dainty left hand, gently stroked the length of my prick and on reaching it's zenith, spied a droplet of my seed appear at the tip. I pursed my lips and waited tensely to see what would transpire. I say this because women tend to react differently to the actions of a man's prick. While almost all but the most jaded are somewhat fascinated by this wondrous instrument, they go about handling one differently. That Dolly was no stranger to a man's pride and joy was evident from...
And so it came to be that Dolly moved into Number 7 Saville Row with me. Neither the housekeeper, nor the manservant raised an eyebrow over it for which I was exceedingly grateful. Now I had done some introspective thinking around this time and concluded that I was not a very outgoing personage. I had few, if any friends. I had but few acquaintances; and worse I was perfectly comfortable with the situation. With Dolly as my daily and evening companion my sex life was more than enjoyable. For...
I am not about to give an opinion as to the propriety or impropriety of capital punishment. On this point good men have differed, and will differ, I dare say, for some time to come. What I wish to impress upon the reader is the horrible nature and atrocious effect of a public execution. Dolly and I were passing by Newgate a few weeks later. Twas a Sunday and outside the formidable prison a considerable crowd was gathering. There were respectable men with their wives and children staring at...
That evening, following supper, Baring revealed his ulterior motive. The man was a complete cad. It goes without saying that he had a fixation on seducing young girls, but he now correctly assumed that I had one as well. "Mr. Fogg," said he, "let us get down to brass tacks, shall we?" "You have my undivided attention, sir," I said looking him in the eye. "You are aware that I have a... shall we say, propensity for young women. The younger the better, but not so young as you might...
On arriving the following day, I was greeted by Abigail Courtney Baring who provided me with a tour of their sumptuous home and grounds as a pretext in meeting her eldest daughter, Nicole. We found her in the music room. It was a high-ceilinged room containing a grand piano and decorated with wall paintings of satyrs and nymphs romping through a garden, very much like the one around the house, and accompanied by fawns playing pan pipes. The windows, which the paintings surrounded, looked out...
"I truly believe I love you Abigail." "I love you too, Phileas. Now, please tell me why my husband has you here as his guest?" I was silent for a moment, thinking furiously. Then I began to tell her a blatantly concocted tale designed the turn her against Sir Baring and grant me leeway to her daughter Nicole. Knowing that the best of lies are as truthful as possible, I began thusly: "Dearest Abigail, your husband is a very wealthy man. I myself am not poor, but he has it within his...
When Abigail left me, I decided to proceed with my seduction of Nicole even though it filled me with guilt and a certain dread of what would surely follow. A few minutes before ten, Nicole knocked on my door and inquired if I wanted some tea. Opening the door I found the scamp had it there with her on a tray. She smiled and then giggled, then said with a humorous sagacity far beyond her years, "Tis for our walk, Mr. Fogg." "Fuel?" I inquired innocently, knowing she meant to fill my...