Gingerbread
- 2 years ago
- 28
- 0
Roger Tells It:
Raising a kid alone has got to be one of the toughest, most demanding situations any responsible human could ever face. And I was pretty well-off, financially; I can't begin to imagine how someone making less than I do could manage it. I, at least, could always afford to have someone stay with Bill during the day until he started school. And I could afford to have someone be there for him when he came home or when business took me out of town.
For the first six years after Monica left me - Bill was just a year old when she decided to head for the Coast - we were very, very lucky. Annie, a solid West Indian woman with a gently firm manner about her and an honest and obvious love of children, took on the task of "mothering" my son. They got on famously, and I came to think so highly of her that when the INS caught up with her, I fought for her as if she was family. I lost, and it broke all of our hearts to say our farewells.
After Annie, our standards were very demanding. I must have interviewed 40 candidates before settling on Moira, a tall red-headed Irish lady of about 25. I explained to her about Annie, and Moira understood immediately. When Bill asked her if she was going to be the new "Annie," Moira told him that there could only be one Annie, and I knew it was going to be fine. And it was, for six good years. I was very happy to be one of Moira's sponsors at her naturalization, and I was happy for her when she announced her engagement a year later.
Neither Bill nor I were happy when she added that she and her soon-to-be-husband intended to move to South Carolina.
We - Bill and I - sat down and talked about our next step.
Bill's a bright kid. I'm not talking about a prodigy here. not by any stretch of the imagination, but he's smart, and he thinks things through. I'd always made a real effort to make it clear that when we're alone, he can ask or say anything without fear of retribution of any kind. In fact, in striving to insure open communication, I was overdoing it at the start. It had been Annie who'd warned me to remember that I was Bill's father and not one of his friends from school. A tough balancing act, but it paid dividends. We could talk.
"Dad, I'm 12. I don't need a nanny or a babysitter. I can take care of myself."
"Bill, you're 12. You can't drive a car, sign a check, buy booze or butts, or skip school. I'm not turning you into a latchkey kid. You're my son, I love you, and I'm not leaving you alone."
He sighed heavily, something he'd learned to do when he knew I wasn't going to budge on a matter of policy. I don't think he had realized it yet, but he was also a very good-looking youngster, combining his mother's big blue eyes and glowing complexion (marred at the moment by the inevitable acne) with my size and facial structure and brown hair.
"But I'll agree with you: You don't need a nanny or babysitter. Let's look into alternatives."
At that, he brightened. Bill loved a challenge. For most of the weekend and over breakfast on Monday morning, we kept coming back to the subject. Bill carried his "project notebook" around with him everywhere, and whenever one of us had an idea or thought on the matter, he painstakingly wrote it in the book.
Just before he left for school, he asked if this was a private subject, i.e., only between him and me. I wanted to know what he thought.
"I think the more input we can get on it, the better."
"Sounds good. Stay awake in school. And no drooling in English."
He did a moderately acceptable Groucho and headed out. The English reference was to his teacher, whom he'd described as a "babe-and-a-half." I was looking forward to the parent-teacher conference.
Moira came up with the winning suggestion, which Bill relayed to me that night.
"How about a part-time housekeeper."
"We considered that, remember?"
"Sure, but - " He flipped through his notebook pages. " - but Moira said maybe we should look for a college student who's got a light schedule. Especially someone who might be able to tutor me for an hour or so each day."
The more we talked about it, the better it sounded. One of the biggest problems with a part-timer was school holidays. On those days, Bill would be left alone until three or so. But a college student would have about the same schedule and would, therefore, be available on most school holidays.
We moved fast after that. Because of our location - a co-op in the Village - we concentrated our efforts on New York University, Parsons and Baruch, all within walking distance (more or less).
The folks at NYU were helpful and after checking me out passed along my name and number. We started getting calls. Most of them were washouts on the first call, but I interviewed a few. In the meantime, we were on a countdown to Moira's marriage and departure.
The first candidate showed up in fashionably torn jeans and tended to end every sentence with "Y'know?" The second had a nose ring - honest. The third enriched my life by telling me everything that was wrong with her teachers, her roommate, her life, the city and the Universe in general. The fourth began interrogating me about whether I had inculcated the "traditional sexist, racist white male views" in my son. The fifth seemed like a real possibility until she began dropping unsubtle hints that she'd be more than glad to take care of me, as well.
Two days before Moira's wedding - and after 18 failed interviews - I found one that seemed like a winner. She had good references, a good class schedule and seemed to have the right background. When she was 14, her mother died, and it had fallen to her to oversee her four siblings. No, she had no problem with taking a urine test, and she was taking a minor sequence in statistics, so she'd be able - and willing - to tutor Bill in the demon whose name is "Algebra."
Her name was Inger. Our first interview was right there at NYU, in a conference room a few doors from the student aid office. She was between classes, and I took note of her appearance. She was about five-seven (good, because it gave her a couple of inches on Bill), with hair the color of fresh-cut wheat and pulled back in a ponytail. She had a good, strong face - attractive but not quite pretty - and used her light dusting of makeup to emphasize her best features: great lips and big, soft brown eyes. She was wearing a baggy sweater and a pleated plaid skirt that came to her knees. If anything, she seemed to be on the plump side. Her fingernails were clipped and buffed, and her only jewelry was a digital watch, one of those cheap ones.
Inger spoke well, in complete sentences. From time to time, she would hesitate, becoming silent as she thought. That really impressed me, because it meant she had the self-confidence to prefer silence to inane utterances; most people feel they have to fill conversational space with noise.
Things went fairly well until I got to the tough part (for me, anyhow).
"I don't want to pry, but I want to ask you a somewhat personal question."
"I don't promise to answer."
"Fair enough. Inger, do you have a... a significant other in your life?"
A moment of silence. "I think I understand your concern. I don't really have a boyfriend. There was a guy I was getting interested in but he turned out to be... inappropriate. And as busy as I am with class and - I hope - working for you, I really don't have much time for socializing."
She was bright, Inger was, and she recognized that I wanted to ask another question but was holding back because it would have been prying.
"Look, Mr. Millman, he was inappropriate because I found out he was bisexual and not being safe about it. I am a big fan of living."
I felt myself blush. "Thanks," I mumbled.
Her wristwatch beeped. "I have to get over to Courant for a class. I'll be glad to meet you again, but right now - "
"No, I quite understand." I stood and held out my hand. "Let me talk with Bill, and let's see if you can come by and meet the subject under discussion."
She smiled, and I was somewhat taken aback by the transformation. When this young woman smiled, her whole face got into the act, lighting up the entire room.
"I'd like that," she said.
Bill Speaks:
I don't know what I was expecting when I met Inger. The only Inger I'd ever heard of was in the Swedish Bikini Team poster Ian has in his room, so I'd had this image of Inger-Goddess. Instead, she's this kind of big, squat college girl who dresses to hide her weight (I guess.) But she was really nice, and most important, she didn't treat me like a little kid. She asked me what I liked to do - Dad gave me a look that reminded me not to tell her everything I like to do - what I liked best about my best friend (Ian), and she was really interested when I told her about my synthesizer keyboard. She asked if she could see my room, and Dad said it was up to me. So I said, "Sure, if you can stand it," and showed her. She took a look at my books and computer and keyboard and magazines. She wanted to know which magazine was my favorite, probably expecting it to be the Playboy. I told her I really didn't have a favorite; I just picked up the one that looked most interesting. She asked me why I'd picked the Playboy, and I told her the interview with Zhirinovsky, because he's really nuts. Was that the only reason? Well, sure, I told her, the pictures were OK, but it seemed every model in the magazine was blonde and busty, like there weren't any pretty, slim brunettes out there. She laughed and said, "It does kind of look like an ad for the Aryan Nations, doesn't it?" So I figure if she's cool with that, she's okay. Even if she isn't with the Swedish Bikini Team.
Roger Again:
It was pretty clear to me that Bill felt alright about Inger, maybe even liked her. And she was happy when I told her we thought she'd be fine. We worked out the schedule and the payment, and that, I figured, was that.
Moira's wedding came and went. We'd been invited, of course, but I figured it would be an awkward situation, with too many of the trappings of the feudal lord giving away a serving maid in marriage. So Bill and I pleaded a prior engagement and sent a nice present (What do newlyweds need most? Right - a check) and about two weeks later we received a postcard from Barbados simultaneous with a Thank You note from Sooth Carolina. Try to figure the mail.
Bill seemed pretty comfortable with Inger, and I couldn't complain at all. She took care of the housekeeping, and Bill usually had his homework done by the time I got home from work. Inger told me that he really was without a clue when it came to algebra, but she was working with him on it.
A couple of weeks passed. The night of the parent-teacher conferences arrived. Inger said she could cover the house for me that evening.
I met Ms. Allen, the famous "babe-and-a-half" English teacher, and had to agree with my son's assessment. She was gorgeous, and she was built. She was wearing a fairly conservative suit, but there was no way she could hide that body or those legs. I noted the absence of wedding or engagement rings and start wondering...
Anyhow, Ms. Allen was very forthright and business-like. Bill's writing skills were quite good, though he had a tendency to let his paragraphs run too long. He had a good grasp of chronological organization, but he seemed hesitant about dialogue. Did he read much fiction? No, I told her, his taste ran to non-fiction, especially stuff with political content. She suggested I leave some Heinlein collections around. Which got us talking about Heinlein, and then science fiction in general, and we got to exchanging titles and authors, and when our time was up she said:
"I've really enjoyed our conversation, Mr. Millman."
"So have I. Perhaps we could continue it over coffee or dinner sometime?"
She smiled gloriously, and we traded phone numbers, as well.
Hey, being a single parent isn't all bad after all, I thought.
When I got home, Bill was sprawled on the floor, eating popcorn and watching "Dateline: NBC." Inger was reading a political science textbook, occasionally using a yellow Hi-Liter on a passage.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Quite well," I told her, hanging up my overcoat.
"Did you meet Ms. Allen?" Bill chimed.
Inger laughed and closed her textbook.
"So he's told you about the 'babe-and-a-half'?"
"He's hinted at it."
"She is rather attractive."
"I'm sure." Inger stood. "I'll head back then. Big test tomorrow."
I helped her on with her coat and walked her to the door. I handed her an envelope. "Cab fare," I explained. She smiled and thanked me.
"By the way," I said. "I met Bill's algebra teacher. If he teaches the way he talks, I'm amazed anyone is getting it. I suspect he's one of those guys who picked it up instinctively and simply doesn't know how to explain what he knows."
"Hmmmm... maybe if we started from scratch, Bill would do better."
"Maybe. Good luck on your test - and thanks for the extra time."
"Mr. Millman, I'm joining some friends Friday evening. Would it be alright with you if I shower and change my clothes here?"
"Of course. But thanks for asking."
Bill Observes:
Y'know, it's been three weeks now. I was starting to feel like Inger has always been her. In fact, I sort of thought of her as, well, like a guy, a buddy. I mean, she's in charge, but not bossy, and we talk about stuff sometimes, and I just always thought of her as just plain Inger.
Not any more, though. Not after tonight. Not after she changed her clothes and put on her makeup to go out with her friends.
Dad called about six, which is when he usually leaves the office, and talked to Inger, and then she put me on the phone, and he told me wasn't going to be home till 7:30, but that Inger was going to leave at seven anyhow, and I was on my own, and he was sorry to be late but he'd bring in my favorite Chinese. It was no big deal, really.
So about 15 minutes later, Inger excuses herself and goes into Dad's bedroom with her bag, and about 10 minutes later I hear the shower running. Sure, I was curious, but this was Inger. I mean, I'd never seen a real woman naked, but Dad always left Playboy and like that around, and I've always looked at them, and now I'm just kind of not interested unless it's a really pretty woman or someone unusual (like that Tiffany Towers, who's got breasts bigger than her head!), so I didn't really want to peek in on Inger, who never seemed that attractive. Besides which, it would be sort of like violating her privacy, and I respect her too much for that.
So at a quarter to seven, I didn't even look up when Inger came into the living room, because I was watching "Tek Wars." And then she asked me if she looked OK. When I looked at her, I wasn't sure it was Inger. She wasn't in her usual baggy sweater and baggy skirt or baggy jeans with her hair pulled back in a pony tail - no way. She was wearing a black leather mini cut about halfway up her thighs, and dark stockings and high heels and a gray turtleneck sweater, and she had her hair combed out, and she was wearing more makeup, and Inger was definitely a babe. I mean, Ms. Allen suddenly looked shabby in my head. I looked her up and down, I guess with my mouth hanging open, and she kind of laughed - not mocking, but just amused, I guess - and said, "I take that as a 'Yes.'" So I told her the truth, just kind of blurting that she looked gorgeous, and she smiled and puckered up and blew me a kiss and said thanks, and I got the most incredible boner. When she asked me to help her on with her coat, I think she noticed it, but she just told me to behave until Dad got home, and then she left to meet her friends, and all I could do was stand there next to the door, smelling her perfume and throbbing to beat the band. The hell with the band. Five minutes later I was beating the meat.
Roger Returns:
On the next Tuesday, I sat Bill down for one of our talks.
"Bill, I'm going to have dinner with a lady tonight." His eyebrows went up. "Someone kind of new." I'd gone out with a few women in the previous decade, and Bill had met a couple of them.
"What's that mean - 'Kind of new'?" He was genuinely - and understandably - puzzled.
"Well, it means I've had coffee with her once, but we've never really gone out. And it's someone you know."
"Inger?"
I had to smile. "No, not Inger. Good grief, no. I mean, she's attractive enough, but she's awfully young for me."
"Dad, Inger is a babe-and-a-half. You should have seen her when she changed to go out with her friends. I mean, forget Ms. Allen!"
I felt my face redden.
"Did I say something wrong, Dad?" He'd obviously mistaken my blush for something else.
"No, not a chance." I grinned. "So you're having less trouble concentrating on your English books?"
"Dad, Inger is definitely hot when she wants to be." He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "So, anyhow, who's this date of yours?"
I blushed again. "It's, uh, your English teacher."
He blinked rapidly, twice. "You're shitting me."
"I shit you not." This was our secret, ultimate-promise-of-truth code. "We sort of hit it off at the parent-teacher conference. In fact, it was her idea to leave the Heinlein around for you that got us talking."
"Wow. You and Ms. Allen."
"Bill - this has to be between us. And I'm going to ask you to do something very, very difficult. I don't think I could do it if I was in your shoes. You have to act like nothing's changed in class with her - because nothing has changed in class with her."
He thought that over for a few moments. Then: "Yeah, that is going to be tough. You know, sometimes the guys make remarks about her - "
I shook my head. "And they'll keep doing it, and it's OK. Even if you do, it's OK - but I'd prefer you didn't."
"Does Inger know?"
"Yes, she does. She's going to stay till 10 tomorrow night."
"What happens if you get lucky?"
I laughed. "Son, women - especially 'babes' - do not line up around the block for a middle-aged account executive. At least, not for this one. I do not expect to get my bones jumped. In fact, I'd be amazed. I'll be home at 10."
The next day, before he left for school, Bill wished me luck, but it didn't have an immediate effect. Oh, dinner with Bernice was quite lovely, and afterward we went to Bradley's for drinks and some music, and then I walked her to her door in a light snow and - to my astonishment - she solved that awkward moment for us by leaning up and giving me a peck on the lips... and then did it again, but it was less of a peck and turned into a clinch. Then there was another awkward moment, only this time I solved it.
"I wouldn't mind doing a lot more of that except for two things," I said. "One, it's getting damn cold out here, and, two, I have a 10 o'clock appointment."
She smiled beautifully. "We'll have to check our schedules, Roger. I really enjoyed tonight."
"Call you tomorrow?"
"I'd like that. Thank you for a lovely evening."
"The pleasure was entirely mine. Good night."
I waited till she'd closed the inner door of her brownstone apartment building, and then I strode home, feeling pretty proud of myself.
Bill Speaks:
It was about seven o'clock when we finished clearing away the dishes - Inger and I made a casserole - when she said, "I wonder how your father's date is going." I wondered, too. What I was wondering more about was Inger. How could she be such a babe and dress so plain all the time? As she bent over to put the casserole pan in the dishwasher, I saw her baggy sweater bulge with her tits and instantly got another boner. It seemed like half the time I was near her I was getting a boner. It was driving me nuts. I excused myself and went into the bathroom for the second time that evening and quickly whipped it out and started beating. In about a minute, I splattered another big load into the sink. It took me about 10 minutes to clean up and calm down enough to leave.
Inger was just sitting on the couch, looking at me funny, like she knew what I'd been doing. I went to turn on the television, thinking she was going to study like she usually did if she stayed late, but she asked me not to turn on the set and to come sit with her for a minute.
"Bill, I want to talk something over with you - just between us."
Uh-oh, I thought, sitting at the far end of the couch.
"You were just masturbating."
I felt my face get hot, but one thing I don't do - ever - is lie. On the other hand, I didn't have to confess, either.
"There's nothing wrong or unnatural about it. And I don't think it's dirty or some kind of shit like that."
I was a little surprised to hear Inger talk like that, but I got her point.
"But I want to talk with you about..." She took a deep breath. "Bill, were you jerking off thinking about your father's date?"
My face got hotter.
"I mean, if she's half the babe you say she is, I can understand that, but it's going to be tough enough treating her just as a teacher; making her your fantasy object will just make it more difficult."
I had a tough time talking. "Well, uh, what makes you think it was her?"
"As soon as I mentioned your father's date, you got a hard-on and went to jerk off."
"That wasn't it."
She shrugged. "Well, suit yourself."
"Really, it wasn't!"
She didn't say anything, but I could tell she was far from convinced.
"That was just coincidence. It was - " I shut my mouth.
She looked really puzzled.
"It was what?"
"It was you!"
She blinked, like she was surprised.
"Oh, Bill, I'm just plain ol' Inger and - "
"No, you're not. I saw you when you were dressed to meet your friends. You were so hot I - "
I stopped my mouth before I went any farther.
Her face changed, like... softened.
"You mean I turned you on like that? This long after? That's kind of hard to swallow and - "
"Don't believe me?" I stood and stepped in front of her. "Look!"
She looked, right at my crotch where Boner Number Three was making itself obvious.
"Oh, my goodness! Did I do that?"
She looked up at me.
"Oh, dear." Her breathing quickened. "Little old dowdy me made you get all stiff like that..." She put her hand on it, and I groaned. "Well, I can't have you studying algebra in a state like that. What shall we do about it?"
"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom - "
"Not at all."
"Wha - "
She was unzipping my pants and pushing them and my Jockeys down.
"There does seem to be quite a bit to it for a young man your age."
I moaned when she took my dick in her hand.
"Maybe I can help."
She started stroking me. Her face was all red, and she was panting.
"It's so nice and hard and - are you going to cum soon?"
I grunted.
"Well, we can't make a mess in here..." Still stroking, she reached for the Kleenex. "Come on, and let it go."
"Oh, shit..." I gasped and started shooting. Even though I'd whacked off twice, my knees started to bend, I came so hard - and a lot. Inger's Kleenex got soaked pretty fast, and then there was stuff running over her hand and wrist. I came some more before I stopped, and she squeezed the last few drops out, then used another Kleenex to clean off my cock. She looked up at me and smiled.
"That was nice," she said. She put her hand to her mouth and licked up some of my jizz, then gave a little shiver. "And it tastes nice, too. Straighten out your clothes and flush this." She waited for me to pull my pants back up, then handed me the tissue. I kind of stumbled to the bathroom, wondering if I'd just had a dream. I flushed the tank and tossed some cold water on my face before returning to the living room. Inger waved me to her side, then patted the cushion next to her.
"No secrets, OK?"
I nodded.
"No - you have to say it."
"OK - no secrets."
"Have you ever done that with anyone before?"
I blushed. "Well, a couple of times my friends and I kind of... well, we have a contest to see who can shoot the farthest or the most."
"But that's it?"
"Yeah."
"But you get horny a lot, and beat off a lot?"
"Well, I guess so."
She took a deep breath. "Well, I can understand that. I get horny, too. A lot. And I masturbate a lot. Sometimes it seems almost anything can get me hot. So I try to be careful. You know about AIDS and that, right?"
"And how." Did I ever! Between Dad and school - I felt like a walking brochure from the Centers for Disease Control. Or GMHC.
She thought for a few seconds. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll take care of you if you'll take care of me."
"Take care of you -?"
"I'll teach you how. But two rules: No one else can ever find out, and we tell each other everything - including about anyone else we play with. How does that sound?"
It took me a minute to realize what she was offering. But once I did, I told her how it sounded:
"That sounds completely excellent."
"Good. Now, have you ever seen a naked woman in the flesh?"
I shook my head. She smiled, stood and led me to my room.
Roger Speaks:
I got home at 10 o'clock, on the dot. To my surprise, Inger was alone in the living room, reading her poly sci text. Bill wasn't in sight.
"He's sacked out," she said quietly. "Said he was really tired."
"I hope he's not coming down with anything. Usually I have to drive him to bed."
She shrugged. "He ate enough. Maybe he's just worn out. How was your date?"
My smile told her plenty. She grinned at me, her face blossoming. She stood and stretched languidly. "Well, I'm a bit tired myself. I think I'll head home. Are you going to see her again?"
"Almost certainly. I think we're really hitting it off."
"Good on you." She took her coat, and I helped her into it. Something about the way she moved and talked seemed more relaxed than I'd ever seen her before. "Good night." I handed her an envelope. "Thanks, Inger. I really appreciate it."
"Hey, any time I can, I'm glad to do it. He's a good kid."
"The best." I beamed. She beamed right back.
The next morning, Bill seemed pretty cheerful and filled with energy. "I'm glad to see you feeling OK."
He gave me an odd look.
"Inger said you were pretty beat last night and turned in early."
His expression relaxed, and he grinned. "I was definitely beat. I was going to stay up and grill you about your date, but - " He shrugged. "How did it go?"
"It really went well, Bill. I like her, and I think she likes me. We're going to see each other again."
"That's swell, Dad." Oddly, that seemed to be the end of it for him. I'd spent my time in the shower rehearsing how I'd deal with detailed questions and felt a bit let down that he wasn't more curious. On the other hand, Bill was bright and advanced for his years. He might well have concluded for himself that there were some things we would not be discussing in detail. I was proud of my little guy; he was growing up!
That afternoon, at just after four, Bernice called me. (We'd agreed that it would be best for her to call me at work, since it might be putting too much pressure on Bill to have him answer the phone and find his "babe-and-a-half" English teacher asking to talk to his father.) How did my schedule look? I told her that it depended on whether Inger was available, and I'd have to get back to her. She was agreeable. I called home. After the ninth ring, Bill answered the phone, a bit out of breath.
"Oh, uh, Inger bet me I couldn't do 20 pushups."
"Really. Who won the bet?"
"Me."
"Oh, good." I was surprised. Bill had never had much athletic inclination beyond some interest in basketball. "Let me talk to her for a moment, please?"
"Sure."
"Hi, Mr. Millman."
She was out of breath, too.
"Well, that's what he won. I had to do as many as he did."
"What's with this pushups business?"
"Well, I figure that exercise is important, helps the circulation and alertness. Since this algebra has an association with sleepville, I figured the stimulation might help."
It sounded logical, in an odd way. What the hell. I asked about her availability on Friday or Saturday night.
"Oh, no problem! Which will it be? Or both?"
I had to laugh. "You're more optimistic than I am. Friday would be best." I paused. "It might be a little later."
"Are we talking changing the date on the clock?"
"With any luck. I have a very good feeling about the way it's going."
"I'm really glad for you to hear that."
"Don't say anything yet. I'll tell him myself."
"Bye!"
Then I called Bernice. She was very pleased that it was Friday. I explained that Bill and I tended to reserve Saturdays as our day together. We had a whole little routine that ended with going out late Saturday night to bring in the Sunday Times and News and some snack food for watching late night movies together. She thought that was wonderful. Then she told me she was glad it was Friday because it was a day closer, and she really wanted to see me.
Roger Tells It:
Raising a kid alone has got to be one of the toughest, most demanding situations any responsible human could ever face. And I was pretty well-off, financially; I can't begin to imagine how someone making less than I do could manage it. I, at least, could always afford to have someone stay with Bill during the day until he started school. And I could afford to have someone be there for him when he came home or when business took me out of town.
For the first six years after Monica left me - Bill was just a year old when she decided to head for the Coast - we were very, very lucky. Annie, a solid West Indian woman with a gently firm manner about her and an honest and obvious love of children, took on the task of "mothering" my son. They got on famously, and I came to think so highly of her that when the INS caught up with her, I fought for her as if she was family. I lost, and it broke all of our hearts to say our farewells.
After Annie, our standards were very demanding. I must have interviewed 40 candidates before settling on Moira, a tall red-headed Irish lady of about 25. I explained to her about Annie, and Moira understood immediately. When Bill asked her if she was going to be the new "Annie," Moira told him that there could only be one Annie, and I knew it was going to be fine. And it was, for six good years. I was very happy to be one of Moira's sponsors at her naturalization, and I was happy for her when she announced her engagement a year later.
Neither Bill nor I were happy when she added that she and her soon-to-be-husband intended to move to South Carolina.
We - Bill and I - sat down and talked about our next step.
Bill's a bright kid. I'm not talking about a prodigy here. not by any stretch of the imagination, but he's smart, and he thinks things through. I'd always made a real effort to make it clear that when we're alone, he can ask or say anything without fear of retribution of any kind. In fact, in striving to insure open communication, I was overdoing it at the start. It had been Annie who'd warned me to remember that I was Bill's father and not one of his friends from school. A tough balancing act, but it paid dividends. We could talk.
"Dad, I'm 12. I don't need a nanny or a babysitter. I can take care of myself."
"Bill, you're 12. You can't drive a car, sign a check, buy booze or butts, or skip school. I'm not turning you into a latchkey kid. You're my son, I love you, and I'm not leaving you alone."
He sighed heavily, something he'd learned to do when he knew I wasn't going to budge on a matter of policy. I don't think he had realized it yet, but he was also a very good-looking youngster, combining his mother's big blue eyes and glowing complexion (marred at the moment by the inevitable acne) with my size and facial structure and brown hair.
"But I'll agree with you: You don't need a nanny or babysitter. Let's look into alternatives."
At that, he brightened. Bill loved a challenge. For most of the weekend and over breakfast on Monday morning, we kept coming back to the subject. Bill carried his "project notebook" around with him everywhere, and whenever one of us had an idea or thought on the matter, he painstakingly wrote it in the book.
Just before he left for school, he asked if this was a private subject, i.e., only between him and me. I wanted to know what he thought.
"I think the more input we can get on it, the better."
"Sounds good. Stay awake in school. And no drooling in English."
He did a moderately acceptable Groucho and headed out. The English reference was to his teacher, whom he'd described as a "babe-and-a-half." I was looking forward to the parent-teacher conference.
Moira came up with the winning suggestion, which Bill relayed to me that night.
"How about a part-time housekeeper."
"We considered that, remember?"
"Sure, but - " He flipped through his notebook pages. " - but Moira said maybe we should look for a college student who's got a light schedule. Especially someone who might be able to tutor me for an hour or so each day."
The more we talked about it, the better it sounded. One of the biggest problems with a part-timer was school holidays. On those days, Bill would be left alone until three or so. But a college student would have about the same schedule and would, therefore, be available on most school holidays.
We moved fast after that. Because of our location - a co-op in the Village - we concentrated our efforts on New York University, Parsons and Baruch, all within walking distance (more or less).
The folks at NYU were helpful and after checking me out passed along my name and number. We started getting calls. Most of them were washouts on the first call, but I interviewed a few. In the meantime, we were on a countdown to Moira's marriage and departure.
The first candidate showed up in fashionably torn jeans and tended to end every sentence with "Y'know?" The second had a nose ring - honest. The third enriched my life by telling me everything that was wrong with her teachers, her roommate, her life, the city and the Universe in general. The fourth began interrogating me about whether I had inculcated the "traditional sexist, racist white male views" in my son. The fifth seemed like a real possibility until she began dropping unsubtle hints that she'd be more than glad to take care of me, as well.
Two days before Moira's wedding - and after 18 failed interviews - I found one that seemed like a winner. She had good references, a good class schedule and seemed to have the right background. When she was 14, her mother died, and it had fallen to her to oversee her four siblings. No, she had no problem with taking a urine test, and she was taking a minor sequence in statistics, so she'd be able - and willing - to tutor Bill in the demon whose name is "Algebra."
Her name was Inger. Our first interview was right there at NYU, in a conference room a few doors from the student aid office. She was between classes, and I took note of her appearance. She was about five-seven (good, because it gave her a couple of inches on Bill), with hair the color of fresh-cut wheat and pulled back in a ponytail. She had a good, strong face - attractive but not quite pretty - and used her light dusting of makeup to emphasize her best features: great lips and big, soft brown eyes. She was wearing a baggy sweater and a pleated plaid skirt that came to her knees. If anything, she seemed to be on the plump side. Her fingernails were clipped and buffed, and her only jewelry was a digital watch, one of those cheap ones.
Inger spoke well, in complete sentences. From time to time, she would hesitate, becoming silent as she thought. That really impressed me, because it meant she had the self-confidence to prefer silence to inane utterances; most people feel they have to fill conversational space with noise.
Things went fairly well until I got to the tough part (for me, anyhow).
"I don't want to pry, but I want to ask you a somewhat personal question."
"I don't promise to answer."
"Fair enough. Inger, do you have a... a significant other in your life?"
A moment of silence. "I think I understand your concern. I don't really have a boyfriend. There was a guy I was getting interested in but he turned out to be... inappropriate. And as busy as I am with class and - I hope - working for you, I really don't have much time for socializing."
She was bright, Inger was, and she recognized that I wanted to ask another question but was holding back because it would have been prying.
"Look, Mr. Millman, he was inappropriate because I found out he was bisexual and not being safe about it. I am a big fan of living."
I felt myself blush. "Thanks," I mumbled.
Her wristwatch beeped. "I have to get over to Courant for a class. I'll be glad to meet you again, but right now - "
"No, I quite understand." I stood and held out my hand. "Let me talk with Bill, and let's see if you can come by and meet the subject under discussion."
She smiled, and I was somewhat taken aback by the transformation. When this young woman smiled, her whole face got into the act, lighting up the entire room.
"I'd like that," she said.
Bill Speaks:
I don't know what I was expecting when I met Inger. The only Inger I'd ever heard of was in the Swedish Bikini Team poster Ian has in his room, so I'd had this image of Inger-Goddess. Instead, she's this kind of big, squat college girl who dresses to hide her weight (I guess.) But she was really nice, and most important, she didn't treat me like a little kid. She asked me what I liked to do - Dad gave me a look that reminded me not to tell her everything I like to do - what I liked best about my best friend (Ian), and she was really interested when I told her about my synthesizer keyboard. She asked if she could see my room, and Dad said it was up to me. So I said, "Sure, if you can stand it," and showed her. She took a look at my books and computer and keyboard and magazines. She wanted to know which magazine was my favorite, probably expecting it to be the Playboy. I told her I really didn't have a favorite; I just picked up the one that looked most interesting. She asked me why I'd picked the Playboy, and I told her the interview with Zhirinovsky, because he's really nuts. Was that the only reason? Well, sure, I told her, the pictures were OK, but it seemed every model in the magazine was blonde and busty, like there weren't any pretty, slim brunettes out there. She laughed and said, "It does kind of look like an ad for the Aryan Nations, doesn't it?" So I figure if she's cool with that, she's okay. Even if she isn't with the Swedish Bikini Team.
Roger Again:
It was pretty clear to me that Bill felt alright about Inger, maybe even liked her. And she was happy when I told her we thought she'd be fine. We worked out the schedule and the payment, and that, I figured, was that.
Moira's wedding came and went. We'd been invited, of course, but I figured it would be an awkward situation, with too many of the trappings of the feudal lord giving away a serving maid in marriage. So Bill and I pleaded a prior engagement and sent a nice present (What do newlyweds need most? Right - a check) and about two weeks later we received a postcard from Barbados simultaneous with a Thank You note from Sooth Carolina. Try to figure the mail.
Bill seemed pretty comfortable with Inger, and I couldn't complain at all. She took care of the housekeeping, and Bill usually had his homework done by the time I got home from work. Inger told me that he really was without a clue when it came to algebra, but she was working with him on it.
A couple of weeks passed. The night of the parent-teacher conferences arrived. Inger said she could cover the house for me that evening.
I met Ms. Allen, the famous "babe-and-a-half" English teacher, and had to agree with my son's assessment. She was gorgeous, and she was built. She was wearing a fairly conservative suit, but there was no way she could hide that body or those legs. I noted the absence of wedding or engagement rings and start wondering...
Anyhow, Ms. Allen was very forthright and business-like. Bill's writing skills were quite good, though he had a tendency to let his paragraphs run too long. He had a good grasp of chronological organization, but he seemed hesitant about dialogue. Did he read much fiction? No, I told her, his taste ran to non-fiction, especially stuff with political content. She suggested I leave some Heinlein collections around. Which got us talking about Heinlein, and then science fiction in general, and we got to exchanging titles and authors, and when our time was up she said:
"I've really enjoyed our conversation, Mr. Millman."
"So have I. Perhaps we could continue it over coffee or dinner sometime?"
She smiled gloriously, and we traded phone numbers, as well.
Hey, being a single parent isn't all bad after all, I thought.
When I got home, Bill was sprawled on the floor, eating popcorn and watching "Dateline: NBC." Inger was reading a political science textbook, occasionally using a yellow Hi-Liter on a passage.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Quite well," I told her, hanging up my overcoat.
"Did you meet Ms. Allen?" Bill chimed.
Inger laughed and closed her textbook.
"So he's told you about the 'babe-and-a-half'?"
"He's hinted at it."
"She is rather attractive."
"I'm sure." Inger stood. "I'll head back then. Big test tomorrow."
I helped her on with her coat and walked her to the door. I handed her an envelope. "Cab fare," I explained. She smiled and thanked me.
"By the way," I said. "I met Bill's algebra teacher. If he teaches the way he talks, I'm amazed anyone is getting it. I suspect he's one of those guys who picked it up instinctively and simply doesn't know how to explain what he knows."
"Hmmmm... maybe if we started from scratch, Bill would do better."
"Maybe. Good luck on your test - and thanks for the extra time."
"Mr. Millman, I'm joining some friends Friday evening. Would it be alright with you if I shower and change my clothes here?"
"Of course. But thanks for asking."
Bill Observes:
Y'know, it's been three weeks now. I was starting to feel like Inger has always been her. In fact, I sort of thought of her as, well, like a guy, a buddy. I mean, she's in charge, but not bossy, and we talk about stuff sometimes, and I just always thought of her as just plain Inger.
Not any more, though. Not after tonight. Not after she changed her clothes and put on her makeup to go out with her friends.
Dad called about six, which is when he usually leaves the office, and talked to Inger, and then she put me on the phone, and he told me wasn't going to be home till 7:30, but that Inger was going to leave at seven anyhow, and I was on my own, and he was sorry to be late but he'd bring in my favorite Chinese. It was no big deal, really.
So about 15 minutes later, Inger excuses herself and goes into Dad's bedroom with her bag, and about 10 minutes later I hear the shower running. Sure, I was curious, but this was Inger. I mean, I'd never seen a real woman naked, but Dad always left Playboy and like that around, and I've always looked at them, and now I'm just kind of not interested unless it's a really pretty woman or someone unusual (like that Tiffany Towers, who's got breasts bigger than her head!), so I didn't really want to peek in on Inger, who never seemed that attractive. Besides which, it would be sort of like violating her privacy, and I respect her too much for that.
So at a quarter to seven, I didn't even look up when Inger came into the living room, because I was watching "Tek Wars." And then she asked me if she looked OK. When I looked at her, I wasn't sure it was Inger. She wasn't in her usual baggy sweater and baggy skirt or baggy jeans with her hair pulled back in a pony tail - no way. She was wearing a black leather mini cut about halfway up her thighs, and dark stockings and high heels and a gray turtleneck sweater, and she had her hair combed out, and she was wearing more makeup, and Inger was definitely a babe. I mean, Ms. Allen suddenly looked shabby in my head. I looked her up and down, I guess with my mouth hanging open, and she kind of laughed - not mocking, but just amused, I guess - and said, "I take that as a 'Yes.'" So I told her the truth, just kind of blurting that she looked gorgeous, and she smiled and puckered up and blew me a kiss and said thanks, and I got the most incredible boner. When she asked me to help her on with her coat, I think she noticed it, but she just told me to behave until Dad got home, and then she left to meet her friends, and all I could do was stand there next to the door, smelling her perfume and throbbing to beat the band. The hell with the band. Five minutes later I was beating the meat.
Roger Returns:
On the next Tuesday, I sat Bill down for one of our talks.
"Bill, I'm going to have dinner with a lady tonight." His eyebrows went up. "Someone kind of new." I'd gone out with a few women in the previous decade, and Bill had met a couple of them.
"What's that mean - 'Kind of new'?" He was genuinely - and understandably - puzzled.
"Well, it means I've had coffee with her once, but we've never really gone out. And it's someone you know."
"Inger?"
I had to smile. "No, not Inger. Good grief, no. I mean, she's attractive enough, but she's awfully young for me."
"Dad, Inger is a babe-and-a-half. You should have seen her when she changed to go out with her friends. I mean, forget Ms. Allen!"
I felt my face redden.
"Did I say something wrong, Dad?" He'd obviously mistaken my blush for something else.
"No, not a chance." I grinned. "So you're having less trouble concentrating on your English books?"
"Dad, Inger is definitely hot when she wants to be." He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "So, anyhow, who's this date of yours?"
I blushed again. "It's, uh, your English teacher."
He blinked rapidly, twice. "You're shitting me."
"I shit you not." This was our secret, ultimate-promise-of-truth code. "We sort of hit it off at the parent-teacher conference. In fact, it was her idea to leave the Heinlein around for you that got us talking."
"Wow. You and Ms. Allen."
"Bill - this has to be between us. And I'm going to ask you to do something very, very difficult. I don't think I could do it if I was in your shoes. You have to act like nothing's changed in class with her - because nothing has changed in class with her."
He thought that over for a few moments. Then: "Yeah, that is going to be tough. You know, sometimes the guys make remarks about her - "
I shook my head. "And they'll keep doing it, and it's OK. Even if you do, it's OK - but I'd prefer you didn't."
"Does Inger know?"
"Yes, she does. She's going to stay till 10 tomorrow night."
"What happens if you get lucky?"
I laughed. "Son, women - especially 'babes' - do not line up around the block for a middle-aged account executive. At least, not for this one. I do not expect to get my bones jumped. In fact, I'd be amazed. I'll be home at 10."
The next day, before he left for school, Bill wished me luck, but it didn't have an immediate effect. Oh, dinner with Bernice was quite lovely, and afterward we went to Bradley's for drinks and some music, and then I walked her to her door in a light snow and - to my astonishment - she solved that awkward moment for us by leaning up and giving me a peck on the lips... and then did it again, but it was less of a peck and turned into a clinch. Then there was another awkward moment, only this time I solved it.
"I wouldn't mind doing a lot more of that except for two things," I said. "One, it's getting damn cold out here, and, two, I have a 10 o'clock appointment."
She smiled beautifully. "We'll have to check our schedules, Roger. I really enjoyed tonight."
"Call you tomorrow?"
"I'd like that. Thank you for a lovely evening."
"The pleasure was entirely mine. Good night."
I waited till she'd closed the inner door of her brownstone apartment building, and then I strode home, feeling pretty proud of myself.
Bill Speaks:
It was about seven o'clock when we finished clearing away the dishes - Inger and I made a casserole - when she said, "I wonder how your father's date is going." I wondered, too. What I was wondering more about was Inger. How could she be such a babe and dress so plain all the time? As she bent over to put the casserole pan in the dishwasher, I saw her baggy sweater bulge with her tits and instantly got another boner. It seemed like half the time I was near her I was getting a boner. It was driving me nuts. I excused myself and went into the bathroom for the second time that evening and quickly whipped it out and started beating. In about a minute, I splattered another big load into the sink. It took me about 10 minutes to clean up and calm down enough to leave.
Inger was just sitting on the couch, looking at me funny, like she knew what I'd been doing. I went to turn on the television, thinking she was going to study like she usually did if she stayed late, but she asked me not to turn on the set and to come sit with her for a minute.
"Bill, I want to talk something over with you - just between us."
Uh-oh, I thought, sitting at the far end of the couch.
"You were just masturbating."
I felt my face get hot, but one thing I don't do - ever - is lie. On the other hand, I didn't have to confess, either.
"There's nothing wrong or unnatural about it. And I don't think it's dirty or some kind of shit like that."
I was a little surprised to hear Inger talk like that, but I got her point.
"But I want to talk with you about..." She took a deep breath. "Bill, were you jerking off thinking about your father's date?"
My face got hotter.
"I mean, if she's half the babe you say she is, I can understand that, but it's going to be tough enough treating her just as a teacher; making her your fantasy object will just make it more difficult."
I had a tough time talking. "Well, uh, what makes you think it was her?"
"As soon as I mentioned your father's date, you got a hard-on and went to jerk off."
"That wasn't it."
She shrugged. "Well, suit yourself."
"Really, it wasn't!"
She didn't say anything, but I could tell she was far from convinced.
"That was just coincidence. It was - " I shut my mouth.
She looked really puzzled.
"It was what?"
"It was you!"
She blinked, like she was surprised.
"Oh, Bill, I'm just plain ol' Inger and - "
"No, you're not. I saw you when you were dressed to meet your friends. You were so hot I - "
I stopped my mouth before I went any farther.
Her face changed, like... softened.
"You mean I turned you on like that? This long after? That's kind of hard to swallow and - "
"Don't believe me?" I stood and stepped in front of her. "Look!"
She looked, right at my crotch where Boner Number Three was making itself obvious.
"Oh, my goodness! Did I do that?"
She looked up at me.
"Oh, dear." Her breathing quickened. "Little old dowdy me made you get all stiff like that..." She put her hand on it, and I groaned. "Well, I can't have you studying algebra in a state like that. What shall we do about it?"
"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom - "
"Not at all."
"Wha - "
She was unzipping my pants and pushing them and my Jockeys down.
"There does seem to be quite a bit to it for a young man your age."
I moaned when she took my dick in her hand.
"Maybe I can help."
She started stroking me. Her face was all red, and she was panting.
"It's so nice and hard and - are you going to cum soon?"
I grunted.
"Well, we can't make a mess in here..." Still stroking, she reached for the Kleenex. "Come on, and let it go."
"Oh, shit..." I gasped and started shooting. Even though I'd whacked off twice, my knees started to bend, I came so hard - and a lot. Inger's Kleenex got soaked pretty fast, and then there was stuff running over her hand and wrist. I came some more before I stopped, and she squeezed the last few drops out, then used another Kleenex to clean off my cock. She looked up at me and smiled.
"That was nice," she said. She put her hand to her mouth and licked up some of my jizz, then gave a little shiver. "And it tastes nice, too. Straighten out your clothes and flush this." She waited for me to pull my pants back up, then handed me the tissue. I kind of stumbled to the bathroom, wondering if I'd just had a dream. I flushed the tank and tossed some cold water on my face before returning to the living room. Inger waved me to her side, then patted the cushion next to her.
"No secrets, OK?"
I nodded.
"No - you have to say it."
"OK - no secrets."
"Have you ever done that with anyone before?"
I blushed. "Well, a couple of times my friends and I kind of... well, we have a contest to see who can shoot the farthest or the most."
"But that's it?"
"Yeah."
"But you get horny a lot, and beat off a lot?"
"Well, I guess so."
She took a deep breath. "Well, I can understand that. I get horny, too. A lot. And I masturbate a lot. Sometimes it seems almost anything can get me hot. So I try to be careful. You know about AIDS and that, right?"
"And how." Did I ever! Between Dad and school - I felt like a walking brochure from the Centers for Disease Control. Or GMHC.
She thought for a few seconds. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll take care of you if you'll take care of me."
"Take care of you -?"
"I'll teach you how. But two rules: No one else can ever find out, and we tell each other everything - including about anyone else we play with. How does that sound?"
It took me a minute to realize what she was offering. But once I did, I told her how it sounded:
"That sounds completely excellent."
"Good. Now, have you ever seen a naked woman in the flesh?"
I shook my head. She smiled, stood and led me to my room.
Roger Speaks:
I got home at 10 o'clock, on the dot. To my surprise, Inger was alone in the living room, reading her poly sci text. Bill wasn't in sight.
"He's sacked out," she said quietly. "Said he was really tired."
"I hope he's not coming down with anything. Usually I have to drive him to bed."
She shrugged. "He ate enough. Maybe he's just worn out. How was your date?"
My smile told her plenty. She grinned at me, her face blossoming. She stood and stretched languidly. "Well, I'm a bit tired myself. I think I'll head home. Are you going to see her again?"
"Almost certainly. I think we're really hitting it off."
"Good on you." She took her coat, and I helped her into it. Something about the way she moved and talked seemed more relaxed than I'd ever seen her before. "Good night." I handed her an envelope. "Thanks, Inger. I really appreciate it."
"Hey, any time I can, I'm glad to do it. He's a good kid."
"The best." I beamed. She beamed right back.
The next morning, Bill seemed pretty cheerful and filled with energy. "I'm glad to see you feeling OK."
He gave me an odd look.
"Inger said you were pretty beat last night and turned in early."
His expression relaxed, and he grinned. "I was definitely beat. I was going to stay up and grill you about your date, but - " He shrugged. "How did it go?"
"It really went well, Bill. I like her, and I think she likes me. We're going to see each other again."
"That's swell, Dad." Oddly, that seemed to be the end of it for him. I'd spent my time in the shower rehearsing how I'd deal with detailed questions and felt a bit let down that he wasn't more curious. On the other hand, Bill was bright and advanced for his years. He might well have concluded for himself that there were some things we would not be discussing in detail. I was proud of my little guy; he was growing up!
That afternoon, at just after four, Bernice called me. (We'd agreed that it would be best for her to call me at work, since it might be putting too much pressure on Bill to have him answer the phone and find his "babe-and-a-half" English teacher asking to talk to his father.) How did my schedule look? I told her that it depended on whether Inger was available, and I'd have to get back to her. She was agreeable. I called home. After the ninth ring, Bill answered the phone, a bit out of breath.
"Oh, uh, Inger bet me I couldn't do 20 pushups."
"Really. Who won the bet?"
"Me."
"Oh, good." I was surprised. Bill had never had much athletic inclination beyond some interest in basketball. "Let me talk to her for a moment, please?"
"Sure."
"Hi, Mr. Millman."
She was out of breath, too.
"Well, that's what he won. I had to do as many as he did."
"What's with this pushups business?"
"Well, I figure that exercise is important, helps the circulation and alertness. Since this algebra has an association with sleepville, I figured the stimulation might help."
It sounded logical, in an odd way. What the hell. I asked about her availability on Friday or Saturday night.
"Oh, no problem! Which will it be? Or both?"
I had to laugh. "You're more optimistic than I am. Friday would be best." I paused. "It might be a little later."
"Are we talking changing the date on the clock?"
"With any luck. I have a very good feeling about the way it's going."
"I'm really glad for you to hear that."
"Don't say anything yet. I'll tell him myself."
"Bye!"
Then I called Bernice. She was very pleased that it was Friday. I explained that Bill and I tended to reserve Saturdays as our day together. We had a whole little routine that ended with going out late Saturday night to bring in the Sunday Times and News and some snack food for watching late night movies together. She thought that was wonderful. Then she told me she was glad it was Friday because it was a day closer, and she really wanted to see me.
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Hookup SitesReddit Swingers, aka r/Swingers! Swinging is not for everyone, and you fucking know it. But the fact that you are here reading this tells me you wouldn't mind getting down with any kind of swinger, cuckold, or hotwife situation. I don't know how you freaks pull it off. I mean, it takes an extremely fucked up individual to swap partners, don't you think? Well, that is if you have a partner that is down for that shit to start with. Some of you motherfuckers don't realize how fucking lucky you...
Reddit NSFW ListReddit Ginger, aka r/Ginger! Some people have a certain kind of woman in mind which they deem as the ‘perfect woman’, and will fap to this kind of woman almost instantaneously because they’re THAT attracted to her for various reasons. Sometimes it’s because she reminds them of a certain ex-girlfriend which they’re still in love with, other times it’s because she looks an awful lot like their mother, and sometimes it’s because of personal preference.I know that there’s probably plenty of dudes...
Reddit NSFW ListGingerby theduck1930This is a true story. Everything happened just as it is told. Names are changed to protect the innocent if there are any.The year was 1970. I was on a Fraternal Order of Eagles drill team. On this occasion I was not in uniform, I had stopped off from work to have a drink in the Eagles bar. The bar was nearly void of customers except for some women who were all on the Auxiliary Drill Team. I knew all of them because the men’s drill team and women’s drill team all traveled to...
Ringer By Cherysse St. Claire © As always, the characters, places and events depicted in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely the product of your overactive imagination. I ain't takin' the rap for it, Bud! ***** "Nicole Norman, you have to be out of your mind," I murmured to myself disbelievingly, as I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. I was in the pink tonight - Shocking Pink to be exact. This was a first for me. Usually, I'm...
We were not really a swingers but it happened to be as we were married for six years & Sarika my wife she is small but full of sex our sex was never dull because she is hot at her age of 28 she has lots to give me we are a social animals & we have few close couples which our good friends we often have party’s so we enjoy one couple that is Dinesh & Annu were very close actually Annu is very close to my Sarika & one night we were watching a blue film in it there were two couples who were have...
Ok this story happened about 1 year ago, my names Dave, im a 23 yr old with (so my gf tells me) perfect pecks and fantastic thighs. None of this matters because I also happen to have a 9 inch cock. Anyway one day last year I got a text from my mate john, he sed he wanted me 2 come on a duble date wiv him and a new girl. So me and my girlfriend (Alice) went on the date that night.We arrived at the bar and they wernt there yet so we went and got some drinks from the bar, we sat down and we musta...
These stories was written as part of a Hopper Swap, where two writers get together and use two story ideas, one from each writer and make them into a story. The other writer on this occasion was SaraH. We had one week to write the story. I've put the story ideas at the end so they don't spoil the story. "I tell you it isn't like that!" shouted Marlene. "Once you get married, it's forever, it's not just until someone else attracts your attention!" "You have no idea what men are...
“Nicole Norman, you have to be out of your mind,” I murmured to myself disbelievingly, as I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. I was in the pink tonight – Shocking Pink to be exact. This was a first for me. Usually, I’m the ‘classy brunette professional’ type; sophisticated, a little aloof, definitely not easy pickings. My friend Cindy had been on my case for weeks, telling me I needed to loosen up a little, take chances, have more fun. “Try going blonde for a change,” she badgered. “Get a...
Reddit Lingerie, aka r/Lingerie! Lingerie makes any man's penis go from 0 to 100 in seconds - at least the men who aren't cripplingly addicted to drawn porn and video games like the Porn Geek is. There's just something so equal parts mesmerizing, enticing and appealing about a woman in a nice lace lingerie bodysuit that just oils up my gears and starts grinding them to create a perfect melody of sexual tension. Lingerie really is undeniably sexy regardless of where you see it. In essence, it...
Reddit NSFW ListIntroduction: Tender moments with my sister I had no idea my sister liked her sex kinky. She told me all about it in one of those girlie chats where all the fruity details about your sex life get revealed. She described how shes very sexually submissive to her man, how she lets him control her and use her when and where he wants. She said he called her his fuck toy and that hed spank her hard if she didnt slut herself to his satisfaction. She told me how she loved playing at being his whore,...
Reddit Fingering, aka r/fingering! Hands down, one of the best websites that could satisfy all your dirty needs is Reddit.com. This website is free and driven by its community; thus, everything you find on Reddit.com is uploaded and made by/for the community. I am not here to talk about Reddit in general, even though I love to do that. I am here to talk about one of its subreddits called r/Fingering/.Now, there is really no rocket science behind what r/Fingering/ has to offer; it is right there...
Reddit NSFW ListMy husband and I like to swing. He love watching me get fucked and suck off other guys...then for the next few days wants to fuck me like rabbit. It i so hot to fuck in front of him and have a new hard cock in me or do it with a girl after he fucked her!!!!!!!1
The other woman was a tall blonde. She was about the same height as Hank’s wife, Ana, and very pretty. She and Ana had similar builds and personality traits, which made him more attracted to her. Oddly enough, he wasn’t cheating on his wife. Ana was fully aware that he was having sex with another woman because Ana was with them. Hank thought back to their wedding day. It was the best day of his life, but he never thought he would be making love to a woman other than his wife, and he definitely...
SwingerIn the silence of midnight and street lamps I open my car door, slip onto the black leather and turn the ignition. My head leans back onto the headrest and I cannot help but smile to myself. A dark laugh seeps through my burgundy lips, because right now...I don't have to see you to know exactly what you are doing.---The party has fizzled out. You make your excuses, climb the stairs to your room and shut the door behind you. The alcohol has not worn off yet. Clothing slips from your toned body...
Straight SexDani stepped off the bus into the madness that comprised the downtown business district at lunchtime. Class was over; now it was time to keep her lunch date with Brent. She turned many a male head as she made her way across the courtyard toward the sixteen-story building in which Brent worked. Dani was quite a looker; she was a twenty-year-old college coed with a gorgeous fair complexion, long, flowing blonde hair and expressive blue eyes. Five-foot- six with a figure to die for, she had on a...
The meeting had gone on far too long, and still, they were getting no further. Gillian was, by now, fed up as she had no input into this meeting and frustrated by the indecision to move it forward. She had made plans for the evening, but they had gone out of the window. It would be too difficult to make it home, change, and meet the date. Gillian had resigned herself to the fact that she would spend the night alone, again. Gillian was not an unattractive woman. In fact, she was good-looking,...
SeductionMarina's nerves were singing so hard she jumped when the screen door slapped shut behind her. Her pulse hammered with exhilaration. Her bikini felt smaller now than when she first tried it on and debated whether to go out and let Ryan see her in it. The stretch of the bright cords against the ripe opulence of her body dug in her flesh like restraints. Every step she'd taken in her garden under the watchful gaze of her beautifully made neighbor made the tiny garment feel smaller and...
“Charlie, you said you loved me,” she muttered, eyes looking a little wet. “Yeah, so? We’ve both said it now. It’s out in the open. Let’s go. I want to show my date off to the world. She’s a pretty one!” She kissed me softly on the lips, moved back to her seat, put her seatbelt on and just sat looking forward with the biggest smile. After taking that in for a couple seconds, I cleared her dress, shut the door and got back in my side. We took off and she reached up to the radio to turn it on...
The night before her mind was going in circles imagining what would transpire the next day. Just the ideas that filled her mind made her so hot, but she was told to be a good girl and not touch herself. The next morning she awoke with a dripping wet pussy, even in her dreams she was filled with excitement about today's events. She left the house that morning excited and anxious. Her master gave her a very specific set of instructions. She did not even need to read the instructions, she had...
Hi Friends, Mai is site pe ayi huyi kahaniyon ko padhta rhta hu aur mujhe bahut si kahaniyan kaafi interesting lagti hain. Mai un sabhi ka shukrgujar hun jo itni achi aur dilchasp kahaniyan likhte hain. Mera b man hai ki mai bhi apni life ka experience aap sbke sath share karu aur isliye main b apko ek Sachi kahani sunane jar aha hun ummeed hai apko pasand ayegi. Waise is site pe ye mera pahla prayas hai kahani likhne ka. Dosto mera naam Rohit hai aur meri umr 40 yrs hai. Mai Dilli main rahta...
I woke up later than normal that Saturday and shuffled my way into the kitchen. Today was our normal day to play out a scene. Setting aside a day for our games was something that had come about while I was working construction and still trying to build the business, but it had stuck. The smell of French toast brought her out of our room. She was wearing a black crop top that had "kitten" printed across the front and pink lace panties. Her arms wrapped around me while juggled out the last two...
NovelsSam Hopkins and I started out on our search for his brother Tony. Since we had no idea how long the trip was going to take, we had a single pack mule along with us. This mule was trained to follow without a lead rope, so she was very easy to get along with. We rode to the place where we had spotted the three sets of tracks leading off into the who-knows-where and began our pursuit. Most of the time the tracks were clear and easy to follow, but a few times, Sam had to work on following the...
I grew up in a small, very closed town in northern Ohio. The township was basically ruled by the local church. Which is to say that it was a rather repressive enviroment. If you werent a member of the church in good standing you were ostrocized. Basically, sex nudity, and almost fun of anykind was harshly frowned upon. No alcohol consumption or anything that could be considered a sin by the hierarchy of the church was strictly prohibited. Right after my fifteenth bithday my parebts died in...
I once read somewhere that only mature women can wear purple successfully. I hate the word mature. It connotes old age, rather that sophistication, which is closer to the mark. But you can be sophisticated and not mature. If you have not experienced this, you will just have to trust me until you experience it for yourself. Besides, old was not a term I would use. She admitted to being over 40, but standing in the opening of my cube, I would not have put her at more than 35 and judging by the...
Activity log 17100.12 "Who is 'he' Master Chief? Who is 'he?'" I asked Martinez. The silence in the H2 was broken only by Arti's crunching as she ate a carrot. Eventually, Martinez spoke through his avatar. "I don't know who 'he' is. I don't know when it was said – or will be said. I don't know shit. Except that he said Maria is dead." If an avatar's voice can be said to sound morose, his did. Arti said, around the carrot she was crunching, "She'd be what? Ten or twelve...
Coming OutSophie Tyler was a bit of an enigma, people thought they knew her but the truth is that no-one really did, and even if someone did, not many would understand her. Sophie was a 28 year old male to female transvestite, real name Andy, a builder by trade, of slight build, 5 foot 9 inches tall, enjoyed a pint with the lads once in a while, but loved nothing more to be attired in her favourite dresses or skirt and top combinations, a bit of make-up, jewellery, and a quite long red...
I’m gonna be a father again! I expected my wife and I were probably going to have at least one more child in the future. But finding out my adulterous student who got me to teach her how to be a woman only about two months ago was now already pregnant was a shocker I was unprepared for. “WHAT?!?” I almost yelled in total shock as Judy Whitmore, Becky’s mom, had confronted me with the news while Becky was at cheerleading practice. I had known she had been out sick from school the whole...
The boys came back before she finished the story. "I didn't know that I had been. Then I remembered why. 'Oh, Jeff—I busted my pretty wings!' " She read, as she heard the hatch open in the roof. Unconsciously, she picked up the pistol from her lap, just in case. There hadn't been any shots, and the 'thud, thud' of plastic bags filled with books hitting the floor was reassuring. She finished the story, and then handed the book to her sister. Two weeks, in a way it was a relief, and...
Comic Con Con By Jena Corso Edited by Angela Meyers Chapter 6 "So, they loved you dude," Henry yelled as they got back to Melissa's dressing area. "Dude?" laughed Melissa. "Seriously?" "I mean Selina, right? That was her name, or Natasha, or Cat bitch, or who gives a shit!" said downing some champagne. "I'll call you anything you want, and I could almost kiss you right on the lips." "Stay out of my territory, baldie," said Melissa, kissing Benny. "It's fine. He's not my...
Hello my name is gowtham. I am from bangalore.this is the story of my first sex with my virgin girlfriend. M about 6feet and with good slim physic ..ill come to the story ..this half happened shortly in last month in my home . We were committed from past two years and I was asking for sex next month of getting committed to her but she didn’t agree and finally the day came all my parents wen to to Mumbai for some family function and I was waiting for a call She called me up at 10 am Everyone...
AWAKENINGS 2 As soon as I walked away, I felt Id made a mistake inviting Randy to come by. Id acted on impulse and now had to somehow deal with it – carefully. After Id jokingly asked if he had any more of that Goulash hed spiked earlier, wed laughed and then hed said, How about just a drink? I had foolishly agreed and now regretted it. In the back of my mind, I did want to find out how much of that raunchy night he remembered. A lot of it had been vague for me, and I hoped it was for him as...
A week later a large ship pulled into the harbour with all the parts I asked Saudi Arabia to provide. When they went into storage I found each piece to be as good as I had demanded it to be. That night I called King Faysal and invited him to come to Japan to see his son fly the first section into orbit. We discussed many things including my telephone/computer system and how it would help his people. He would come and see for himself what could happen with most of his family. The prince's...
Seven of Swords Beth said very little to the minotaur as they climbed the trail to the top of the cliffs. She could tell he wanted to comfort her, but there weren’t words or deeds to make the situation right. Her plan was to speak with Naia and Sofia right away, to see if either of them could offer her any help. There were only a few days to make her decision, and she wouldn’t be able to live with any of her options. She remembered when she was little, her parents started arguing...
After a hot shower. I sat my desk naked to get some work done before I head back onto the floor. Some one knocked my door. I didn't have to get dressed before a guy walk through the door and. I told him to have a seat. He was wearing a cut off t-shirt exposed his midriff and tight gym that showed off his small package. He said it was good to have a place to workout and not half to act straight and be judged. I told him more straight than bi so I have seen what was happening to the gay community...
Once when Jim was staying at my house to keep me company while my parents were out of town, I got him a blind date with a girl I knew. I warned him to go easy because this girl was very shy. Well the short version of the story is, I was looking for him and his date around my house and I slowly opened the bedroom door of the room he was using and got to see the back of his blind date as they kissed and all she was wearing were her panties! I closed the door quietly and they didn’t come into...
Day Twenty-nine - Monday Sue and I woke at the same time, just before six. We played, and showered, teasing each other before dressing in jeans and regular T-shirts, before going to my trailer to start coffee. Sue thought biscuits would be good this morning so she whipped up a batch of Bisquick and put them in the oven. As soon as the coffee was done, I turned on the patio light drawing our crew like mosquitoes to light. Some bouncy, some dragging, some dressed saucily, some plain. Glenda...
Mickey Mod and Cadence Lux return home after a night out, but it’s clear that something is bothering Mickey. When Cadence inquires as to why he’s so pissed off, Mickey complains that for the entire night, Cadence was hitting on other guys. Cadence is baffled, claiming that she was only talking to them platonically. By the look of it, this isn’t the first time Mickey has scolded her for something like this, and she’s growing tired of it. When Mickey remarks that Cadence...
xmoviesforyouDoctor Nancy came into the room. Billy was grinning as he watched her fumbling with the buttons of her smock. Joan sat on her heels, her eyes just as hat as ever. Gail, too, sat on her heels, her hand resting on Joan’s long thigh. “You should have locked the door,” Doctor Nancy said in a thick voice as she pulled her smock open. As always, she was naked under it. Her tits jiggled slightly as she went to the door, turning the lock. “A patient might have walked in on you.” Joan gave a throat...
Friends this is part 2 of the series. This is a story about me, my wife, my mother in law and my wife’s sister. I fucked all of them. Ours was a love marriage and my wife’s absence resulted in making love to MIL and then my SIL. We have been happily married couples for the last 6 months. We used to have sex at least 3 times a week. Saturday additional which used to be special and long sessions. Nisha loved it when I used to eat her pussy. She used to say I am the best. (I don’t know who is was...
IncestThere was a knock at the door, it was him with our coffee's , as he placed them on the coffee table she snarled at him in saying " on your knees where you belong !!Me on hearing those words started to get me aroused yes very much so,Up to this point i said i don't even know your names , she smiled and said for professional reasons to do with their jobs they used false names , " you can call us roy & ally " i added that that was a sensible precaution, so i asked as we drank our coffee's what...
My mother had just told me that she needed to get married, and that she wanted me to be the groom. I was shocked and wasn't sure what to say. I was about to say something when an unexpected guest arrived. She wasn't very tall, but she wasn't short either. I just knew I didn't want to get on her bad side because she looked ticked off. She saw me and marched her way towards me. She demanded, "Where is she? Why wasn't I invited to this ... this thing? I bet you told her not to invite me...
Reyna Delacruz was covering for her mom. She was supposed to do the cleaning today. She was only 19. Sean let her in the house but was filming. He claimed he would also film her mom. Anyway Reyna was super cute. Sean couldn’t keep his camera from shaking and zooming in and out. Finally he asked if she would clean in just underwear for $200. This gave the camera so much more esthetically pleasing shots. Then another $100 to get her naked. And another $100… wait, she refused the money, she just...
xmoviesforyou"OH FUCK ... WHAT TIME IS IT?" Sven's anxious voice quickly roused me out of a deep sleep. I let my eyes open partway and through the soft light drifting in around the drapes, I saw him leaning over to look at the alarm clock beside the bed. "SHIT!" he exclaimed as he hurriedly threw back the sheets and hopped out of bed. "Wh ... what's wrong?" Kurt asked in a groggy voice from the other bed. "I forgot to set the alarm. I'm scheduled to take Rogue for a walk-through first thing...
Joey White, a famous social media influencer, is getting ready for a huge Halloween party she’s throwing. Her dad is helping her set up, then the DJ, DJ Lovey Dovey arrives and instantly fanboys over Joey. She flaunts her ass to him before crawling under the DJ Table and secretly sucking his dick while her dad is on the couch. Once the dad leaves them alone, Johnny can finally worship that ass. He oils up that booty and then she gives him the blowjob of his dreams before he fucks her hard...
xmoviesforyouI am such a pervert. Yes, this is going thru my mind as I fantasize about me sharing my wife (Liv) with another man. People probably would kick me out of this town if they knew how much this desire overwhelms me. I am definitely not trying to make her a slut or anything. It is more of a desire of me wanting to give her the utmost pleasure a husband can give to his spouse. Here is an example. My darling wife bought me a pair of lounge pants for X-mas and I was wearing them last night. I said,...
My Mum was going to be staying with me while the builders were working on her house.I have a good friend of mine who comes over regularly to chill out, play video games and get drunk, the night's usually end with us giving each other blow jobs or me bouncing up and down on his cock, I love being fucked by him.I wasn't expecting my Mum to come over until later that evening, she has a key to my flat and I told her to let herself in. My friend came round on his way home from work so thought I...
You pour me another glass of wine, the night air is cooling but the water in the hot tub is keeping us from getting chilled. The party has moved inside but there are still three of us left. You sit snuggled up beside me, legs intertwined under the water. You have one leg over mine and the other spread out to the side, exposing your pussy without being too obvious about it. S sits across from us, we are talking quietly, enjoying the sounds of the night. I had turned off the lights earlier so we...
Finally, the construction of the railroad spur across Circle J property was finished. The construction camp moved on and so did the lowlifes with it. I heaved a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed: both Helen and Martha could see the change in me. They both pestered me enough so that I gave in and told them what had worried me. To my surprise, they both jumped me with hugs and kisses. They both were really glad to hear how much I cared for them! Well, that was a relief. Now all I had to worry...