Just West Of Happy, Part 12 free porn video

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Warning: This story contains MATURE THEMES including nudity, sex, sexualization, and vulgar language. Do not read if you are under 18 or if it is otherwise restricted for you to do so. If you wish to share this story, contact me at [email protected]. I will likely agree, I just want to know in advance. Part 12 of Just West of Happy is back to being somewhat on the looooooooooooongish side, pun definitely intended. I dwell for many, many pages on a single scene, but I felt like it was significant enough, both character-wise, plot-wise, and emotionally, to warrant such dwelling. I'll let you decide for sure. As always, please visit me on Deviant Art at http://whimsicaltales.deviantart.com/ for more frequent updates and to keep up with my the goings on of my TG stories. Updates happen there first! Just West of Happy, Part 12 By: Whimsy I was silent the whole ride to the bar. I didn't know the night life in the area well enough to make any suggestions on where we should go (nor did I feel myself capable of speaking enough just then to make any suggestions), but Makayla and Quincy seemed to know where they were going. Not that I was thinking about the bar. I was thinking about Quincy. Every so often, I looked up into the rear-view mirror and, despite his assurances that no one was staring at me, I certainly felt like one person was. Every time I looked up, his eyes were on me. I always hid my gaze quickly, hoping he didn't see me looking, but I was fairly certain he did. What did he think of me now that he knew that I was actually a man? Was he disgusted? He didn't seem disgusted, but I'd never been good at reading people and Quincy struck me as being particularly difficult to read. Was he intrigued? This seemed more likely, but it was hard to tell. Was he aroused? I bit my lip and tried to keep my thoughts kosher, but it was difficult, and that surprised me. For all my "research" and all the chances I'd gotten, I never paid a great deal of attention to men. Not in that way, anyways. But the scene that morning in the shower kept forcing its way into my head, the image of that boy's penis thrusting into my mouth, the feeling of being longed after, oggled. I squirmed uncomfortably. The thought occurred to me that I should have begged off, should have said I wasn't feeling well, that it was a school night and I needed my rest, but that seemed a bigger tip off than anything. And besides, Melinda would just laugh and say that I didn't have a choice, that she was bound and determined to force me to enjoy myself, even if I hated every minute of it. Yeah, Melinda was like that. The bar that Quincy picked was a bit out of the way and not overly crowded when we showed up. Perhaps this wasn't so surprising considering it was early yet, barely into evening. I got the feeling that Quincy and Makayla knew the town well enough to have chosen from the several bars and picked the one that would have the fewest people, though, not that I could figure out why. They didn't seem the sort to avoid crowds. In fact, from what little I knew of them, they almost seemed to prefer them. But as the parking lot the cleverly named "Raise the Bar" came into view, I saw that it was nearly empty. And even then, I gathered that most of the few old cars in the parking lot must have belonged to employees. "You two go on ahead." Makayla and I turned to face Quincy as we climbed out of the car, I somewhat more trepidacious than Makayla. Quincy was standing next to Melinda. And I rather didn't like the prospect of those two having a word in private. Quincy just smiled as he always did, betraying nothing of his intentions or even if he HAD intentions, though he confirmed my fears when he said. "go on ahead, I have something I want to discuss with Melinda." Melinda looked surprised, so I gathered she had no idea what this was about, but this filled me with no comfort. Before I could protest, however, Makayla took my arm and grinned at me. "This place is really nice," she said as she practically dragged me into the bar. She was quite strong and it was all I could do to look over my shoulder at Quincy and Melinda, the former of whom seemed to be waiting to start their "discussion" until after we had left not only earshot, but sight range. "It's usually really quiet. I'm sure Quincy brought you here so you would feel a bit more comfortable. He really likes you, you know." I snapped my neck back to look at her. I could already see in my mind's eye the look of indignation, perhaps even rage on her face and half expected to get clobbered the moment I looked. I was shocked to see the wry grin on her face, half conspiratorial and half exasperated. "I-I-" I stammered lamely, still not ruling out the whole clobbering thing. "But I'm a man!" "You think that bothers him?" she asked with a sigh that was mostly for show. "He doesn't have a problem with dudes." I stared at her the whole time it took us to find a booth and slide into it. "You mean he's gay?" For the first time, her smile faded and I realized I'd said something potentially insulting. "Would he be with me if he was gay?" she asked, a brow quirked and a dry look on her face. "If anything, he's bi-sexual. But I think he just likes sex. He tried to explain it to me once, something about emotional closeness or something. I didn't understand it, but he's really good at it, so I don't complain." I looked down and fidgeted with my fingers on the table as Makayla watched me, an unreadable expression on her face now. When I finally spoke, it was with a soft, somewhat tremulous voice. "Does that ever bother you?" Makayla seemed to take this question as seriously as I'd hoped she would, and looked out the window next to our booth in thought. "Yeah," she admitted after a time. "it does sometimes. I wasn't kidding when I said I have to prove that I'm better than them. I don't think Quincy thinks about leaving me, but sometimes I wonder if someone who thinks like him can really devote themselves to one person. I like what we have, but it scares me sometimes." I watched her speak with a nervous, slightly sad energy in the pit of my stomach. "I'm afraid he's finally going to find that one that he likes better than me," she went on. To her credit, she didn't look sad or angry, but more thoughtful than anything. "I mean, if you don't really think much about having sex with tons of people, what's to keep you with someone? If he's having sex with a bunch of people, how long before I'm out?" I found my gaze drifting to the table. I'd never felt on the same wavelength with someone before. Melinda and I had a strange sort of bond, but we were so different that sometimes it was hard to believe we could possibly live on the same planet. I wouldn't say Makayla and I were alike, but I certainly commiserated quite strongly with her just then. "I think," I finally spoke, my voice rather distressingly soft, a fact that I tried to remedy without much luck. "that it's the difference between love and sex. I don't think you have to be emotionally attached to someone to enjoy having sex with them. Just like you don't have to be emotionally attached to someone to enjoy...I dunno, playing golf with them or tennis or video games or watching movies. It's an intimate activity, but maybe, to people like Quincy and," I hesitated a moment. "Melinda, it's just a physical thing and there's something more that they put towards the people they devote themselves to. Like you and me." Makayla watched me speak for long moments in silence before opening her mouth. Her look was unreadable and I was so unable to predict how she would respond that I winced, half expecting her response to be cutting. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I never was able to discover what she was going to say, for Quincy and Melinda returned to the table just then. Quincy was smiling as ever in a way that made me believe that if he stopped smiling, the sun would go out. Melinda, meanwhile, looked more unreadable than I remember her being since I'd met her. I knew her quite capable of hiding her feelings, more than most people I know even, but it was strange for her to be so obviously guarded. She usually hid even that behind a veil of laughter and sexual advances. There was neither laughter nor sexual advances in her demeanor now. She didn't look angry or sad, she just looked somewhat resigned. "Ione," Quincy said, smiling at me and offering his hand, which shocked me slightly. "Can I speak to you alone for a moment?" I looked at Melinda, as if silently asking for her permission to respond to Quincy. She simply gave me one of her mischievous grins in response, but I felt like it was slightly strained. Without quite thinking, my hand fell into his and I felt his surprisingly warm grip close around it. I had barely even noticed how chilled I'd been from the cool autumn evening and this difference in temperature was almost shocking to me. I felt the warmth from his hand surge through me and right into my chest and stomach, where it lingered finally in my groin. "Come on," he said, leading me away from the table, his hand wrapped around mine and one, embarrassingly, on my hip. "I know the guy who owns this place," he explained. "We lived together for awhile before I moved to Danbury." "Y-You're from Hillsborough then?" I asked, ashamed at how meek my voice sounded. "I'm from everywhere," he said with a wink. "I've been on my own in various places since I was 15," he suddenly grinned to me. "I'm 28, before you ask." I was somewhat surprised by this. I'd assumed he was older than the rest of us, but he had such a youthful air that it was hard to think of him that way. Even though I'd guessed him to be in his late 20's, it still seemed something of a surprise to hear him admit it. Twenty-eight seemed so adult- eight years older than me. But just then, I had no trouble thinking of him as an adult as he led me to the back of the bar towards the bathrooms. I felt like a child, being led around by an older sibling. There was nothing demanding about his guidance, though I felt tentative all the same, especially when he pushed open the door to the men's bathroom and let it click shut behind us. I couldn't look at him as he finally stepped away from me, standing near the door. I couldn't help but feel a little trapped, though I'd never felt particularly threatened by him. "Ione," he said again and I was surprised to hear the shift in tone. He sounded a bit more kind now, if such a thing were possible, but there was also an intensity there. "I want to have sex with you." I did a double take so hard I was afraid my neck was going to crack and my head would fall off. The bluntness of his statement, a statement still spoken with the utmost tenderness, even longing, shocked me more than almost anything I'd gone through in the past day. He didn't approach me, didn't make his presence any more dominating than it already was. He simply stood at the door, leaning on it, as if blocking my escape, though I got the feeling he would move if I asked him to, even before he continued speaking, adding. "I'm not forcing myself on you and I'm not demanding anything of you. I'm asking, not telling." I stared at him, a comical look of mingled surprise and nausea. I'd never had anyone come onto me like this, not as a man or a woman. There had been nothing romantic about George's advances, which had been more like attacks than actual romance, and I couldn't help but think Melinda's advances hadn't been particularly tender either. At that moment, however, unable to speak or even barely see straight, I couldn't have told you whether I preferred Melinda's playful sex games or Quincy's frank, tender confession. "I talked to Melinda," he went on, heedless of my concerns. "She cares for you a great deal you know. She thinks she's doing you a favor, but these little games she's playing, the way you were in the club...well, I got the feeling you were curious about what it was like to be a woman, but nothing you've been through now is typical of womanhood. You've been through some intense moments from the sounds of it, public nudity, attempted rape." I winced and felt a bit woozy at the mention of what George had tried to do to me. I still couldn't admit what his ultimate goal had been to myself and hearing it from Quincy's mouth didn't make it much easier. He finally stepped away from the door and let a pair of fingers brush down my cheeks. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "I know she's got some plans for tonight," he said softly. "with Makayla and me. And I'm not going to stop her because, frankly, I'm looking forward to it," I caught his wide grin in my peripheral vision. "but I want to show you this part of being a woman before all that. I want you to see what it's really like, Ione." His fingers, so gently caressing my cheek, cupped under my chin and brought my gaze up to his. "I want to have sex with you. Now," he said again, a bit more throatily. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. My immediate thought was to push him away and flee the bathroom, flee the bar, run back to my dormroom and lock the door and never leave again. The frankness of his request startled me. But then, after a moment of stark fear, the strangest thing happened. I began to sag under the kiss and I wondered, idly, if it wasn't that his request startled me so much as I was frightened by it. Or, perhaps more to the point, frightened by how it made me feel. My insides were aflutter. Whole flocks of butterflies and birds and what felt like one very angry pterodactyl were taking laps around my stomach, and the swelling warmth in my crotch, by then all too familiar, was back in full swing. He broke the kiss and stared into my eyes. "You can say no," he said softly. "I won't hold it against you. I'll even help you convince Melinda that you should go home. You have class in the morning, right?" I nodded dumbly. He stared at me for a moment before his grin returned and he spoke, a bit more nervous than before. "I...kind of need an answer, Ione." I was surprised to realize he hadn't done anything for those long, silent moments that we stared into each other's eyes. He wasn't pushing me or forcing himself on me. I was also surprised to hear an edge of worry in his voice. Was he afraid I was going to reject him? I didn't know the feeling of putting yourself out on the line very well. I'd never confessed my love to anyone before Melinda, and that had been such a bizarre circumstance that I don't think it counted, especially since, as I recalled it, she was the one that confessed to me.. But it occurred to me that Quincy must have been feeling somewhat vulnerable waiting for my response. Not that he'd confessed his love. From what Makayla was saying, he was a lot like Melinda and this was less about love and more about physical pleasure. But why did Melinda look so tentative about it? Why was he so tender and loving rather than playful and teasing like he'd been in the club? It seemed to me that this was more about me than him, his desire to show me what it felt like to be a woman. Why did that notion make me feel like the pit in my stomach had suddenly become a churning whirlpool? "I-I'm a man," I offered lamely. "That doesn't bother you?" He laughed a bit, seemingly relieved that I finally spoke. "I don't have anything against men," he said, a finger sill on my chin, still holding my gaze to his though he hardly needed it. I couldn't have escaped those cool silvery pools if I'd wanted to. "If you want, you can give me a call after your week is up and we can do it again. It wouldn't be the first time." I faltered a bit, shocked by his confession. Makayla had hinted as such, but hearing it from his own mouth was beyond surprising. He certainly didn't give off a gay vibe-though I hardly had to remind myself that it was bi- sexual. Despite the claim that this was all for my benefit, he clearly was aroused. I could hear it in his voice, see it in his body language. "I just prefer women," he said, leaning his face forward again, his voice little more than a breathy whisper. "They're softer and more...flexible," he smiled at me, his face so close I couldn't see those eyes anymore and I felt a surge of disappointment. All I could see is that grin. He began to kiss at my jawline, little tender things that traced the sharp lines of my face. He apparently felt like I needed a bit more persuading to make a decision either way. My breath came out like a steam engine, almost as loud to my ears as my throbbing heartbeat. "M-Melinda is...ok with this?" I stammered lamely. "I-I love Melinda..." Quincy hesitated. "She's agreed to it," he said after a moment. "She's somewhat possessive of you. But I convinced her that it would be better if you experienced sex in a more or less normal way before whatever she had planned." I again lapsed into silence. I realized just then that I had stumbled to the wall behind me and was leaning against it, being supported by it, as he continued to kiss at my jaw, at my neck, even down to my collarbone, which was bared by the most recent wardrobe change Melinda had wrought upon me. "Wh-what about Makayla?" I breathed. Without quite realizing it, I'd rolled my head back to give him better access. He smiled again, a bit more readily this time, and seemed to press his advantage of better accessibility. "I love Makayla," he said softly between kisses. "but she and I have an agreement. She doesn't mind me sharing with other women as long as she gets a chance to prove she's better. Although," he breathed into my ear, nibbling the lobe a bit. "I've grown somewhat fond of you." I groaned softly at that, trying to weigh the pros and cons of the situation, think of it logically...but it was impossible. The minute he began kissing my skin, all my ability to think was thrown out the window. His lips were like fire and left little spots of warmth that spread through me, mingling with the warmth of my growing arousal. He must have heard my groans, for he smiled and stopped his kisses. "I take that as a yes?" he said, bringing my head to face him again. "I need you to agree, Ione. You won't offend me if you tell me to leave. Part of being a woman is being able to pick who you share your body with," his hands ran gently down my sides. "And like I said before," he continued with a wry grin, looking up at me almost shyly. "you have a nice body." A shudder rippled through me at the compliment. I wasn't quite sure why, but him complimenting my body sent a wave of warmth, of arousal, through my body and I found my hands traveling clumsily up his back as I pulled him towards me. Truth be told, I wasn't entirely sure, logically, what I was agreeing to. But I made a conscious decision to let my body, my needs and desires, take over. I felt my head nod somewhat feebly, though I might have been nuzzling my face into his shoulder. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that I barely thought about Melinda, but somewhere in the back of my mind I reminded myself about what she'd done that morning, about what she'd said just that morning. "What does any of that have to do with love? If I'd had sex with him right then and there, that wouldn't have had anything to do with love. Sex isn't love, Ian. I thought you knew that." I let his kisses wash over me with renewed vigor. He'd accepted my assent, it seemed, for his kisses no longer had that sort of aimless, time-wasting quality they'd had before. They were given with definite intent, and the change was not lost on me. I felt a moan escape my throat and I brought my finger up to my mouth, biting down on it, not wanting any more to slip out. "I would have preferred a more comfortable setting," Quincy spoke between kisses again. "Having sex in a bar bathroom is fun and all, but your first time should be with a nice soft bed, a warm fire, maybe some smooth jazz in the background. But this will have to do," he breathed this last part into my ear again as he placed his warm hands on my sides beneath my shirt. I couldn't think how this would work, in all honesty. Sex, to me, always involved something soft to lay down on. Certainly every experience I'd ever had with it had (all two of them), but the cool, unforgiving tile floor of the bathroom hardly seemed like a hospitable setting for something so tender and sensual as the scene Quincy was promising. Quincy hardly seemed to care, however and, in all honesty, my mind didn't linger too long on the logistics, not with his fingers tickling at my skin. If he was having misgivings, if his comment about setting was anything more than idle banter, he didn't let it show. His hands swirled aimlessly over my sides, my back. He kept himself separate from me now, as if he was primarily interested in my reactions now. He watched me as I bit my finger, trying to keep my sounds in check, but it was difficult, especially when his hands traveled up to cup the bottoms of my breasts. "She doesn't even give you a bra," Quincy said with a tone of mock exasperation. "I am going to have to talk to that girl. Less clothes isn't always sexier, and with breasts your size, you can't have been comfortable." I felt my cheeks burn again without even thinking about what he was saying, about the truth of the situation (my back certainly had been starting to hurt by the end of the day). Having him refer to my breasts when I was still barely capable of rationalizing the fact that I even had breasts, having him comment on their size, having him touch them without surprise or disgust that I was supposed to be a man-having him treat me like a woman-was enough to draw me even further into the act that had seemed impossible to fathom a moment before but was becoming all too real the more time that passed. I felt his fingers trail along the bottom edges, the swells of my breasts, and my breath caught in my throat, more at the surprise and the idea that a man was touching my breasts than any actual arousal, not that I could deny that I was aroused. "I suppose you've probably played with them yourself," Quincy continued to speak, not kissing me, just watching my reaction with an air of bemusement. "It's what I would do if I was turned into a woman." I shook my head, clenching my eyes shut as I did so, awash in the emotion. "N-No," I stammered. "I haven't really had the time." "Really?" he seemed surprised. Or, rather, he sounded surprised. I didn't open my eyes and I could barely even make out his voice through my swimming perception. "You're a more resilient man than I-well, you know what I mean." I flushed even more. I felt him lean forward and again, his voice breathed directly into my ear. "What's it feel like?" he asked throatily. He breath caught again and I cracked my eyes open, staring at him uncomprehendingly. "Being touched like this," he breathed, continuing to run his fingers across the bottoms of my breasts. "Being a woman," he added softly. "What's it feel like?" My mouth was so dry I doubted I could speak. I tried desperately to swallow and barely found my voice. "It's weird," I managed to choke out. I caught his gaze again and immediately wished I'd kept them shut. His eyes were just so enthralling I couldn't help but stare awkwardly. "It's kinda like," I let my voice trail off as I thought. "it's kinda like every part of me is alive. I'm really super aware of every movement I make and every look I get. My skin is really sensitive, not like it makes me horny every time someone touches me, it's more that it tingles and makes me feel...awkward..." My voice trailed off as I realized how verbose I'd gotten in my description, how much I'd said, and how he was watching me with a mix of amusement and longing. "I-It's weird," I muttered again, hiding my gaze from him. "So this doesn't turn you on?" He asked curiously, continuing to run his fingers across the bottoms of my breasts, my stomach, my sides, almost tickling. I hesitated a moment, wrestling with the awkward answer that it DID turn me on. I could tell it did as each gentle movement sent a ripple down my body to my crotch. It wasn't so much the touch, though, as the idea of what it represented, the promise of more. My skin was certainly sensitive, but my imagination was in overdrive. I knew what was coming. And it simultaneously terrified and thrilled me. "Y-Yes," I finally moaned, then bit my finger again to stop those sounds from escaping my lips. Quincy reached up and gently took my finger from my mouth before leaning in again to gently kiss my cheek, my jawline, my ear. "Tell me," he whispered. I groaned again. Even his voice was setting me on edge. "It does," I moaned, squirming more under his touch. "but it's not--" My voice caught again, much more reluctant to escape my throat than my moans were. It was impossible to explain to him, though, even if I could speak. He seemed to accept that, and did not press the issue. I found it almost infuriating that he was so calm and in control when I was a writhing mess. I tried to tell myself that it was all experience, that he'd done this a lot more, but I still couldn't help but feel infuriatingly like a child. He gently began to lift my shirt. At first, I felt like he was simply trying to get better leverage with his hands, but when I felt him begin to force my arms up, when I felt the shirt go over my head, I knew it was something more. Clothes were being removed. The act was becoming much more real. I shyly arched my arms up to cover my bared breasts, but he stopped them and shook his head. "Don't," he breathed. I was surprised to see that he wasn't looking at my breasts, he was still staring into my eyes. He leaned in to kiss me again and I felt his hands working at my skirt, unbuttoning it and, eventually, letting it drop to the ground. I realized vaguely how much easier skirts were to remove than pants as I stood there, nearly naked, pressed up against the wall with this tall, dark man kissing me. He closed his eyes and slowly began to lower himself. I watched him, my breath ragged bursts now, hardly regulated, hardly sufficient to even fill my lungs it felt. Even without him pressing against me, I kept my back to the wall almost comically, my arms at awkward angles at my side. I felt his hands pull at the waistband of my panties and I rolled my head back. Now my breath wouldn't come at all. It, like my voice, was caught in my greedy throat that would not permit anything but my girlish squeaks and moans to escape. "You mind?" I blinked and looked down. I very nearly staggered at the sight of a man knelt in front of me, partially obscured by my breasts, his head level with my naked crotch. My breath finally escaped, but it was a shuddering, ineffective thing that barely helped my head stop spinning. "Wh-wha--?" "Your shoes," he said, still not looking up to me. In fact, I could see that his eyes were still closed. "I suppose you could keep them on if your feet are cold." "Wh-why are your eyes closed?" I stammered meekly. Even as I spoke, I felt, almost unbidden, the toes of my left shoe connect to the heel of my right and begin to force it off. For a strange, panging moment I felt as though he was resisting the urge to look at me, as if it would make it more difficult for him to go through with this. He smirked up at me, showing his face with those closed eyes. "I like to take it all in at once," he said with that same infuriating patience. He rose slowly, hands on his knees. "It's just this thing with me. Some guys can't wait to see boobs, but I like to see the whole thing at the same time." I was startled to see him take a few short steps back, my panties in his hand. "Tell me when you have them off." I kicked off my left shoe and then, without changing my position, began to remove my socks with my feet, strangely compelled to follow his commands, not in the same way as I'd always been with Melinda, even before the rings. His commands were more gentle than controlling, less commands and more requests. He twirled my panties absently in his hands, a somewhat stirring picture, and I hesitated a moment before telling him to open his eyes. "A-Are you going to-uh--be clothed for the whole thing?" I found myself asking. I was a little surprised by my question. I'd been telling myself up to that point that I was going along with this to feel sex as a woman, but I couldn't deny a certain curiosity to see Quincy unclothed as well. "Would you like me to be?" he asked infuriatingly. I gulped, finally managing to get something through my throat. I didn't answer immediately and, when I did, it was unrelated. "I took my shoes off. And socks," I added, wondering if that was a concern for him as well. He smirked lopsidedly and, slowly, almost dramatically-reverently-he opened his eyes. For that briefest of moments, I felt on display. Not a piece of meat like I'd felt with George, but as a piece of art. I was so in surprised by his look that bordered on awe and reverence that I didn't even think to awkwardly cover myself. Surely someone like Quincy had seen countless women. He'd confessed to being quite promiscuous, but he was looking at me as though he'd never seen a woman before in his life. As if there was always only ever me. "Wh-what?" I asked, suddenly nervous. His grin returned. "Gorgeous," he said softly, walking back to me. As he did, he almost unceremoniously removed his shirt, tossing it aside to mingle with my own discarded clothes. My protests to his flattery died in my throat when his compact but well- defined abs came into view. My throat had once again closed off all access, this time even to the moans. But as awkward as I felt, I also felt it impossible to look away. He placed his hands on my hips and, for a moment, just looked into my face. "You're gorgeous," he said again. "I'm sure you were quite handsome as a boy." "I-I wasn't," I said, somewhat flabbergasted that he would even bring up my true sex. "I was--" my voice trailed off as he began to kiss at my neck, more needily than before. "--s-super plain. I s-still am." "You're not plain," he said, kissing for long, tender moments between each word. "You're real. You're a girl. A woman. And you're gorgeous." I felt like I was pressing myself into the wall behind me so hard that I was trying to become a part of it. I could barely stand on my own now as his kisses grew in ferocity, ravishing my skin with a growing need and desire that startled me. I tentatively put my hands on his shoulders, then ran my palms down to his chest, feeling the definition of the muscles. He was thin, slight even, but he had much more form than I had as a man, more clear and defined muscles. My touch was awkward, but he seemed to react to it, kissing me with greater fervor and then, finally, letting his hands travel up to my breasts. I was almost startled with how suddenly his hands grasped at my breasts, rubbing the sides and, eventually, the front, the nipples, with that same insistence and need that he'd been kissing me with during this bout. I couldn't stop myself, I moaned and thrashed a bit under his touch. He grinned at that, stopping his kisses. "Does this turn you on?" he asked with a playful smirk reminiscent of Melinda's. Without waiting for an answer, he bent down and took the breast into his mouth. Like the night before, watching someone wrap their lips around my breasts caused my arousal to peak. I couldn't look away. The image of a face pressed into my breast, the second being squeezed, prodded, and molded by his grabbing hand, made me moan even louder, moreso when I reminded myself that the person latched onto me was a man. His tongue swirled around my nipple as his hand gently pinched the other. I began to sag, sliding awkwardly down the cool tile of the wall behind me, but he caught my descent with his spare hand and continued to work. I felt like we were there for hours, him switching from breast to breast, one being suckled on, the second pinched and prodded. I felt like Melinda and Makayla would miss us, would leave without us, the bar would close, Christmas would come, we would grow old and die. I tried on occasion to reciprocate, but my body was having difficulty responding to my commands. I would occasionally manage to place a hand on his rough, slightly-hairy skin, so distinct and different from the smooth hairlessness of my own, but I could do little more than simply hold it there before another suckle, another pinch, caused me to lose motor control and my hand would simply slip from his flesh. Finally, suddenly, the sensations seemed to tapir off and I realized about ten years later that he had stopped kissing and feeling me. I heard a shuffle of clothes while I tried to focus my gaze and, when I'd finally managed to do so, realized he'd removed his pants. He seemed to notice my looking and, once again, leaned in to kiss me. "We can still stop," he whispered in my ear after a deep, meaningful kiss. "If you say the word, I can just..." His voice trailed off as I felt a warm digit part the folds of my vagina. I gasped aloud, bucking against his finger, staring at him in shock. "We don't have to go all the way if you don't want to," he continued as I felt a small swirling in my vagina, trailing my juices along the lips and the skin immediately surrounding it. "I want you to be sure. Do you want--" "G-God yes," I moaned, rolling my head back and clenching my eyes as my breath escaped in ragged bursts. My own voice sounded foreign to me then though I'd gotten used to the tone sounding feminine, this was the first time I felt like I actually sounded like a woman. Quincy grinned at me and I saw him shift a bit, leaning down slightly, I assumed to remove his underwear, which he must have done, for he returned to a standing position and began to move in to kiss me again. "W-Wait," I breathed, turning bright red. He frowned, clearly thinking I was having reservations. "I want to see," I whispered huskily, barely realizing what I was saying. "P-Please?" His smirk returned and he nodded, stepping back a few paces and holding his arms out. I let my gaze slowly trail down the tight, compact muscles in his chest and arms until I finally found what I had been unconsciously looking for. Quincy was hard. I don't know why that surprised me, why that made me proud, but his member was standing quite rigidly, quite proudly in his crotch. Slightly upturned and the same dusky hue as the rest of his body, it was pulsing slightly. He wasn't huge, I realized as I stared blankly at it. I'd seen bigger online, even in the male showers, but in a way, I was glad for this. That he was hard surprised me somewhat. I guess I was slightly surprised to realize that it had been I that had done this to him. Not some beautiful, glamorous girl. Me. A plain man turned into a plain woman. I hadn't expected to make him hard. But he definitely was. "Do you like what you see?" There was a probing curiosity to his tone. I guessed he was trying to gauge whether the sight of him, as much as the promise of release, of a female's orgasm, appealed to me. He certainly seemed surprised that I had asked him to show me his body. In a way, this surprised me too when I thought about it, and once again I wondered if I was in this to experience sex as a woman or to experience sex with a man. "I do," I found myself saying, finally prying my eyes up from his member to his face. "I-I think I really do." He nodded slightly, a bit of understanding in his face, as he approached again. I wasn't exactly sure how he was going to do this, so I began to lower myself to the ground awkwardly, feeling a bit numb but resigned at the prospect that the act was so near. He stopped me, however, putting a hand on my shoulder. "No one should have to have sex their first time on a hard cold floor. Allow me." I felt his arms reach around my butt and legs and, with a yelp of surprise, he hefted me up, using the wall to prop me as I rose higher and higher from the ground. I let out a squeal and a weak, surprised peal of giggles. I wasn't quite sure why I did this. Maybe I was just so far beyond uncomfortable that I was feeling comfortably numb. Maybe I'd lost my mind. Either way, he seemed emboldened by this laughter, straining a bit with the act, but continued to lift me until my legs were at his waist level. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he said, holding me there, awkwardly straining himself so he was not pressed up against me and using the wall to prop me up. "I'll hold you up. But you're going to have to...ah...aim," he said with a wry grin. I turned bright red and looked down. From this position, I could see his member between us, pointing up at me as if beckoning me to take it. I stared at it, another man's penis that I could only see by looking past my own breasts, only inches away from my female sex. If you had told me a week ago I'd be in this situation, I'd have laughed. I bit my lip and watched his penis as if I was expecting it to do tricks. Quincy remained stoic, holding me as long as I needed before, finally, I reached down and wrapped my fingers around it. He flinched only slightly at my cold hands and I marveled at its smooth, warm length. Just as I'd felt that morning, the palpable feeling of it being alive was almost startling. Holding your own penis is no comparison to holding another man's. It's world's different. You don't expect it to feel like it does at all. But it wasn't another man's penis, I reminded myself. I wasn't a man. I could no longer claim that distinction. And I was about to take another irrevocable step away from that gender. And to think, I'd only had sex as a man for the first time two days ago. I moved his member testingly. I was somewhat pleased to hear his breath quicken, though he did a masterful job of keeping his expression under control. But I could tell. I could tell from the pulsing of his member, I could tell from his quickened breath. He was as ready for this as I was. It proved more difficult than he claimed to "aim." Firstly, his member wasn't flexible enough to aim blindly and I had to be sure of where I was moving it to. Secondly, he was already straining to keep me held up in the proper position so that I could take him into me. And thirdly...well, I didn't know where the hole was. My understanding of female anatomy was minimal at best despite having it for the better part of two days. Two days ago, I'd thought the whole of the vagina was...well, a big hole. Even now I'd only vaguely realized that the actual hole was quite a bit smaller than I'd first imagined. I'd begun to wonder as I held his penis in my hand just how it was going to fit inside of me. Quincy was patient through my strange sort of testing, even grinned at me a few times. "Having trouble?" he finally asked with a bemused tone. I flinched at his sudden words and turned bright red. "G-Give me a break," I whined. "I'm new to this gender. Three days ago I hadn't even seen a...a..." "A vagina? A pussy? A cunt? A poon?" "Y-Yeah," I stammered quickly, interrupting his growing vulgarity in referring to my new gender. "You really hadn't seen a vagina until two days ago?" he asked, surprised. I couldn't look at him. I felt ashamed at my inexperience, but was surprised by his laugh. "That's adorable," he said good-naturedly. "Can I assume Melinda at least let you have sex with her before turning you into a woman?" I turned even redder and nodded. "I'd seen pictures," I said in my defense. "But--" "It's not the same, is it?" he said with a smirk, nodding. "Just doesn't do it justice." I nodded slowly and resumed my clumsy attempts at male/female compatibility. I believed that I had finally found it. When his head pressed against it, I felt the folds and more begin to part and inhaled breath sharply. "I-I think that's it." He nodded. "It is," he said softly. "Now," he warned me. "this is going to hurt a bit. I'm going to go slow. You're very wet," he went on, causing me to flush even more. "so it'll make it easier." I clenched my eyes shut and put my head on his shoulder, bracing for it. I'd never heard sex could be painful. Melinda had seemed to enjoy it, though now I wondered if her first time had been with me. Which meant she might have been prepared for it. I was just beginning to wonder how painful it would be when I felt him begin to push into me. As he said, he went slowly. I wouldn't have called it painful so much as uncomfortable, at least at first. As the thickness of him began to push deeper into me, however, it did feel like my vagina was being split in two. He seemed to sense this and stopped for a moment. "It's alright," he whispered into my ear, my head still on his shoulder. "I'm going to push all the way in. Once you get used to it, it'll feel better." I nodded again. Just then, I was feeling little actual pleasure and was wondering how on Earth women could thrash and moan while having sex. Just as he said, he continued pushing into me until, finally, I felt our crotches meet, flesh on flesh. He was completely into me and it felt like he was bumping up against my innards with his head. "There might be a little blood," he panted. I suddenly realized that he was short of breath, whether from the strain of holding me up or the pleasure he was feeling. "it's nothing to worry about. Just your virginity." I'm pretty sure I could have burned a hole in his shoulder with the heat from my cheeks. He slowly began to retract himself and, over the next few minutes, he began to build up a steady rhythm, slow but speeding up, of pulling and pushing. He did all of the work, keeping my back up against the cold tile that, at that point, I didn't even notice except when it occasionally made my sticky, sweaty skin stick to it. After awhile, however, the strangest thing began to happen: I began to enjoy it. It hurt at first, but like straining a muscle, I stopped feeling the pain after awhile and, once the pain stopped, it felt like he was tickling a thousand little nerve endings at the same time. I kept my legs wrapped around him, bending them almost instinctively as he needed to pull and thrust, but I rolled my head back off of his shoulder finally as his rhythm became quicker and more demanding and my pain turned almost completely to pleasure. I let out a deep, throaty moan to his silent straining. "O-Oh God," I whispered. "What's it feel like?" he breathed, speaking in time with his thrusts. "What's it feel like to be fucked as a woman?" My muscles clenched around his member when he said that and I felt like I was being pushed towards the edge of a great ravine. "G-God, so good..." I moaned. "Y-You're touching me...inside me...y-you're inside me...it's...it's s-so..." My words ceased to make sense, ceased to even be English. My vaginal walls began to ripple and massage his cock and I could see him straining to hold himself in. "I don't...want to...until you do," he said haltingly through clenched teeth, resting his forehead on the wall next to my head. I knew from experience the strain that he must have been going through to keep his orgasm in check. But at the same time, I still felt my own arousal building. The time I'd had sex with Melinda, I'd cum almost immediately. In fact, it had been all I could do to hold it back like Quincy was doing now. But now, I felt like I was still being pushed up a steady incline of arousal. The swelling feeling washing through me was so intense that I could barely see, let alone continue to control my meaningless moans and thrashes of pleasure, but I was doing nothing to hold back an orgasm. In fact, I wasn't really sure what I was looking for. I found it eventually, that same sort of strain, like water pushing up against a rickety old dam, that I'd felt last night. My body tensed and, as it did, I felt Quincy finally release into me. He could hold it no longer. Fortunately, the burst of warm, hot fluid from his cock, the rippling of its length against my sensitive vaginal walls, was enough to tear down that dam, to send me over the edge. I heard my own screams from miles away. They sounded so much like an actual woman, so distinct and disconnected from myself, that I hardly believed they were mine. But after a moment, those screams and the sensations of flooding release washing through me rushed back to me, closer and more real now than anything I'd ever felt before. I continued to cry out and moan as his cock surged into me, spurting what felt like gallons of his seed into my canal, my womb. Far from this frightening me, the idea that I even had a womb only caused me to thrash harder. The feelings were so raw, so intense that they hurt, and almost without realizing it, I tried to push Quincy away. It was too much, and the continued pulsing of his member inside of me was massaging me to more and more orgasms. His head was still on the wall beside me and he held me fast, our crotches touching, as deep into me as he could go. It felt like ages, our sweaty, trembling bodies writhing together. Neither of us dared move, it seemed, and we just stayed like that, two bodies as close to being one as they could be. I couldn't believe he could hold me up that long, but in reality, the wall was doing much of the work. He had me pressed to it with his body and, after a moment, I disentangled my cramping legs and let them fall to the ground. An awkward moment of disentangling followed. Fortunately, his member had become flaccid enough that it popped out without too much trouble. He stumbled back and sat down on the ground, naked, his cock flopping a bit with the action. Then, he began to laugh. I too collapsed to the ground and, whether because his laughter was infectious or because I too felt surprisingly light and jovial, I began to laugh as well. He half crawled, half dragged himself to sit next to me propped against the wall and put his arm around my shoulder. His hand reached down to tweak my breast, but I let out a whining whimper and slapped it away. "S-Sensitive," I whined, burying my face in his shoulder. He smirked a bit. "You are as girly as anyone I've slept with," he said softly, running a hand through my hair. "If Melinda hadn't said anything, there's no way I would have guessed..." I blushed again, but my face remained hidden in his body. "This is the best part," he continued, pulling me suddenly into his lap, which caused me to squeak in surprise. "We call it cuddling." Every movement made me feel, acutely, the soreness in my crotch and the squirting, oozing of our mingled juices coming from it. Only vaguely was I aware that I had a man's seed inside of me. I was so lost in weariness and contentment that the thought barely reached the front of my brain. Quincy continued to stroke my hair with one hand, my naked, sweaty skin with the other, and just held me as long as I needed. As happy as I'd been with Melinda, I don't think I'd ever felt so comfortable, so content as I did just then, wrapped in Quincy's arms. I could say a lot of things for having sex with a woman as a man or a woman, but I'd not felt so completely surrounded, protected even, as I did with Quincy. "I love you, Quincy." Quincy started slightly, his eyes opening wider as he looked down to me. But I didn't feel his body go stiff. I didn't see his surprise. I barely even registered the words that had come out of my mouth, for I had drifted off to sleep.

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I fucked The Flash by Iris West

I mean, come on; the skin-tight suits? The perfect bodies? The sexy smiles? It’s incredible how damn hot these guys are, not to mention the fact that they save our skins on a daily basis. It’s a huge turn-on… for me at least. If you hadn’t guessed by now, I’m a little repressed on the sexual side. No, I’m not a virgin or some crazed sex freak. As a journalist for Picture News, I’m busy constantly and finding the time to maintain a romantic (or at least sexual) relationship is nearly...

2 years ago
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Run to the West Pt 1

Erika Hoffmann was afraid as she walked through the dark, rain soaked streets of Eisenach, a small town just inside the border of East Germany. She should not have been out at this hour, ninety minutes after the curfew of ten o’clock which had been imposed in January.The soviet rulers had been worried about people attempting to escape to the west and if she was caught by the Stasi who knows what would happen to her.People sometimes disappeared without warning.The fact that she had been visiting...

Lesbian
3 years ago
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Meri Mom Ki Chudai West Indies Se

Hi my name is malwika I’m from Mumbai..Actually have completed my study from usa and we were living there from last 30years with my family.. To waha rehne k baad me 1year se yaha pe hu and mere family v..My mom is about 39year old lady but still she’s very sexy have a beautiful rounded ass with 34 28 38 figure..Me jb usa me thi tb mere dad ki car accident me death ho gyi thi and meri mom itni sexy hone k wajah se and apna figure maintain krke rkhti thi..Jb usa me thi to meri mom ki aek frnd tha...

3 years ago
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Confessions of a West Palm Slut Chapter 12

Sunfest had arrived.  Every year, West Palm held a music and arts festival which attracted a ton of people. While music played throughout the week, the best concerts were Thursday through Sunday. I typically had to work those four days but had been granted off Thursday at my request.  The unfortunate part of working in the service industry is that nearly all of your friends end up being from the service industry. After calling around, I was unable to find anyone who was free to go to the Nelly...

True
2 years ago
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Wild West Club

Tales and myths from the American Wild West have fascinated boys all over the world during the last 140 years. An old saying says, "Boys are always boys and will never grow up to be adults". Even some of us middle aged men in our small Scandinavian town do have an "Old West Club" with twelve members. Names as Wyatt Earp, John Ringo and Doc Holliday are magnified and fact is mixed with fiction in numbers of novels, films and TV soaps about these characters. But out there had been a large...

1 year ago
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Daves Australian OdysseyChapter 52 The South West Corner

Monday Week 27 When Dave woke up next morning, the first thing he thought of was that fantastic meal he and Jill had enjoyed yesterday. Fortunately he would only be driving for about three hours today, so was able to sleep in. It was about 208 kilometres to Bruce Rock. Because he didn't get away until after 9:30 am, it was after 11 am when he stopped for a late morning tea at Quairading. Only an hour later he was pulling up at Kokerbin Rock, which impressed them with its size and grandeur....

4 years ago
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The Trail WestChapter 4

The Hobart wagon train was four days west of Amarillo and young Josh Kelly was scouting ahead for the best route, water holes, and a good spot to camp for the night. He had been doing the same thing for the last 40 days as the train made its way from Fort Smith through Oklahoma City and Amarillo toward Santa Fe. Hobart had shown a lot of faith in the 18 year old, giving him more and more responsibilities and the boy had blossomed into a very capable young man. The time Josh spent with Johnny...

1 year ago
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The Wild Woman of the West a CFNM story

A wanted female outlaw comes to town, but the male marshal gets more than he bargins for... with embarrassing consequences for him and his townsmen!!! ------------------------------------------------------------ Disclaimer: The following is a comedy CFNM story that's not to be taken too seriously, featuring fictional characters who are all aged over 18 and any resemblance to real life places and names is purely coincidental. -----------------------------------------------------------------...

Cuckold
3 years ago
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Just West of Happy Intermission Proving a Mans Worthington

Warning: This story contains MATURE THEMES including nudity, sex, sexualization, and vulgar language. Do not read if you are under 18 or if it is otherwise restricted for you to do so. If you wish to share this story, contact me at [email protected]. I will likely agree, I just want to know in advance. This is a bit of an intermission, a bit of a bridge between "act 1" and "act 2" if such things can possibly exist without any sort of actual, long-term planning on my part....

3 years ago
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Justins Descent Part 1

This is my first try to write an erotic story so the story draft may seem raw. I welcome comments from everybody and you can write to me of what you thought at [email protected] ---------------------------------------------------------------- JUSTINS DECENT by hfernandez1983 ---------------------------------------------------------------- It was a nice summer morning. Justin had just woken up and went straight to the window. He opened it and could feel the fresh breeze of...

4 years ago
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The OLD WEST Part3

Hank loved the deep heat of Anne,s hot body on his turgid cock as he thrust in and out if her making loud vulgar sucking noises soaked up by night sounds, Anne softly groaning words of encouragement most with little meaning as she experienced numerous sensations of pleasure throughout her body with many orgasms before Hank quickly withdrew and let his thick jizz spurt onto her stomach and magnificent tits. “I loved that Mr Mitchell, but I better be getting back before Pa misses me. Don,t want...

4 years ago
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Meeting My Old West Hooker Rachel in College

At one time in our lives we all have met that crazy “quirky” girl who made us laugh and was sexy in a funny way. Well I was fifty-seven and taking some college courses part-time when I met forty- something Rachel. She was a very skinny women and kind of plain in a rustic way, no make-up, granny glasses, but don’t get me wrong she still was a good looking woman. What drew me to her was her eccentric dress. Rachel dressed like an 1880’s old west bar girl, long skirts, high laced boots, cotton...

2 years ago
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A Genny Story Key West

  When we go on vacation, Melly and I like to have fun. We let our hair down and don’t care what anyone else thinks. This is the story of our vacation and all the fun we had in wonderful Key West.                         A Genny Story… Key West I am Genny. Getting from Lansing, Michigan to Key West, Florida is no easy task. We had to fly from Lansing to Detroit. Then from there to Atlanta, and then on to Miami and then down to Key West. Not an easy day, but if you have ever spent a long...

4 years ago
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fun in key west

Introduction: wife and i had fun in key west ***********************************************Key West ***************** On our recent vacation to St. Thomas, we did a 2 day trip to key west for my Birthday. My wife asked what I wanted for my B-day, and I told her I wanted to wear pantyhose with shorts and sandals and walk around town with her. This is a first for me( and her) wearing hose in public. But I figured in Key west it would be OK. I was very nervous as I dressed. I wore suntan...

3 years ago
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Meeting My Old West Hooker Rachel in College

At one time in our lives we all have met that crazy “quirky” girl who made us laugh and was sexy in a funny way. Well I was fifty-seven and taking some college courses part-time when I met forty- something Rachel. She was a very skinny women and kind of plain in a rustic way, no make-up, granny glasses, but don’t get me wrong she still was a good looking woman. What drew me to her was her eccentric dress. Rachel dressed like an 1880’s old west bar girl, long skirts, high laced boots, cotton...

1 year ago
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Run to the West Pt3

Erika Hoffmann spent the next day, Sunday, alone as Elsa was scheduled to work so she busied herself with cleaning and tidying her apartment. After she had gone she didn't want anyone saying she was dirty and untidy. She would probably never see Eisenach again but that didn't matter. Besides, she didn't want to stop and think about what may happen on Thursday. She would worry about that enough as the day drew near.The following day she tried to catch up with all the work she wanted to finish...

Lesbian
2 years ago
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Run to the West Pt2

Erika Hoffmann closed her arms even more tightly around her friend, her lover, and let the last vestiges of her orgasm slowly dissipate.So much emotion flooded through her, so much understanding of why she was still single and why Elsa Schröder was her only friend. Now she knew this moment had been destined from the start, maybe even why Helmut had been taken from her so cruelly.She opened her dark brown eyes and looked into Elsa‘s, lying naked in her arms. What she saw through those beautiful,...

Lesbian
2 years ago
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Key West a hot tub and a polish girl

This is my first time to write a story of me, so I guess i'll see it goes, lol, what the hell. This took place shortly after my divorce which was 2000 so it was a few years ago. I was living outside of washington d.c. in virginia with a girl that i honestly was with only because she made good money. She had gotten a new job in key west florida doing computer video conferencing, her speciality on the navy base in key west as a contractor. Her company put us up in the holiday inn while we...

1 year ago
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The Greatest Lie Chapter 15 East is East and West is West

This is a work of erotic fiction, which is written for adult readers only. It contains explicit descriptions of illegal drug use, sexual intercourse, and violence, which some readers may find disturbing. Portions of the narrative are inspired by current events in Thai society and an ongoing scientific debate concerning the safety of an over-the-counter microbicide, nonoxynol-9 (N-9). However, with the exception of the identity of the Thai Prime Minister and the protagonist's SRS...

2 years ago
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West Virginia Business Chapter 1

WEST VIRGINIA BUSINESS PART 1 I love the United States, its huge, diverse, and its many towns have their own secrets, history. After finishing my latest holiday in Washington DC, I rented a car and drove through Virginia and into West Virginia. I stopped at every Civil War site that was on the map, Harpers Ferry was the first I came across. I then drove through West Virginia, green and beautiful, I was reminded of Queensland, where I lived, that is just as green and beautiful. As...

3 years ago
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Confessions of a West Palm Slut Part 1

Upon moving to West Palm Beach from Florida I was able to secure a job as a waitress with no experience.  Needless to say it took some adjusting.  To be honest I had never held a job other than being a swim instructor growing up.  Waitressing was a fun job but very stressful at first - especially for someone who has bouts of anxiety such as myself.  Top it off with having to make new friends and living away from my family and I was a certifiable mess.  One of the things that I found solace in...

True
1 year ago
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Confessions of a West Palm Slut Chapter 2

It was Sunday, and unseasonably cold for October in West Palm Beach.  Or so I was told.  I had only been living here about a month or so. It had been two weeks since I went out on a date with Shane.  We crossed paths at my work once since that time but did nothing other than exchange pleasantries and small talk.  He was there to watch college football and hang out with Jimmy, but Jimmy spent most of his time either serving drinks or arguing with his girlfriend, Kat, who was also a bartender at...

True
2 years ago
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Daves Australian OdysseyChapter 51 Down the West Coast

Monday Week 24 It was hard to imagine that it was only a week ago we drove into Broome, Dave thought as he lay in bed waiting for Jill to wake up. So much has happened in that week, almost unbelievably good experiences. He realised that today was going to be just a transit day, with not a lot of interesting things to see at the other end. He was hopeful that they would only be on the road for about five hours, as he planned his next stop to be at the Sandfire Roadhouse, which was only 323...

2 years ago
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Actress MePt 3 Trip West

Summer of 82 passed quickly into fall, and we talked numerous times about when was I going to come out west and visit her. I kept mention that November would be good, as the national holiday of deer hunting started here on the 15th, and the follow week is Thanksgiving. That probably would be the best time for me to journey out west. I worked hard to get things wrapped up by the 12th of November. On Saturday, I packed my bags and had sister Brenda take me to the airport. Brenda and I...

2 years ago
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Mrs West

The temperature had finally dropped into the 80’s and I had plopped down into one of the chairs. My dog Trix was playing with a stick and I sat idly watching. Her voice was behind me. “Mind if I join you?” she asked as she slid into the other chair. She was parallel to me and about two feet away. “Sure Mrs. West” She was rubbing some kind of moisturizer on her legs. I had a hard time looking away. “Call me Julie.” She said with a smile. “Mrs. West makes me feel old.” “Err…OK.” I almost...

2 years ago
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Key West

His butt was getting numb. Squirming around for relief had become an impossible endeavor. It had been hours since he left Miami in the bed of that rickety, vibrating pick-up truck. Brad’s legs ached and he desperately needed to stretch and walk around. Twisting around to look forward through the cab windows only frustrated him more. “Shit! I can’t even see the next island.” In despair, Brad drooped his shoulders and tugged on the edges of the white sailor’s cap, pulling it tighter on his head....

Love Stories
1 year ago
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Love Old West Style

The morning sun rose over the mountain, I stood near the willow tree as the faint glow of sunlight began to filter over the town of Lonesome. Today was a new day, and new people set to arrive for another day in the tourist hot spot of Lonesome, Montana. Once a western movie location the town had been revitalized by the owner, Edward Brilliant, a self made millionaire he bought the old west town and wanted to bring it back to its glory. He also wanted to make money at it, so he made it into a...

3 years ago
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East Meets West Pt 02 Ch 01

If you haven’t read East Meets West, Part 1, then I suggest you read it now, otherwise this story will make no sense to you. I would also like to add that I don’t write sex stories . . . I write stories that have sex in them. Hopefully, the sex enhances the story, but is not the primary reason the story was written. Sex between consenting adults who love each other is truly one of the most glorious things on earth. I also want to point out a few things here, so I apologize in advance for...

2 years ago
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East Meets West Pt 01 Ch 01

If you are looking for a story filled with sex, then you are probably in the wrong place. I don’t write sex stories. I (hopefully) write interesting stories that contain sex. It has been said that women need a reason to have sex, while men just need a place. Like most generalities, that is generally wrong. I think that most people actually need to have a reason to have sex and if they care for each other, if they love each other, then the sex will be even better. All the participants are at...

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