Bootleg: A Memoir Chapter 3 free porn video

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I deliberated a great deal over how to tell this part of my story. I have decided to err on the side of caution and leave a discreet gap here in my history. This is not to protect myself, but to prevent causing undue pain to others, as I will presently explain.

In short, they sold me into slavery. The very next morning after Andrew and I were discovered, I was aboard the same slave ship I'd seen from the observation tower the night before. Now -- things went on aboard that ship that I have chosen not to relate, so I will leave a gap where the account of my captivity should be. Suffice it to say that I do not understand men who force themselves upon women. I was spared that because of my noble blood. I realized quickly that my stepfather had done me the mercy of letting them think that I was a virgin, and therefore of inestimable value. The other slave girls resented me because I did not share their pain, and it is on their account that I choose not to give and dwell on my time aboard the slaver.

Instead I turn to our rescue, which came from an unlikely source -- a pirate ship named Freedom's Dawn. Almost every man on the crew was a former slave and they'd made it their mission in life to take any slave ships that crossed their path, kill the crew and free the prisoners. Usually they turned a tidy profit by selling the ship itself, which they would man with a skeleton crew until they could get tucked away in a safe little port -- like Bootleg.

Delray was part of the crew assigned to sailing the slaver back to Bootleg. He was to become one of three lovers who were also good friends. I always fondly thought of him as the romantic one of the group, an unlearned pirate with the soul of a poet. Handsome, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a sturdy sailor's build, he had a compassionate nature and a genius for understanding other people.

He found me lurking down in a corner of the cargo hold, out of sight of the pirates and the other slave girls who made me feel guilty with their haunted, resentful stares. He took me under his wing, saw that I was warm and well fed. Every evening he'd come down and keep me company, and it wasn't long before he'd coaxed my entire story out of me.
“And your mother just let him sell you?" he asked in horror.

"She didn't have much choice. She was a woman, you see." I said bitterly. Quite naturally, the whole thing still rankled.

He repeated the name of my stepfather over to himself as if committing it to memory. "If I ever meet him Georgette, you can bet I'll make him sorry."

Delray was the son of a former slave, and very much against the slave trade. He'd grown up in Bootleg as the eldest of twelve children. Like most of the town, he was completely uneducated, but unlike many, he had a desire to learn. More for something to do than anything, I began tutoring him in reading and writing. He was elated at the idea, but we kept it quiet because his shipmates would never have let him hear the end of it.

Teaching Delray helped keep my mind off the question of how I was to make a living. I'd never worked in my life and was completely unfit for supporting myself.

"Well, you could try whoring," was Delray's frank suggestion. "There's nothing wrong with it..." he hastily added, correctly interpreting the disgusted look on my face. "In Bootleg there ain't no one around to say it's wrong. It's just a business like fishing or weaving, or whatever. Shoot, even my father goes and visits the brothels now and then. My mother knows but she don't care. You have to have fun now and then -- ain't good to work all the time."

"If I'm going to bed anyone it will be because I want to do it, not because I'm being paid to do it." I said, But even as I spoke I wondered if I'd be able to stick to that resolution. How desperate might I become as I began to get hungry? What was ever going to become of me?

"We'll figure something out." said Delray mildly. "I'll keep an eye on you, help you settle and all."

I watched his hand holding the charcoal crayon he was practicing with. It was a working man's hand with a ragged nail and a rough palm. The mention of sex made me aware of his masculinity. Sitting thigh to thigh I could feel his body heat and his warm breath on my cheek as we bent over his work. A little alarmed by the force of the sudden desire I felt for him, I suggested we go above deck for fresh air.

He quickly assented. He was always trying to get me to go up there, but I stayed below and out of sight as much as possible. Out on deck we settled into a quiet little nook under the eaves of the ship's cabin. A pair of sailors walked by staring at us curiously and I was glad that they didn't pause.

Delray was very quiet, his blue eyes gazing out over the open sea in deep thought. "What is it?" I asked.
"Nah. Ain't right to say. 'Specially not....well never mind."

"What is it?" I repeated, casting about for any topic to get my mind off of the illicit thoughts running through it.

"I was wondering....when you told your story.....it sounded to me like you didn't get much fun out of it. If you get what I mean."

"Oh." I said, my face flushing. "Well...it was fun I suppose. I didn't dislike it."

"I hope that I've never left a girl thinking that at least she didn't dislike it." said Delray derisively. "You don't even really realize what you missed, do you?"

"Well...I suppose it should have felt better than it did somehow. He seemed to enjoy it more than I did." I remembered the fire in Andrew's eyes, the tension in his body just before he'd come. Again I felt that feeling that I'd been cheated somehow.

"It ought to have felt so good that you couldn't stop screaming his name. He must be quite a guy." said Delray, his voice oddly flat. He repeated Andrew's name, apparently committing it to memory too.

For a while we were quiet again. Twice Delray opened his mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it, and closed it again. "What is it?" I asked.

He turned to face me, one shoulder leaning against the wall as he looked down into my upturned face. "Want to find out what you missed? You know I can drive a girl crazy with just my tongue and a finger or two."

I hadn't the slightest idea then how a girl could be satisfied with a tongue and a pair of fingers, but I was certainly curious. Again came that overwhelming sense of his maleness and an annoying surge of moisture between my legs. I tried to think of a reason to say no, and couldn't come up with one.

He was waiting for an answer, looking down at me with his hair ruffling in the breeze. I knew by the look in his eyes that he was dying to touch me, but he waited until I nodded my assent before he reached out to caress one of my breasts. His thumb rubbed my nipple through the fabric of my blouse and I felt it harden. Suddenly his eyes went from my face, to focus on something over my head. He swiftly withdrew his hand and waited for a sailor to pass by before saying "Let's go back below."

A group of ex slave girls were gathered around the hatch as we descended. I averted my eyes as we went by, but their accusing glances were not enough to make me feel guilty for what I was about to do. My life was falling apart too, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to enjoy what little pleasures were left.

"You've been teaching me for the last two weeks." said Delray as we made our way to my corner of the cargo hold. "Now I'm going to teach you some things....taking time is worth it."

It seemed to take him forever to undress me, a stark contrast to that first, rushed time with Andrew. He moved slowly, with something like reverence, as if he were unwrapping a special gift. But that's something I've learned about Delray over the years --- he loves and respects women -- he does regard each one that yields to him as a unique gift to be treasured. He was, and is, a hopeless romantic.

Once I was bare, he laid me out on the blankets he'd snared for me when he'd first discovered my habitation of the cargo hold. By then I was soaking wet, my swollen clitoris actually throbbing for attention. Delray removed only his shirt, revealing a sun bronzed, sturdy chest with a fine mat of dark curly hair.

He was so different from my idea of what a pirate was. His hand was rough as it cupped one of my breasts, but the touch was warm and gentle. He kissed the nipple, sucking on it until it flushed a deep rose red. Instinctively, I rubbed my hips against his thigh in mounting desperation for release. The passion he was rousing in me was becoming almost too much to take. When had Andrew ever made me feel like this?

He shifted his attention to the other breast. Arching my back in encouragement with a little gasp of pleasure, I tangled my fingers in his hair and held him close. Down below I could feel a significant bulge in his pants. The knowledge that I aroused him only served to make me throb from head to toe in answering desire.

When my nipples were so sensitized that they almost hurt, he kissed a straight line between my breasts and down my stomach. He paused, and I felt his tongue tease my navel briefly before he continued his descent. As he coaxed my legs open, I propped my head up on my pillow so I could see what he was doing down there.

I saw blue eyes flash up at me before he slid his tongue up the entire length of my dripping slit. "You have a very pretty pussy, Georgette. Did he tell you that?'
Panting slightly, I shook my head.

"No? I guess probably he was in too much of a hurry to notice. He missed out on a lot, I tell you."

I watched him as he continued his intimate exploration of my body with his tongue. Skilled fingers parted the soft folds of my labia like the petals of a flower. His apparent enjoyment of it heightened my arousal as he French kissed me there like he couldn't get enough. Finally his mouth moved to my clitoris, his lips locked around it and he began to apply gentle suction.

This was a wholly new experience for me. I'd never felt anything like it before. I realized vaguely that this was the equivalent of what I'd been doing for Andrew over the last few months. Naively, it had never occurred to me that such an act was possible, and I felt a surge of annoyance with Andrew for not sharing it with me. How selfish.

I moaned as Delray slid two fingers inside me, curled them slightly, and found a spot that made me spasm with pleasure. "What are you doing to my body?" I gasped, amazed at the strength of what he was making me feel. I hadn't known my body was capable of feeling so much pleasure.

Working my clit with one hand, and using the fingers of the other to caress that spot he'd found, he brought me to my first orgasm. I thrashed and writhed and gasped out words that ladies are not supposed to use. But upon hindsight, ladies do not let pirates touch them in certain places, so I suppose it didn't really matter at that point anyway.

"I wouldn't have missed that for anything." said Delray in a satisfied tone, while I caught my breath.
"I want you." I said, reaching for the fastening on his pants.
"You don't have to feel like you owe me or anything."

At that point I wouldn't have cared anyway. All I knew was that he had roused a voracious passion in me -- a hunger that only became stronger the more it was fed. I didn't answer as I pushed him onto his back. He seemed happy to lay back and let me take my time exploring his body, another novelty for me. My curious fingers wandered uninhibited over every inch of Delray's taut, warm flesh. By watching his face and listening to his breath. I swiftly learned just how and where he liked to be touched, and enjoyed exploiting the knowledge.

We he couldn't take it any more, he rolled me onto my back and found me more than ready. He moved slowly, savoring the moment as he gradually filled me. Moving more quickly, he brought us both to climax, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, trying to pull him deeper.

Afterwards, he held me, our bodies still intimately joined. He didn't run off like Andrew always did, having had his way and finished with me. It was the beginning of what would be a long friendship that still exists today. As I laid there with my head on his shoulder, I knew things would never be the same in my life. But I stopped worrying about what was going to become of me, and began to speculate with interest on what I might become now that I was in control of my own life.

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1 year ago
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Chubbys memoir chapter 4

In the last chapter Cchubby managed to find out the reason why his mom would not let any one fuck her. He asked his mother to let him finger fuck her which she agreed and ended fucking her without her knowledge. Continue.... It was already late afternoon and we had to pick up dad and Stella from the airport. So on reaching home we started to pack our things to go back when a call from dad came. Mom put the speakers of the phone on for me to listen to their conversation. “Hello Honey, we will...

Incest
1 year ago
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Memoir of a Blow Job

My heart flutters as I hear him call out, "Blow me, Slut!" I love serving my Sir. I run from my room. My tits bounce and sway as each foot lightly hits the floor. I enter the dark chambers and my pussy tingles. My Sir is a beautiful vision laying on his bed. His cock is thick and hard and it looks like it is ready to be sucked. I slowly walk over to him, unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my tits. Each nipple is hard with anticipation. "Permission to sit up on your bed, Sir," I whisper as I bow...

Oral Sex
3 years ago
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Last December A Memoir

Friends, you are reading this sex story on indiansexstories dot net There I am. Unexpectedly. But yes! Let’s track this from the beginning. I am Kushagra, an introverted, simple guy living in Kolkata. I am 23 years old blessed with a decent organ. After completing my degree, I got a job here and rented an apartment. My apartment is situated inside a society, so there are many blocks. She lived in the same block as mine on a different floor. I live on the fourth floor. The building has five. I...

2 years ago
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An Exceptional Memoir

Hi all of indian sex stories dot net This is my fortunate experience happened recently which any red hot blooded young men long for. Many may not believe this but this is a real incident. This is between me and Deepa Sharma, a trainee in one of the reputed company. I am Anil, a school teacher. Even though I had gone through so many experiences throughout my last 8 years of a teaching career, this one is entirely different. I was staying in a Duplex with my friend for the last 3 years. But I...

2 years ago
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Just A Memoir Of You

The flashbacks of us making love, makes me wet and horny. I am always ready to serve you, but the smell,presence, and your voice is missing. I know its wrong for us to meet up, but the more wrong it is the more turn on it became to me. This feeling makes me morn for your touch, everything just turn right to me that moment. The inner lust for you cock over took myself cautious. I would love to take your cock deep inside my throat again, the gag from taking your cock deep in my air hole,while you...

3 years ago
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HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARK a memoir

HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARKby Rumple Foreskinnote: This is not a work of fiction. Only the names have been changed to protect the author from divorce lawyers and/or para-medics.It was a seductively beautiful Sunday afternoon in Central Park. Around the edge of a small, remote meadow, leaf covered trees, their limbs swaying gently in a light breeze, muffled the sound of distant city traffic. By some miracle, there were no portable radios blaring. The loudest noise came from squirrels and pigeons...

Masturbation
2 years ago
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Moody Fragments a Memoir about Relationships

I am awake now. The long green curtains are still drawn yet I can see behind them that it is daylight now. Morning. Early.I am naked and lying on the top of the covers of the double bed - her bed.I move my head slowly to the left and see that she is still asleep with her long, thick and curly chestnut hair splayed out on the pillow. She is naked too.I run my eyes, feeling kind of like a voyeur and a little guiltily, over the exposed flesh of her body which is half-turned towards me.Her head is...

2 years ago
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Sex Memoir

Reader, I will fail you. You want something from me, and I don’t have it. Maybe you want to cum, and you think I will help you, but I couldn’t care less about helping you finish. If that’s why you’re here, well, you’ll be edging the whole way through. Stop. You don’t want this. And if you’re looking for an entertaining piece of writing, you’re clearly barking up the wrong tree. You will quickly come to the crystalline conclusion that I am in dire need of an editor. The truth is... I’m using...

3 years ago
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Nickys Memoir

By: AWC Just pushing the Penis in the pussy or an ass and then fucking as best and as long, as lustily before releasing the juices for each other is not even half the story of sex. Nicholas Rudders had been having sex for many, many years and he was known to all his friends as the Maestro of this trade. They all knew that there was not a girl or a boy in town, who would dare deny Nick for being under him after seeing his sex pole for the pure and selfish sexual episode of satisfying Nick’s...

3 years ago
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The Art Of The DL A Memoir

If you've never had a weasel hack your hand off, steal your jewelry, and condemn you to spend thousands of years roaming as an impotent, disembodied spirit, let me clue you in: it doesn't beat torturing your enemies, their families, and their neighbors slowly to death in terms of entertainment value. I should have known better than to back the little weasels in a corner and then go toe-to-toe with them. I could have just had the damn mountain flip upside down on Isildur for crying out loud,...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 1

This then is my life from my viewpoint. At least that part of which I wish to retain for the rest of my days which are not all that many, I am sure. I was born in London in the spring of 1834. I had four brothers and three sisters and it happened that I was the fifth of the lot and the only one alive by the end of 1854. Life was hard. My parents tried to give us all an honest upbringing and decent education but could not compete with the likes of cholera, influenza and tuberculosis all so...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 2

I am, sir," Dorian Gray went on, "a gentleman who has sold his very soul for a very foolish purpose -- to keep my youth and beauty." "Oh, come sir do you expect me to believe..." I stopped, clamping my lips shut remembering the events of the last hour. "I see you recall the rather strange sight of me being dashed against the pavement and run over rough-shod by the carriage, eh?" I could barely nod my agreement. He casually poured himself another brandy and offered me more of the...

4 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 3

At university the following morning I studied my fellow third year students looking for one who was truly my peer. I say this not because I'm a snob, although I may well be one. But because of the age difference and my military service, both of which have caused me to be more mature physically and mentally then they. Not only did I not find one among them that I thought might make a worthwhile contribution to my sexual dilemma; but I reached a decision in the process of examining them and...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 4

October 1857 Several months passed quickly and I had all but forgotten the Mooring sisters. Still I had not had any but the slightest intimacies with a female of any age since that last afternoon of carnal wantonness. I concerned myself with getting my home in order, going to Sotheby's on a weekly basis and picking up excellent pieces, both of art and furniture and appliances. Finally, with the house fully furnished and both a housekeeper and servant hired, I decided it was time to look...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 5

Doll, using her dainty left hand, gently stroked the length of my prick and on reaching it's zenith, spied a droplet of my seed appear at the tip. I pursed my lips and waited tensely to see what would transpire. I say this because women tend to react differently to the actions of a man's prick. While almost all but the most jaded are somewhat fascinated by this wondrous instrument, they go about handling one differently. That Dolly was no stranger to a man's pride and joy was evident from...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 6

And so it came to be that Dolly moved into Number 7 Saville Row with me. Neither the housekeeper, nor the manservant raised an eyebrow over it for which I was exceedingly grateful. Now I had done some introspective thinking around this time and concluded that I was not a very outgoing personage. I had few, if any friends. I had but few acquaintances; and worse I was perfectly comfortable with the situation. With Dolly as my daily and evening companion my sex life was more than enjoyable. For...

3 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 7

I am not about to give an opinion as to the propriety or impropriety of capital punishment. On this point good men have differed, and will differ, I dare say, for some time to come. What I wish to impress upon the reader is the horrible nature and atrocious effect of a public execution. Dolly and I were passing by Newgate a few weeks later. Twas a Sunday and outside the formidable prison a considerable crowd was gathering. There were respectable men with their wives and children staring at...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 9

That evening, following supper, Baring revealed his ulterior motive. The man was a complete cad. It goes without saying that he had a fixation on seducing young girls, but he now correctly assumed that I had one as well. "Mr. Fogg," said he, "let us get down to brass tacks, shall we?" "You have my undivided attention, sir," I said looking him in the eye. "You are aware that I have a... shall we say, propensity for young women. The younger the better, but not so young as you might...

1 year ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 10

On arriving the following day, I was greeted by Abigail Courtney Baring who provided me with a tour of their sumptuous home and grounds as a pretext in meeting her eldest daughter, Nicole. We found her in the music room. It was a high-ceilinged room containing a grand piano and decorated with wall paintings of satyrs and nymphs romping through a garden, very much like the one around the house, and accompanied by fawns playing pan pipes. The windows, which the paintings surrounded, looked out...

2 years ago
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P Fogg A MEMOIRPart 12

"I truly believe I love you Abigail." "I love you too, Phileas. Now, please tell me why my husband has you here as his guest?" I was silent for a moment, thinking furiously. Then I began to tell her a blatantly concocted tale designed the turn her against Sir Baring and grant me leeway to her daughter Nicole. Knowing that the best of lies are as truthful as possible, I began thusly: "Dearest Abigail, your husband is a very wealthy man. I myself am not poor, but he has it within his...

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