Looking For Gentry (part 5) free porn video

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He was still waiting. I'd barely turned the car into her driveway, and he out his door and halfway across the street. "Ladies," he called. "A word?" I felt Bobbie tense beside me. He stared at her a moment, then she turned her back. "I'm tired, I have things to do," she said. "Bobbie," I whispered. "Stay if you want," she said. "I don't care." His hand lay on my elbow now, I couldn't say how it'd been there. "That's fine," he said. "We won't be long." She snorted and stalked up the stairs. He reached now for my other arm, gently pulled me round to face him. "You're looking nice," he said. "It's worth the wait." "Have you been waiting?" "Mmm," he said. "A little while. It's OK, I spend a lot of time just waiting." "It must get boring." "Depends on who you're waiting for," he said. We let that hang there for a moment. So here we are again, I thought. The empty street, the wall of dunes and sea beyond. The purpling sky. "My mother told me, watch out for strangers, lurking in a car," I said at last. "And I'm a stranger now?" he smiled. I didn't know what I should say. He held me still, both wrists, quite gently, but I felt powerless to break free from his grip. I wasn't scared -- I told myself I wasn't scared -- and yet I felt on the edge of spinning into danger. "I need to talk to you, it's strictly business," he said, his eyes still fixed on mine. "I waited here all afternoon, because we need to talk." "I'm sorry," I murmured. "No sorries needed. You didn't know. It's what I'm paid to do." "A stakeout?" I thought a giggle would help here, but I couldn't get it out. "Are you a cop?" He raised his eyebrows just a bit, and smiled. "Call me a fixer," he said. "I think for now, that's best." He gave my arms a gentle tug, and nodded at his car. "Come on," he said. "I know a place. We'll talk." He kept his hand on mine most of the way, as if he thought I'd fly away, or something. The place was 'way in empty, downtown Norfolk, abandoned for the weekend by the bankers and the lawyers, a long block from the glassed- in greenhouse on the wharf-side, with its shops and restaurants for tourists. The restaurant that he led me to was one of those stuffy, pricey places at the bottom of a high-rise hotel, dark wooden panels on the walls and red- shaded lamps to keep it dim. It tried too hard for an elegance that never would be there; a place meant for out-of-town executives in a hurry. They weren't in evidence tonight. Only a sleepy waiter, nodding by the register. "So you're looking for Dickie Gentry," he said, once the waiter sloped off with our order. I shrugged. I wanted him to talk. We tried to wait each other out, again. "You're not his wife," he said, after a painful pause. A sudden little shock. His wife? Me? No, I'm a ... "I've seen the pictures," he continued. "A looker. Not that you aren't, yourself. Are you a friend, perhaps? I kind of doubt he has a friend like you. Not if he hangs out in that bar." I took a breath to quiet down, and let the little secretary step in to help. "And how about you?" I asked. "Are you his friend?" I tried the knowing little dip of voice he'd used, when asking me the night before about Bobbie. "What do you think?" He grinned. "I'd like to think you have a little sense of that yourself." "You're not a friend then." "I don't think he has many, truth to tell. But no, I'm not his friend. Nor yet his friend," the leering tone again. "I'm looking because someone asked me to. How about you?" I'd thought about this some, the night before, on Bobbie's sofa, trying to settle in to this new person I was playing; if I was playing. Was I playing? "A little adventure," I shrugged, and paused. True enough, anyway. He smiled, just a little. And kept waiting. "My boss needed to find him," I said. "I thought, a three-day weekend on the Beach, why not? Beats typing up another brief." "But why the Beach?" I'd thought about this some, as well. "I called the bank already, of course. Left a message at his home," I said. "That's usually what we do, a routine thing like this. He'll probably call back on Monday, Tuesday." He waited. I let him play me, think he played me. "He'll call, I'll connect him to my boss. And then, that's it. I'd like to do a little more, that's all. The accident was down here, maybe I can trace him here. It was a slow week, my boss thought it was cute that I wanted to try." "Nancy Drew, girl detective?" He smirked, just as I'd pictured my imaginary lawyer doing. I bite back a flash of irritation. "What accident?" he asked. "A month ago, six weeks," I said, hoping he would not check the lie, suddenly seeing how dangerous it could become. "He was a witness, told the police our guy ran a red, down on Atlantic. Not all that big a deal, really." That got his interest. He pulled a little notebook from his jacket pocket, jotted a word or two. "I didn't make him here, a month ago," he said. "That's interesting. So why that bar?" "Found the receipt in his car." "His car?" "Sure," I said. "Of course, I called the police here, gave them his plate, asked what they had. I struck out on the Beach, but got lucky in Norfolk. They'd towed the car, he'd left it by a bar up there in Ocean View. That's when I asked my boss if I could look around down here." "Not bad," he said. "Not bad at all. He must have been impressed." I tried a giggle. "I didn't tell him, silly," I said. "He doesn't want me doing stuff like this; he needs a secretary. If I get lucky here, he'll never think to find out why. I'm just a secretary, after all. A silly little girl. This weekend, that's just Freddie playing big shot. A favor given means a favor can be asked." "Freddie?" "That's his name," I said. "Are you, um?" I laughed, pushed a little dismissive wave across the table. "Don't tell that you're jealous," I said, starting to enjoy myself -- and trying all the same of how to get him off the track I'd led him to with my carelessness. Or maybe, and, hard to admit this to myself, wanting to hook his full attention. "Of Freddie? Well, maybe that's not funny, if you've never met him. "Still, nice work," he said. "Nice work." I preened a bit. I'd told him way too much already, but I was having fun, letting my little secretary enjoy her bragging, sip her wine too fast. And then I thought, I'd throw him something else, something that might even be true. "That's not all," I said. "I went to check his car. And found this." I handed Chet the note. He read it slowly, frowned. I lowered my voice, time for a little melodrama: "I think maybe..." He cut me off. "A good guess," he said. "I'll show you, if you're interested, some stuff that makes it a very good guess. But Gentry's still alive. No question." I nearly slipped, got too intense. I took a sip of wine I really didn't need, leaned back and waited. "Gentry picked up his car today, from Norfolk impound." he said. He smiled a second at me. "I guess you were a day or two ahead of me." "You know it's him?" I asked, my tone as light as I could fake it. He nodded. "Signed the form, I saw it. Paid his hundred bucks and gone." "And you're sure someone didn't do it for him?" "They're pretty tight down there," he said. "They want to see your license, see the cash. It was him. No question." We sat a while, watched the waiter clear the plates. I thought I'd played things badly; told him pretty much everything I safely could to distract from a lie that could have exposed me. But what I traded for just left a question that I had no idea how to answer: I knew who picked up Gentry's car -- I was pretty sure I knew who picked up Gentry's car. I needed now to scramble to be sure. And to beat Chet there. I knew if Chet started tracing down that trail, trying to find Gentry, he'd end up back with me, back with guy hired to do a job, a guy who wore a dress. I wasn't sure how that would go, but there were lots of ways I knew it could go badly. I wondered if I could steer him away, to give me space to work my case, and space for other things I needed to explore right now. I tried to guess if what he knew could move me farther. I worried what would happen if I didn't try to break away and leave right now. I looked at him. He looked at me. We waited for the next move. And it was this: He reached across the table, laid his hand over mine. "You're pretty good," he murmured. "Maybe you can help me out, maybe I can help you some. Like I said, I know a bit about our Mr. Gentry. I've got my stuff upstairs. You want to see?" I shouldn't. I knew I shouldn't. That's swimming out a bit too far. But I just nodded. He nodded, too, and led me out. The clicking of my heels echoed off the marble floor, I felt my dress swing as I quick-marched to keep up with him. Our reflections flashed in gold-tinted mirrors. Despite the deep red walls the empty space felt bright-lit, exposed. Waiting with him by the brass doors of the elevators, I told myself to turn, and go, that going to his room led to just one destination. You know what's going to happen, I told myself. You know. A chime. The brass doors opened. He stepped in. I followed. Down a long corridor, that near-burnt electric smell of too much vacuuming. A line of numbered doors shut tight. Then his. He had a stack of papers on the table by the window, some file folders on the armchair. He swept them off, pulled out the chair for me. I sat, knees pressed tight, back rigid. Tried not to fuss with the hem of my dress, or touch my hair. He stood behind me. "Gentry's an interesting guy," he said. "Take a look, see for yourself." He handed me a stapled, three-page letter. "Carolina P.O. -- probation officer ..." "I know," I muttered, reading fast. "Look close," he said. A sheriff down near Fayetteville had stopped him, found some dope in his car. The judge wanted to check up on a record; it didn't look like too heavy a charge, just police court. Gentry wasn't clean, but wasn't a heavy hitter, either. Bad checks, really. Two Carolina charges, one dismissed, one suspended. A juvie charge, it looked, from West Virginia. An old one. The date looked wrong; it would have put him over 40. I flipped back to the first page, to check the date of birth. "The date's not right," I said. "No," he replied, "Look again." I'm bad with phone numbers, never sure I get my own Social Security number right when filling out a form, but the P.O. seemed to have Gentry's down, from what I could remember. Then I saw it: The name was Robert Gentry. "It's someone else," I said. "What's the point of this?" He leaned over me, looming on the fringes of my vision, and reached to grab another piece of paper, handed it to me. He didn't straighten back up, his body blocked the lamplight. "Birth certificate," I said, scanning fast. "OK. Robert Gentry. Looks like he's 39, 40." "Now look at this," he said. He leaned low --closer this time -- handed me another copy of the paper. "Look closely," he said. "Check the date." It was Robert Gentry's certificate, dated five years later; a two was now a seven. "So who's this Robert?" I asked. "I'm looking for Richard Gentry." Another paper: Virginia marriage license. Robert R. Gentry. Joan Holland Smith -- Mrs Gentry was a Smith, I now remembered. Uncle Jim was James P. Holland, M.D., small town big shot. Member of the bank board. Signature on my retainer check. Another paper: R. Richard Gentry, B.S., finance, Class-of-when-a-34-year- old gets out of college. "That one doesn't check out," he said. "Just in case you're curious." The documents were all copies, naturally. The originals, all but the first certificate, were back in Gentry's home, or maybe in his office: Mrs. Gentry only let me take a glance or two, enough to recognize what I was seeing now. Chet had access somewhere where Gentry had sent the copies. Heavy duty access: passport file, job application. Access to the kind of records check I'd have to ask a contact with the cops to run, if I had a contact connected enough. "Who are you?" I asked. "What's your interest in Gentry?" He shrugged. "Let's say he owes someone a lot of money." He propped a hand, palm down, on the table, I saw his forearm muscles tense, taking his weight. Felt him looming, waiting. "And you're the guy who breaks the kneecaps?" I tried not to squeak, to sound as scared as I was becoming, aware, to think how big he was, how thick his arm beside my face. He laughed at that. I couldn't see his face, he was still behind me. I tried to edge the chair back, he didn't take the hint. After a long minute, I heard him sigh. "OK," he said. "I'm not going to tell you much. I'll tell you this: It's nice to know a banker if you need to launder money. It's not necessarily nice to be the banker. Gentry's in a lot of trouble -- not just from me, I don't break kneecaps. Not literally. Like I said, I'm an accountant. Maybe a little more. But I'm with the good guys." "FBI?" I asked. "Treasury?" "Well, you know, I don't think I'm going to say right now. Official, unofficial; with this stuff, it doesn't really matter," he said. "Let's just say I'm part of the mileau." He straightened up at last, let me slid the chair a bit, gave me a hand. "You could be too, you know," he said. "Give me call, you ever get up to D.C." I stood, one hand still in his, and waited. "You don't need to be typing briefs forever," he said. "You can live a little larger, do more things than that. I think you may have what it takes; you'll never know, though, till you jump. You wanted a little adventure, and so you went out. Like it? Want adventure?" He pulled me slowly towards him. "Ready?" I felt myself sink in his arms, my body pressed to his. He slid an arm down to my lower back, the other, just below my shoulders, held me close. I lifted up my face, he bent his down. I felt his lips brush mine, then lightly kiss my cheek, touch one closed eye, the other, and my lips again. He retreated, just a fraction of a nothing much. I advanced. Our lips touched. Something seemed to melt, my mouth eased open, I felt his tongue, I touched it, let him push into my mouth. I felt a glow rising up from my belly, and raised my hands, one just behind each of his ears, to keep him there. He stayed. Both arms now round my waist to hold me even closer, my hand deep in his hair, holding his face to mine. A tiny moan: whose, I couldn't say. And so, hearts pound, skin warms, blood flows. The middle of a kiss is not the time for looking, clear-eyed, at one another. Not the time to say I'm not sure I really like this guy, not the time to wonder what's that pressing on your belly. Not the time to ask yourself what on earth you're doing. Or with who. So what comes next flows easily from what's happening right now. Not even a sudden cool, a tiny draft below your neck, the scratchy little buzz of zipper being pulled. A long sound, my zipper, not his. My hands fall to my side, he slides my dress down. I step free, he bends to pick it up, and lays it neatly on the chair. I stand there in my slip, watch him look me up and down, see his hands rise and undo the top button of his shirt. I know, somewhere down deep inside me, it's time to jump back into safety. Another button. He's watching me. Another. It's just a little step I need to take now. To turn, to maybe blush, an awkward moment, maybe more, but then it's over. Just a little step to take. A little one. I step. I lay a hand above his heart. I feel its heavy beat underneath my palm. I smell a tang, a long day in the sun, the salt air, a smell of musk. He's holding still now, watching. I trace a little circle with my palm, another. I feel how firm his muscles are, and how he fills his skin, almost to bursting, tracing my widening circles on his chest, and now his stomach. His shirt has fallen off now: Did he, did I? He steps to me. Lips bush again. Retreat. Advance. His tongue, again. His hands slide on my slip, mine on his stomach, hard and warm. My fingers scrape his trouser waist. Once. Twice. Then slip below. I'd felt him already, belly pressed to belly. In the hot, close space, my fingers trace the length of him, root to tip and back. I feel his velvet skin, the hard shaft just before. My fingers circle round. I feet him shiver. He kisses, harder now. His tongue probes deep. Enclosed within his arms, I feel him press still closer. Want him still closer. My other hand undoes a button, zipper. I tug, now both hands tug. I feel his arms lift for just a second from my back; kneeling slowly, I ease his trousers down with me as I sink. For moment, a long moment, I just kneel and look. I'm in a place I'd never been before. A day ago, a week ago, a lifetime past, if I'd have thought of it at all, it would have been my pants piled on the floor, a girl I'd just picked up poised on her knees before me, the hot purple-brown pillar of me in her hands, there by her red, now-parting lips. The man I used to be could never have imagined being there or what was bound to happen. Kneeling there, satin rustling as I bend closer, hair lightly brushing shoulders, shivering a little in a new skin, the glow within suffusing me, I could imagine nothing else. I lightly touch my lips to the very tip of him. Somewhere deep inside I hear a tiny, fading voice cry no, and no, before it dies away. My hand slides to the root of him, and just below; what dangles there now gently captured, mine to hold. I bend still closer, felt the length of him brush my cheek, a little scared still. The circle of my index finger, thumb, the tips just touching, stroke up, stroke down; I bend to follow, down and down. I graze a moment in his hair, and with a tiny flush of courage, dare to let my tongue ease farther out, until it touches. And so again I trace him, root to tip. And once again, and once again. And still I know this new me needs something more. As I had thrilled, when his arms slid along my satin, to be enclosed by him, I need, too, now to enclose him, to feel him inside this new skin I wore, the heat of him, the throbbing. My tongue traces him to the tip once more, and just as if relaxing for his deepening kisses not that long ago, my lips slow ease apart, and hold him. Then I slowly take him deeper, slowly let him mostly free. And once again. This time I let him slip from me, ease my head back just an inch or two to look again. I kissed, my tongue dances a tiny circle. Again my lips part and I sink into his heat. A moan. His? Mine? A shivering. A pounding heart . Again, and once again. A shudder. I hold him deep inside, my hands trace frantic circles on his hips, his belly, his butt. This time the moan is mine. I felt him push, he's moving now, we're moving together. I can't stop now to think what I am doing, he can't stop now. It's just too late. I feel the urgent pumping, then the musty, salty flood. I have to swallow, if I am to try to fill the hollow space inside that drives me now. If I am to breathe. to be continued

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Peggy Sanford a Worldly Woman Ch 05

Author’s note: I had planned to take a break from writing and submitting stories to Literotica when I reached 300 submissions. I know I said that when I reached 100 and again when I reached 200 submissions but many of you loyal readers asked me to continue. Many of you also sent me story lines and topics to write about, some more detailed than others. Recently I received an e-mail from Peggy Sanford who has written several stories for Literotica and if you have a Literotica log-in and...

3 years ago
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Stepford Brothers Change to Sisters

Stepford brothers (change to sisters!) By bojok71 Author's notes: this story serves to plug a hole, in my view, of the credibility of the Stepford stories. What if someone came looking for a lost relative? The answer is simple, and forms part of this story. Story notes: this story is very close, for obvious reasons, to the original Stepford story. However, it's new enough to be considered a new read. It's as sexual and interesting as my other stories. Thanks again to Sarah Barndt for...

2 years ago
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Forrest Part 2 Chapter 3

The next morning Forrest woke up at about 10 and woke me with a kiss on the lips. I surprised him by throwing my arms around him and deepening the kiss. I reached down under the covers and grabbed his balls. I played with them as I felt his dick start to harden. He did the same to me, squeezing my balls and moving them around in my loose sack, causing my dick to harden. Without a word, I grabbed my cloths and beckoned for him to do the same. After checking that his sister was still...

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Forrest

We waved bye to Forrest’s and my parents as they drove off. It was summer break and they would be gone for several days. My friend Forrest and his 9 year old sister, Scout, were staying at my house for the time they were gone. None of our parents wanted us to be home alone, but they were fine if we were together. I was 15 and Forrest was 14, but he looks 10 or 11. I live in the middle of nowhere, but we found plenty of things to do during the day, but my favorite time was at night. My...

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Further Tales of Peggy Sanford Ch 12

Peggy Sanford stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby of the Roosevelt New Orleans Hotel. As she walked across the lobby she noticed several males obviously checking her out. She smiled to herself as she walked across the long spacious lobby. It always pleased Peggy that she could still attract such attention. Not that she should be surprised, for a married mother of two in her late forties, Peggy was still a very beautiful woman. Her long brown hair framed a face that belied her age,...

3 years ago
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Mrs Sanford

It was the summer before my second year of high school when I got a call from Darci Smith asking me to meet her at the high school the next day to help her clean out the costume room. Now Darci is the drama club teacher and the art teacher. Every guy in the school wants to fuck her and masterbates to her. Darci is in her early thirties, married, and looks like she is still twenty one. She has nice mid size tits, a fine ass, big blue eyes and blonde hair. She has a pert little hard body and...

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Mr Forrester

"There's a man here to see you, Mr. Forrester; he says he's a detective from the Denver Police Force." Oh-oh, thought John. "Ok, send him in, Angela." "Hello, Mr Forrester; my name is Paul Donohue, I'm a detective from the Denver Police Force." "What can I do for you, Detective Donohue?" as I pressed the intercom so Angela could listen in discreetly out at her desk. "Well, Mr. Forrester, sometime last year I was handed a case in Denver that has us all baffled. It seems that two...

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Stepford Househusbands Chapters 13

Chapter 1 Stephen sighed as he watched the world go by. "I still don't see why we have to move," he told his wife as he turned to look at her. "Because honey, the company is opening a new store in Stepford and they asked me to run it," Emily replied, not taking her eyes off the road. "Besides, the offer was too good to turn down and the house came as part of the job," Emily continued. "I'd thought that you'd be proud of me," she added. "And I am. Really," Stephen added as his wife...

1 year ago
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The Foremans Foreskin

I had been working in the construction industry a week when the foreman called me to his office. As I made my way over I wondered what I could have done wrong. As it had gone clocking off time I was annoyed that the meeting would be eating in to my free time. 'Aah, come in.' he said as I stepped through the door. 'Have a seat.' His office was much neater than I thought it would be. As I looked around the room I noticed that there were no girlie pictures like I had seen plastered up everywhere...

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Meeting at Bedford Mills

Meeting at Bedford MillsI had often thought about my friend Simone in the years since we had been at school together. After I graduated, I had moved to New York to pursue my career and with a husband and children, I had lost touch with Simone, but I knew that she had married a rich man whom she had met at college, and that they lived in Greenwich, Connecticut, but they had no children. I had also heard from other former classmates who had met her, that she had a glamorous lifestyle, with...

1 year ago
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The CollectorChapter 2 Welcome to Chelmsford Hall

Mary Pilson knew that her ‘uncle’ Walter was grooming her. ‘Uncle’ was a silly term that Mary’s mother used to describe the men who moved into their home to take advantage. Mary had no time for her uncles; she saw them for what they were, parasites and users. Mary’s mother could hardly make ends meet working as an usherette at the local cinema. Her good looks, curvy body and long legs ensured that she was well tipped by the male customers but she also attracted the sharks. Mary mostly...

2 years ago
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The United Kingdom of Zoo A fake BBC documentary seriess8e18 Sylvia Distin 55 from Chelmsford

We’re cruising along a wide and quiet suburban street. Green lawns stretch back from the pavement to the nice semi-detached homes. There’s a slim woman walking a large dog along the side of the road, and we pan around to look at her as we pass – it’s no-one we know, but we kind of wish we did! Then we’re looking forward again – seeing an intersection infront of us ... Then pulling up, looking out of the side window right at a single story, flat-roofed building. A sign outside reads,...

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Tesss Transformations Life of the Party

Tess's Transformations: Life of the Party By Julie O. Edited by Amelia R. Chapter 1 "So, do you have your costume picked out yet for the boss's costume party, Jack?" asked Chris Washington, a tall muscular man with short black hair. He was thirty-two and was the department head for thirty employees at Chambers Industries. "It's still a week away," replied Jack Easton as he turned around in his chair to look at his supervisor who had just entered his cubicle. Jack was...

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A WellLived Life Book 6 Kara IChapter 9 A Trip to Milford Part I

September 1981, Milford, Ohio Friday was routine until lunchtime. Afternoon classes had been canceled for both Elyse and me because of the Labor Day weekend, so I drove back to the apartment instead of having lunch on campus. Elyse and I packed our overnight bags and waited for Kathy and Bethany, who arrived as planned, and we left Chicago just before 4:00pm. It was my goal to make the trip to Milford in just under five and a half hours, which I could do if we grabbed fast food on the way...

2 years ago
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Further Tales of Peggy Sanford Ch 13

It was the electronic chirp of a cellphone text message that first stirred Peggy Sanford from a state of excessive alcohol and strenuous sexual activity induced sleep to a state of semi-conscious awareness. The first thing she recognized was that she was not the only one lying in the bed. She felt the warm embrace of a delicate arm draped across her chest, a set of soft full breasts pressing up against her back, a smooth hairless pelvis nuzzled up against her buttocks and a tone fit leg...

3 years ago
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Further Tales of Peggy Sanford Ch 01

Author’s Note: These stories are a continuation of member/author Walterio’s excellent 12 part series, Peggy Sanford a Worldly Woman and his extra story Peggy Sanford and the Secret Society. After I read his stories all I could think was ‘That was hot! I wish I was her.’ Walterio wrote these in response to member/author Peggy46’s invitation to anyone to continue or add to the stories that she wrote about herself and her wild sex life. I tried to fill in enough background information to make this...

4 years ago
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Earths CoreChapter 36 Formations

“Thank you ... Zax”. A middle aged woman with a combed black hair and a bit of weight around her waist walked toward him with hands down and holding one another. “You shouldn’t, Mrs. Inoki “. Zax shook his head. The woman was the mother of his childhood friends, Weysey Inoki. Mrs. Inoki came to stand beside him, but her view was on the large group of children having the time of their life fighting the living snowmen. “Our home is at the periphery of us, newcomers’ huts. The hut next to us...

3 years ago
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The Bradford Family Saga Part 1

Through her wide open legs she watched the last drops of her morning piss cling to her silky blonde pussy-hair, then drop into the bowl. She stretched and yawned, willing her reluctant body awake. "Mike?" she called. "Yeah?" her husband answered, pushing the bathroom door open. "Well, aren't you a pretty sight?" he said. "Look, who's talking. You look as bad as I feel," she said with a smile. Her husband was naked except for a towel around his mid-section, his flaccid...

1 year ago
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CynthiaChapter 15 Bradford

Sarah and I communicated well when she had time for conversation, often after her shift was over. She made it clear that she liked me as more than just a patient, and in addition to liking her, I found myself lusting for her constantly. It wasn't so bad in the mountains when there were no distractions, but to see it around me every day flamed my desire. She caught up with me while I was in physical therapy. After a couple of cheers, she said, "I got her cell phone. I'll see you...

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Adventures of a Greenie Off Planet Vol 2Chapter 27 Forbidden Forrest

Lamax system was only 61 lightyears distant to Faysummit system. Meaning the superfast Colt reached Faysummit only 136 minutes. Roy was getting more anxious by the moment. The closer he got the more he felt convinced that his mother was close and that she was in great peril. The Colt was brand-new and by law, it was his ship. The Phantasian who piloted the ride was an employee or more precise a contractor. Tanya was right, this passenger cabin was not big enough for Partner, but then this...

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Being a slut Thetford forest

This is a true story and happened recently. I am bi and enjoy sucking and being sucked by guys occasionally. But on the odd occasion I het so horny that I need fucking. A couple of weeks ago it was early evening and I found myself heading to a cruising spot where I have met guys before. I parked up in a layby. it was stil light, and it was quiet. Eventually a white van came slowly driving by, as he passed I flashed my indicators a few times. He pessed his break lights a few times and we had an...

4 years ago
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A white rich bitch falls for a well endowed black forklift operator who works at one of her husband8217s warehouses

Hello, my name is Charlotte. I know you won’t believe this and normally I wouldn’t admit to it, but I am Otis’ cock slave. There really isn’t any other way to put it. And the really strange part, the really, really strange part, is that I come from a straight-laced New England family and Otis is barely educated and was just a worker in one of my husband’s warehouses. This is a strange tale, one that I find hard to believe even though I am living it. I first met...

3 years ago
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The United Kingdom of Zoo A fake BBC documentary seriesS11 E02 Chelsea Ferguson 34 from Chelmsford

This week, we start the show with establishing shots of the most boring suburban estate you could ever hope to see. Lots of ‘nice’ double story semi-detached homes, each with their own little square of grass and concrete driveway out front, separated from the public footpath by low brick walls. We can see a chunky, out of breath looking man walking along the street toward us, perky, elegant and mean-looking Doberman by his side ... This week’s host – the love-him-or-hate-him Cockney geezer –...

2 years ago
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Peggy Sanford a Worldly Woman Ch 07

Author’s note: I had planned to take a break from writing and submitting stories to Literotica when I reached 300 submissions. I know I said that when I reached 100 and again when I reached 200 submissions but many of you loyal readers asked me to continue. Many of you also sent me story lines and topics to write about, some more detailed than others. Recently I received an e-mail from Peggy Sanford who has written several stories for Literotica and if you have a Literotica log-in and...

4 years ago
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Peggy Sanford a Worldly Woman Ch 01

Author’s note: I had planned to take a break from writing and submitting stories to Literotica when I reached 300 submissions. I know I said that when I reached 100 and again when I reached 200 submissions but many of you loyal readers asked me to continue. Many of you also sent me story lines and topics to write about, some more detailed than others. Recently I received an e-mail from Peggy Sanford who has written several stories for Literotica and you can see Peggy’s profile and photo under...

4 years ago
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Businessman is Forcibily Transformed Into a Sissy

Businessman Is Forcibly Transformed Into A Sissy By Sissycuckold It was a warm summer's day when it all began; I was a successful 34 year old, businessman man, with a large house, flash car, and a beautiful wife. As it was a Sunday I was out for any early morning walk, having just finished making love to my 27 year old wife Lorna, when suddenly a large black car screeched to a halt just before me. In a flash 4 burly men jumped out and I was unceremoniously...

4 years ago
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The Bradford Family Saga Part 2

and shorts; his cock and balls swaying in front of him. Mary smiled, leaned forward again and nuzzled Carol's silky cunt-hair, flattening it out to the sides and exposing her sensuous pink slit to their view. Then she stuck her tongue up inside it. Carol groaned happily and bucked her hips. John was standing over them now, stroking his thick cock while he gazed dreamily down at his sister's inviting pussy. Pushing a finger back up inside Carol's dewy cunt, Mary explored its...

3 years ago
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The Bradford Family Saga Part 3

"My parents are celebrating their anniversary this weekend, and they're planning a family party. I'd like to take tomorrow off and fly down - if it's alright with you, of course." Lucy Parsons came around the desk and stood close to him. He caught a flash of tanned thigh as her skirt flap parted. "This must be a first. A new lawyer showing consideration for the firm." "Isn't that the way it's done?" "Not usually. Young lawyers are a fairly arrogant lot, and favors...

2 years ago
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It8217s Not Just Love Making 8211 The Foremost Foreplays

Hello Everyone This is pradeep back again with the continuation of my first submission(IT’s NOT JUST LOVE MAKING),And people who does not read my first story please I request you to read my previous submission which was the first part,so that you can have a great brief introduction of the my story which im gonna share you all. So to say about me,I am Pradeep (Name Changed),From (Vadapalani) Chennai.Iam 21 years old and i am living in a private home.I am 5.9 with athlete body and average in...

4 years ago
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Sheriffs Forester

I was young for my post but I had been doing it as a deputy it for several years with the old sheriff's forester. My father was a baron but I was only a younger son so I was not going to inherit. I carried the heavy stag into kitchen and ignored the quiet that fell. I shifted it off my shoulder and onto the large butcher table, "I took this from a poacher Anna." She wiped her hands as she crossed the kitchen, "how long..." I snorted as headed into the Keep, "a half day." When I...

2 years ago
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A WellLived Life Book 6 Kara IChapter 10 A Trip to Milford Part II

September 1981, Milford, Ohio Kara came into the living room when the dishes were done and took my hand and led me to the den. We sat in our chairs, as her father insisted. “Did you put your mom up to that ice cream date?” I asked. “No! I was just as surprised as you were. I could tell that dad was really upset at her. And when you stepped in, I thought he was going to blow a gasket. You agreed with him and made him look bad at the same time. And then, when mom did that thing with the...

3 years ago
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Beat the Forfeit

The studio lights go up, the audience cheers and applauds. Max Weinman, the slick studio host, launches into his well-rehearsed patter. "Welcome, welcome, welcome to another game of Beat the Forfeit. As always, we have two couples competing for tonight's jackpot of one hundred thousand pounds. First, in the studio, we have Jim and Russell. Let's meet them." Two men stand behind smart game-show lecterns each displaying a score of zero. Max touches the collar of his open necked shirt, tugs...

4 years ago
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Historia 8 La Cita 2 Parte

Después de lo que había pasado en el hotel aquel, no podía quitarme de la cabeza lo ocurrido.Antes de salir de la habitación me había dado un pequeño papel con la dirección de su trabajo y el número de teléfono.Había pasado ya casi un mes cuando encontré esa nota guardada en mi cajón entre mi ropa anterior, la saque y no pude evitar sentir que mi respiración se agito recordando de nuevo aquella verga en mis labios entrando y saliendo, sus venas marcadas.Cargue la nota entre mis libros unos días...

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Compartments

Ships, particularly warships, have watertight compartments to stop internal flooding from torpedoes, bombs, or other hull damage to the ship. Sailors slam the heavy steel doors (hatches) shut and seal them tight, also known as dogging the hatches. This keeps the ship afloat during times of crisis.Military people, particularly those who have seen combat, also have compartments. When you’re flying off of your leader’s wing (who is also your best friend) and he gets blown out of the sky and you...

Love Stories
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Compartments

(C) Mojavejoe420 2020 Ships, particularly warships, have watertight compartments to stop internal flooding from torpedoes, bombs, or other hull damage to the ship. Sailors slam the heavy steel doors (hatches) shut and seal them tight, also known as dogging the hatches. This keeps the ship afloat during times of crisis. Military people, particularly those who have seen combat, also have compartments. When you’re flying off of your leader’s wing (who is also your best friend) and he gets...

3 years ago
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Positive Reinforcement

Lisa's head swam. She was so damn horny it was difficult for her to think straight. Every inch of her skin felt alive and sensitive. Her puffy and extended nipples even more so. Her cock ached with pleasure even as permanently limp as it now was. Even her balls, shriveled and atrophied as they now were, also ached with pleasure. Her ass was even worse. It felt empty now that Master Carl had removed the plug. Not that the plug helped much with that horniness. Oh, it filled her up...

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