Wonders Of American BackroadsChapter 4: Civil Rights free porn video

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I was at a bit of a loss. Did this start out as the best year of all time or the worst? Of course, celebrating the New Year with Alice was an incredible blast. We might have no real future together, but there was no question that we both loved each other. Two weeks later, she was gone. There was no chance that we’d see each other until summer. We were both agreed that she needed to focus on school and that required her to be in Montana.

I wandered around some, sort of following wherever Andy and Cassie led. I planned to be in Florida by the first of March so I could indulge in Spring Training games. And bikinis. I definitely have a weakness. It became apparent that my travel style was incompatible with Andy and Cassie. They picked goals: ‘We’re going here.’ Then they would drive non-stop until they got there, whether it was 20 miles or 500 miles. I max out at 200 miles. I don’t have a destination, just a general direction.

And I shouldn’t give you the impression I wasn’t writing anything. Some author, I don’t remember who now, had posted two or three incest stories a day in December and January. I’m a sucker for those stories, but the more I read of them the more they all sounded the same. Brother and sister look at each other one day, suddenly realize they are madly in love, fuck, get pregnant, and Mom and Dad reveal that they are brother and sister, too. I got to thinking that would just never be the way it would work. So, I decided to write a brother-sister incest story. I had a little experience with the genre since I wrote Blackfeather. But I let it rip in “My Brother Reads Incest Porn. zOMG! He Writes It!” In the story, I let the sister instruct her brother on the fact that it would never work that way with her and explain why. Gradually, she comes to realize that he really has a crush on her and eventually it is reciprocated. It was the first short story I’d written or even seen that scored above an 8.0.

Then I found out about the Valentine Story Contest. SOL has a strong bias toward long stories. It’s the way the site works. It is not a flaw. It’s what readers want to read. So, I decided that I would write a long short story for the contest. “100 Days” won the contest, albeit that it never quite broke an 8.0. That put a tank of gas in the truck.

While I was struggling with the plot and storyline of Living Next Door to Heaven, I was still managing to get other stories up. And I really had more ideas that I was plotting out than I could possibly write in the next five years.

Cassie and Andy wanted to go to the Grand Canyon. In January. I’d been there in October a year ago, and it was damned cold. I’d told them I’d meet them in Sedona where I was reasonably sure I wouldn’t be frozen out. They wanted to go to Winslow, so I crawled out of the canyon to Flagstaff along icy switchbacks. They wanted all of five minutes in Winslow to take a picture on the corner and go. I pressed them to join me in Canyon de Chelly for a couple days. From there it was a long haul to Albuquerque, New Mexico. They decided to ski in Taos. I remembered being caught in the snow there with Angie last year and chose to go south. We agreed to meet in El Paso in a week. They decided to go north to visit friends in Indiana before they headed back south, instead. I went across Texas.

I guess you can tell that even ‘traveling together’ we weren’t really in synch and I was alone most of the time. Texas is a big fucking state to cross. To give some idea of how big, if you were driving from San Diego, California to Jacksonville, Florida in three equal legs, both of your overnights would be in Texas. I headed Toward San Antonio, then Houston, and across Louisiana to Baton Rouge. The last time I’d been through this territory, I’d left Angie at the New Orleans airport and traveled along the Gulf Coast all the way to Fort Myers Beach. This time I cut north through Louisiana to get to a site I’d read about. Poverty Point National Historic Monument had recently been added to the UN register of World Heritage Sites. And, it was fascinating. It was hard to believe the scope of an entire civilization that predated most of what we would term Native Americans on this continent. You almost feel the old energy of this site. Someday I’ll write a story set in that time and place.

I headed east on Route 80 across Mississippi and into Alabama. Cassie and Andy had looped north into Indiana to see old friends and were supposed to meet me in Montgomery. They hadn’t left Indiana yet, but the way they drive, it’s only a day trip to Alabama down I-65. And so, five weeks after parting from Alice, I found myself standing on a bridge in Selma, Alabama.

A Long Time Ago: Marching to Montgomery

I wasn’t too young to remember. My teacher stood in front of the class with tears in her eyes and told us the president had been killed. We were being sent home and school would be closed for a few days.

What I remembered was that on Saturday morning, the one day of the week I was allowed to watch television, there were no cartoons. Every station on the television showed stuff about the murdered president. And my mother stood at the ironing board crying as she watched. Sunday night, Dad jumped up from the dinner table and shut off the TV that had just shown Jack Ruby killing Lee Harvey Oswald live.

Less than two years later, after riots and burnings, a march from Selma to Montgomery to demand voting rights for African Americans began. On Bloody Sunday, March 7, 1965, the marchers were beaten back by county sheriff’s ‘deputies’ who showed up en masse at the county line. On March 9, Dr. King led the marchers back into Selma, obeying a federal injunction. Finally, on March 21, protected by 3000 troops and Alabama National Guard, the marchers continued toward Montgomery. 8,000 people began the march. Through Lowndes County, where Highway 80 narrowed to two lanes, only 300 people were permitted to march. Lowndes County was 81% black, but there were no black registered voters. 2,240 whites were registered, which was 118% of the adult white population of the county.

When they left Lowndes County three days after entering it, the population of marchers swelled until, on March 25, 25,000 people gathered on the steps of the State Capitol building to listen to Dr. King.

How long? Not long, because ‘no lie can live forever.’

How long? Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.

In school, I had never seen a black person. There had once been a Kenyan missionary student at summer camp. He was the only black person I had ever met. There was one student of color when I was a freshman in a school of 1,800 students. She was a Thai exchange student. When I moved from St. Joe Valley High School to the even more rural Tippecanoe Valley High School, the only person of color I met was a Haitian exchange student my senior year. We didn’t have black people in Indiana, so we never had any problems. Except in the big cities. Gary had black people. They came from Chicago and played basketball. Indianapolis had black people. I didn’t know where they came from. But they played basketball.

I didn’t understand what the big deal was with civil rights. All men are created equal. It says so right in the Declaration of Independence.

Red and yellow, black and white,
They are precious in his sight.
Jesus loves the little children of the world.

I just did not get it.

I still don’t.

Back to Selma

I didn’t walk the whole route. I walked out a mile from the bridge and saw the souvenir shops that were set up to market to the memorial march that was slated for just two weeks later. I didn’t stay for it. I drove from Selma to Montgomery and stopped at each of the campgrounds and at the memorial park half way between the two cities. I camped in Montgomery and spent two days just walking the route through town and looking at the shops and visiting the museums. I still didn’t understand why there was so much racial tension in our country.

Cassie and Andy bubbled into town two days later and stayed a night. Then we were off to Columbus, Georgia and Ezell’s.

A Long Time Ago: Sin City

There is nothing important about Columbus, Georgia that I know of, except that I did some training presentations on color production and the desktop. It was a good session and there were good people working at the print shop. It was a subsidiary of a big publisher in middle America that I had trained at for several months. They were highly skilled craftsmen and artists who photographed artwork and made color separations for printing on greeting cards.

After five grueling days, during which I was taught as much about color proofing and printing as my students were about desktop technology and manipulation, my six exhausted students and I went to Ezell’s for catfish. It was a time of cutting loose and celebrating the completion of the training. It was a time for teaching this Yankee about real Southern food: catfish and hush puppies. The table was covered with brown butcher’s paper and deep fried catfish, hush puppies, and fries were unceremoniously dumped on it. A huge bowl of cole slaw was served in the middle and we were each given plates. We ate until we couldn’t eat any more.

And that was where I met Marcie.

I mean in Columbus, not just at dinner. She was one of my students. And she was the blackest person I had ever met. I had taken pictures of all my students, hoping to remember some of them. Marcie had laughed at me.

“If I close my eyes and my mouth, it will look like you took a picture of a deep dark hole,” she said. She was right. I did not have an adequate camera to capture what I considered extraordinarily beautiful features. I was fascinated by her and all through the week I’d taken any opportunity to be in her presence. She was just the kind of woman I liked to be close to—witty, conversation, and beautiful.

We finished our dinner and paid the tab. No, I wasn’t springing for dinner for everyone. I was being paid to be here and their company was covering my expenses. Dinner for the company’s employees was not included.

“Hey, I need a ride to my hotel. Anyone headed my direction?”

“I’ll take care of you,” Marcie said. “Over here.” She led me to a newer model Chrysler New Yorker. What a monster of a car! Burgundy with black trim, including that leather-look wrap on the back quarter of the square-back roof. I whistled.

Inside, the car was clean and smelled almost new.

“You smoke? Not in the car,” she commanded. I occasionally smoked a pipe, but seldom had one with me when I went to work. “Are you done for the evening or would you like to go for a drink?” she asked.

“I could stand a drink,” I said. Ezell’s doesn’t serve liquor and I was willing to do about anything to stay around Marcie for a while.

“Jazz, rock, or cowboy?” she said. It took a second to figure out she was talking about a kind of bar.

“Jazz or rock. Either is fine. I have to be in exactly the right mood for a cowboy bar,” I said.

“Smart. I don’t think you want to be face-to-face with a six-foot-six black dude in a Stetson,” she laughed. “We’ll stop by my place and I’ll change.”

We zipped across the bridge and in ten minutes we were in front of a brownstone apartment building in Phenix City, Alabama. “My momma got a divorce from my daddy when I was ten. We just up and moved out of the shithole where he lived and left. I asked her where we were going and she answered, ‘We’re goin’ ta hell, baby.’ She meant Phenix City.” She looked at me critically as I started to open the door. “You’re staying here,” she said, laying a hand on my arm. I closed the door. “Slouch down in the seat and pull your hat down over your face. Do not look around or get out of the car. I don’t want to have to replace a window because some nigga wanted to cut yo’ ass.”

Oh, shit! I figured my best bet right now was to do as directed. I’d close my eyes and shut my mouth and just be a big black hole in the car. I was thankful for my hat. I’d started wearing fedoras back in college and seldom ever went anywhere without a hat. I dozed off while I was waiting.

I heard the driver’s door open and Marcie slid into the seat. She started the car and put it in gear.

“You can look now,” she said. I straightened up as we pulled out of the neighborhood onto a main street. I glanced over at her and did a double take. I’d been with this woman in training sessions for a week and never thought twice about her figure. She wore standard business attire, including slacks, conservative blouses, and usually a boxy jacket that covered her butt. The woman next to me was hot!

“I ... uh ... Wow, Marcie! You changed,” I gasped.

“Can’t go to a club dressed for the office.” She looked over at me in my suit. “Keep the hat on. You’ll be fine,” she said. I couldn’t help but glance down at the miniskirt. Not actually at the miniskirt, but at the mile of very shapely leg it exposed. The top she’d chosen didn’t quite meet the skirt and exposed a very tiny waist.

“You look like a million bucks,” I said. “I feel way underdressed.”

“A million bucks is what I tell them I charge,” she said. “Look, I’m taking you to my kind of place tonight. I can take you because people know they can’t fuck with me—as long as you don’t make an ass of yourself. They look at my car and know they don’t have a car they can entice me for a ride in. They look at my body and know they can’t afford me. Can you dance?”

“Yeah. I’m not bad,” I said. I thought back to my wild dance with Cynthia a few years ago. Of course, I was a little out of practice.

“Right. White men can’t dance. Just try not to trip over me.” For a couple of minutes we drove in silence. I was thrown by her attitude. Then I realized she was putting on her club persona. She’d just explained it to me. I breathed deeply as she pulled up into a parking lot.

“So are you supposed to be my sweetheart or my bitch,” I growled. She snapped her face toward me and smiled.

“They’d challenge you right away if they thought I was your bitch. Better be your sweetheart. It will give us a couple of hours,” she nodded. I smiled back at her.

“Darling, wait right there while I come to open your door,” I said. “And try not to step on my toes.”

It was all kinds of fun. I wasn’t the only white face in the club. I’d had visions of the lesbian bar I’d visited years ago and didn’t think being an honorary black man would fly. It didn’t have to. Marcie took my offered hand and never let go. We had a drink and danced to some great music. They had a DJ who kept a variety of music going, ranging from hard jazz to soft rock with a little swing tossed in for good measure. About midnight, we called it quits and got a few waves as we left the club.

Marcie drove me back to my hotel—a good quality business hotel, but not one that would rate four stars. While she drove, she reached over and took my hand again. She didn’t pull up to the door of the hotel, but into the parking lot. She turned to me and pushed the center armrests up out of our way as she unbuckled.

“Tell me, Ari. Have you ever gone black?” she asked as she scooted toward me slightly.

“I’m afraid I’ve always been as pale as you see me here,” I sighed.

“The white girls say that once you’ve gone black you never go back,” she whispered as she leaned in for a kiss. As our lips touched, I realized what she meant. Oh! “Want to risk it?”

“I think I’m up for that risk,” I said as I pressed the kiss back to her. “You might be risking being stuck on white guys, though.”

“You’re hung bigger than a brother?” she laughed.

“No. But I’ve heard brothers don’t go down.”

Marcie pulled away from me and looked me in the eye.

“No shit,” she sighed. She opened her door and grabbed an overnight bag out of the backseat. “Well? Are you coming?”

We rushed to my room, ignoring the desk clerk’s stare and as soon as we were inside we started in on the kiss again. I had gone to some really popular movie a couple years ago where the two leads were just all over each other and trying to rip their clothes off to fuck on the kitchen counter. That scene was okay, but the movie was so disgusting I walked out. I’d never been in a situation where clothes actually got torn in the hurry to get naked. That changed in my hotel room. Buttons from my shirt flew all over the room.

Marcie was ‘properly’ dressed, meaning she had underwear on. The blouse was a pullover, but I managed to get it and her bra off without tearing anything. I found the zipper on her skirt and shucked it off her round ass with the thong. I glanced down to see she was still in her strappy high heels and decided that I liked the porn look on this woman. She was stroking my cock with my pants around my knees, but I wasn’t going to move straight to fucking. I’d promised this woman eating and I planned to make good on the promise.

I lifted her and literally tossed her on the bed so I could finish stripping out of my pants. She looked at me hungrily, but she wasn’t focused on my cock. She was looking to see if I was serious. I was. I pushed her legs back and apart and went straight to the center.

I’d never seen anything quite like this. Oh, I’d seen shaved pussies by this stage of my life, but I’d never seen a bright pink gash surrounded by nearly coal black labia. I don’t know what I expected to find. I just was mesmerized by the contrast and wanted to look and enjoy for a minute before I dove in.

“Aren’t you going to?” she asked plaintively.

“Oh, yes. I’m going to really enjoy this,” I said. I swiped up through her pussy and she gasped. That gasp was accompanied by a flood of fragrant juices and I set to work trying to make this experience one we’d both remember for a long time to come.

She was a little bristly. I don’t think that when she went to work in the morning she planned on having an up-close and personal genital exam in the evening. Or maybe her hair just grew that fast. It didn’t detract from my enjoyment of her hot pussy, and from the squeals that started about five minutes later, I don’t think it affected her enjoyment either. I didn’t let up, but continued to press her after her first orgasm when she thought I’d quit. I think I would have seen how many I could give her in a row, but my cock was beginning to ache.

I stood between her legs and pushed into her.

“Oh fuck! Yeah!” she screamed.

Once I was in, I slowed down. Marcie was panting and welcomed a moment’s respite while I looked at the woman below me. Her breasts weren’t too big, but since she was small, they seemed to stand up on her chest. The areolae and nipples were scarcely a shade darker than the surrounding flesh and I leaned forward to kiss each. I loved the way her ass cushioned my thrust. But what was truly remarkable was the tiny waist. I could almost put my hands around it and have the fingers meet.

Marcie’s eyes opened and looked at me. My smile was met by hers.

“I’ve never seen such a tiny waist,” I said. “I’m afraid I’ll break you.”

“I know. I eat, but I’ve never gotten big there. I don’t break, though. Grab hold and show me what you’ve got!”

I slipped my arms under her legs and reached forward to take hold of her waist. It did provide a good grip. This position also brought her high-heeled feet up to where I could turn my head and nibble on those ankles. Having taken a little time once I was in to catch our breath, I bounced against her round ass for a while without reaching the point of no return. The position also gave less direct stimulation to her clit, so Marcie settled in for the ride as well.

“Do me from behind, Ari,” she said. We didn’t even try to stay connected as we moved to a new position. I got fully up on the bed as she knelt on all fours. This position is a nice change, but isn’t one that I usually prefer because I can’t see my lover. But with Marcie, sinking into her from behind was a real treat. Not only was she hot and tight, but I could slide my hands forward to cup her breasts and then back to circle her little waist. And once she was sure I had a good grip there, she took over slamming back into me over and over, bouncing her phat ass against my stomach. I slid a hand around her stomach and found her clit just in time to send her over the edge as I started pumping. Fuck!

I didn’t get much sleep that night. Marcie was surprised when I ate her again, even after I’d come in her. She went ballistic over it and then returned the favor with a long, sensuous blowjob.

I managed to check out before noon on Saturday and Marcie took me to the airport.

“I might consider dating a white guy again,” she sighed as she kissed me at the curb. “Do y’all have tongues like that?”

I kissed her again and we tried to see exactly how long that tongue was.

Back to Ezell’s

Cassie and Andy liked the catfish and hushpuppies. What’s not to like? Deep fried grease and breadcrumbs pretending to be fish. And the jalapenos in the hushpuppies liven them up.

The RV park we’d located was decent and we sat outside with a drink while I smoked a cigar after dinner.

“What are you working on?” Cassie asked as I tapped at my laptop.

“Wrapping up the contest entry for my new Erotic Paranormal Western Romance Adventure,” I said. After Jay sent me back the Blackfeather manuscript, I completely tore the story apart and rewrote it. Completely. I’d even gone so far as to outline the entire story using the twelve stages of ‘the hero’s journey’. Now I was about to hit send and enter it in a contest as a ‘romance.’ Cassie leaned over my shoulder to read the synopsis.

“Incest doesn’t seem like a big thing?” she exclaimed when she read the last line. “Are you crazy? If I read that in the synopsis, I wouldn’t read any further. I don’t care if they did go back in time and become their own ancestors.”

“But Redtail did better in the Clitorides as an incest story than as a western!” I defended myself.

“Is this a Clitorides entry form?”

“No. It’s for a literary competition.”

“You need to find out who your audience is. If you and Andy are the judges, I’m sure you’d win. If Sarah and I were judging, you’d never be considered,” she declared.

I should have listened to her.

We were on the road again and I tried to follow Cassie and Andy in their big rig. Hopeless. The closer we got to Florida, the less the speed limit seemed to matter to anyone. They hit Interstate 75 at Tifton and were like two old horses headed for the barn. They planned to be home in Orlando by the end of the day. I told them I’d catch up again before I left the state in April and headed down U.S. 41. It would take me the rest of the week to get to my reserved spot in Fort Myers Beach. I’d already printed my ticket for the first game of the Twins vs. University of Minnesota. I’d probably spend the 28th of February parked at Walmart overnight so I could pull into the RV park early enough in the day on the first that I could be set up and out to the stadium in time for the first pitch of spring training.

I’ve never been that much of a sports lover. In high school, I tried playing football, but got into non-violence and turned my back on the game. I was never coordinated enough to play anything more than intramural basketball. When I travel and people see my Washington license plates, I’m often asked if I’m a big Seahawks fan. My standard response is, “I don’t really follow hockey.” Usually ends any sports discussions.

But baseball—especially the Twins—has a special place in my heart.

A Long Time Ago: First Kiss

Treasure and I had been dating for a few weeks. It had taken our tealeaf reading to get us to admit we were dating. I might not have mentioned that Belle bankrupted me before she left. I had my house on the market and was two months behind in my mortgage payments. The bank was working with me because they really didn’t want a foreclosure. I was earning enough money in my new job to make the current payments.

That job was something else. Toby Moore, the owner of the company had come to my rescue. All I needed to do was bring him my clients and he would take them over and hire me to service them. Talk about being a paid whore. He made it sound like I’d be spending time in a breeding stall with my editing and publishing clients. I’d convinced Dan to take the job of GM for the company so I wouldn’t have to deal with Toby. I got a little tipsy one night when a bunch of us were out after work and someone decided it would be fun to play “Three Words on Your Tombstone.” What would they be?

The game ended when I said, “Fuck you, too.”

But it was October now and Treasure and I had agreed that we were dating. Things were looking up. And the Twins were in the World Series. My Uptown house was a good five miles from the Humphrey Dome, but the cheers of the crowd there could be heard from my front steps. Treasure had agreed to watch the game with me.

I had a small TV that I’d picked up at the Salvation Army. The sofa had been one of the pieces of furniture too heavy for Belle to remove from the house. But Treasure and I chose to sit on the floor and lean against it so we were closer to the little TV. When we saw something exciting in the game and cheered, about two seconds later we could hear the cheer from the stadium.

Then it was time for the seventh inning stretch. We both stretched and turned toward each other. It was a good evening. Our team was ahead. Our lips were sort of right there next to each other and kind of touched. And then stayed touched.

Through most of the bottom half of the inning.

The Twins scored again before the inning ended.

I did, too.

Oh, that doesn’t mean we were fucking on the floor. Just that during that first kiss, I’d decided this woman was going to be with me for the rest of my life. Just under a year later, we were married.

Back to Florida

All I can say about the first game of spring training was that Minnesota won. I’m not sure if it was the Twins or the Gophers. I didn’t score.

In fact, as much as I’d enjoyed my time last year, I wasn’t sure I’d spend much time on the beach while the college kids were there. At least, not until my daughter joined me the last week of the month. Becky the Reckless had been a little overwhelming last year.

Still, the lure of the beach ‘bums’ drew me and Tuesday afternoon I found myself planted in my chair, just under the shade as I looked out at the college beauties and their hunky, if slightly tipsy boyfriends. I’d decided that since I was following the hero’s journey in my writing, I should reread Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth. It was one of the books I read back when I was first collecting reference work on mythology for Behind the Ivory Veil.

I was lost in the interview between Campbell and Bill Moyers (the book is an edited transcript of 24 hours of interviews) and was even a little drowsy when a shadow passed over me and a young woman spread a large towel on the sand next to my chair in the shade.

“Where’s your bitches?” she asked. I glanced down automatically. At first I’d thought she said my ‘britches’ and I had a momentary panic that I’d forgotten them. I had my swimming trunks on. I turned to look at the very shapely form of a young brunette in a very small bikini.

“I beg your pardon?” I said.

“The girls who were fawning all over you last year. Haven’t got a new one yet?”

“Do I know you?” I asked.

“Would it help if I fell on top of you and shoved my tit into your hand?”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. I’m Ari.” I held out a hand and she looked at it as if to decide if she was going to shake it or shove her tit into it. She took it in her hand.

“Ella. So where is the hardbody who was with you last year?” she asked.

“I haven’t talked to her for a couple months. She graduated last spring and got a job. We aren’t really a couple,” I said.

“Just a convenient piece of ass,” she said disgustedly. I did not need to put up with the snipes of a little bitch I didn’t know. Just as I was about to tell her to get lost, she continued. “Sorry. I’m not having any fun this year. Didn’t mean to take it out on you. I never should have come down here.”

Women can twist me around a little finger faster than putting a tie in their hair. In a few words, she changed from a target for disdain to a damsel in distress. Story of my life. Let me lie down so you can walk all over me.

“What’s the problem? Why aren’t you out there playing in the sun and having a drink?” I asked. “If I recall correctly, you were used to three margaritas for lunch.”

“Bloody Marys. That was the problem.”

“What?”

“Last year I came to the beach for spring break and fun. I got drunk, sunburned, and pregnant. I’m staying sober and in the shade this year. With my knees clamped together.” Fuck!

“I’m sorry,” I said. I don’t know what I was apologizing for. “With that kind of past, I don’t think I’d have returned.”

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Civil War Reenactment When a friend at work tried to recruit me into his Civil War Reenactment Troop, I was intrigued but I wanted to check it out first. He told me to visit him that weekend at a reenactment that his group was putting on. My wife was not interested but her sister Doreen was, however her husband was not. So Doreen and I decided to go visit my friend together. That Friday Doreen was more excited than I was. As we drove to the town where the reenactment was taking...

2 years ago
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Civil War in MiseraChapter 2 Dining In a Rebel Camp

May 27, 1993 Dr. Wilfred Tanguma did not look like a professor of history bundled up in heavy winter clothes. He was sitting on a folding chair that was half buried in the snow facing a half barrel in which a small fire burned. He was leaning forward with his hands over the flame trying to keep warm. It was bitterly cold. His childhood friend, Bertulfo ‘Bert’ Venzor, was seated next to him in much the same position. He had just delivered some very bad news. Bert said, “I don’t like it....

2 years ago
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The Adventures of Americanman Dreamworld

The Adventures of American-man: Dreamworld By Paul G Jutras Chapter One: Doorway of Doom October 31, 3086, a historical team uncovered a weird chest with pictures carved all over the outside. Each was dressed in hiking boots, knee-high socks, too tight shorts, sleeveless shirts and pit helmets. As one of them broke open the chest a mist rose out and formed into a skull headed demon. Rays shot from it's eye socks, transforming the girls' skin to plastic. As they fell over, the...

3 years ago
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South American Cock Torment

South American Cock TormentAndy Douglas was eighteen even though he only looked much younger. Five seven, he had a nice balance of slim waist, good shoulders and a neat, tight butt. Plenty of sport and exercise in the open air had given him a great tan and a body with good muscular definition including a modest six-pack. The sun had also bleached his shock of naturally blonde hair. Coupled with pale blue eyes and a ready smile he looked good and attractive?and he knew it.He liked girls, but...

2 years ago
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Civil Serivces Exam With Bhabhi Neha Part 8211 1

Thanks for the lot of response from my previous story. Frankly, I opened my emails after whole one year. So I am sorry from the bottom of my heart. Saw and read all those thousands of emails which came to me till now. I was overwhelmed. I know that you had requested me to write more a long time ago. After seeing all those mails of appreciation I would be mad not to write more of my personal incidents. Please keep writing to me on my email id Your emails keep me going on for more...

2 years ago
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The Preacher ManChapter 53 Civil War

One month later... Time: August 11, 8244 1:27 AM I walked back to my private quarters at the palace feeling very tired. One of the awful things about war, I thought, is that there's never an intermission. Still, it was a battle worth fighting, and over the past thirty days my cause has enjoyed an unbroken series of successes. Except for my tired mind, I had no reason to complain. The war began in the Caribbean shortly after dawn on July 15th, two days after a new holographic...

3 years ago
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Breed Beach 5 All American1 3 videos

America hosts dozens of agents, who work secretly exclusively for me. Although all-American applicants think they are for porn.America's agencies are in all major cities, which house hot tasty teen or twen beautiful brides to be. We will mention all towns.Professor Poet-PETER erotic experiments interestingly include his agencies world wide. Together a dozen of dozens capitals.Professor Poet-PETER prayed his dear great granddaughter Princess Petra to go the other side of the 'big drink', to...

4 years ago
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Breed Beach 5 All American1 3 videos

America hosts dozens of agents, who work secretly exclusively for me. Although all-American applicants think they are for porn.America's agencies are in all major cities, which house hot tasty teen or twen beautiful brides to be. We will mention all towns.Professor Poet-PETER erotic experiments interestingly include his agencies world wide. Together a dozen of dozens capitals.Professor Poet-PETER prayed his dear great granddaughter Princess Petra to go the other side of the 'big drink', to...

3 years ago
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AmericanMan At War

American-Man At War By Paul G. Jutras "1,2, 3, 4...." Christine said as she stood in gold three inch pumps and a backless evening gown with spaghetti straps. With the clicking of drumsticks the band prepared to join in. Soto began to played the guitar in his usual leather jacket, pants and boots and red tee shirt. Mark played the drums, Luke the keyboard in their yellow and red striped coveralls, and Starshine the tambourine in her purple blouse, leopard print mini skirt...

2 years ago
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Miss American Pornstar

Ida Hoe was waiting nervously back stage as her arch rival, Holly Keyhole, performed on stage riding Hoss Bigg cowgirl style on a trampoline. She could hear the audience shouting in delight. The raucous cheers were almost deafening.Ida was horrified that Holly might give an unsurmountable performance. Ida barely trailed her for first place in this grand finale episode of Miss American Pornstar. Winning the title of the first Miss American Pornstar would not only make her the newest rage in the...

Group Sex
2 years ago
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New Job for AmericanMan

New Job for American-Man By Paul G Jutras Since American-Man's appearance the crime rate in Federation city had dropped way down. Too bad the number band of gigs his rock band had were also way down. Needing the extra pay, it was in his American-Man form that he became a bag man at a Federation City super market. The job was easy and American-man changed his costume with the bluish green shirt, black slacks and sneakers of the market. When he eyed a shoplifter trying to head out...

3 years ago
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Why I Love Black American Women

Okay, here goes nothing. African-American guys like myself have a certain image in the eyes of the world. We’re thought of as tougher, meaner and more athletic than the average guy. Also, people seem to think we gravitate toward either athletic pursuits or criminal endeavors, and nothing in between. Neither is exactly true for most Black men living in the United States of America. Just to prove to you how untrue these stereotypes are, take me for example. My name is Arnold Thompson. And I’m a...

4 years ago
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Dont Sleep on the Subway Book ThreeChapter 31 Aug 1942 First Massive American Air Attack on Germany

“We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried. Most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita; Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty, and to impress him, takes on his multi-armed form and says, ‘Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.’ I suppose we all thought that, one way or another.” ― J. Robert Oppenheimer It seems sort of strange looking back on the unfolding events of...

3 years ago
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Wonders of American BackroadsChapter 9 Launching Pad

I had to laugh at myself. I was standing in the Hilo Airport staring at the Zen garden that was supposed to bring peace and tranquility. Instead, I was dancing from foot to foot in impatience. I should have stayed in the restaurant another hour, but my computer had run out of juice. I’d been sitting there since three in the afternoon and it was eight now. I went into the bar—the only ‘service’ available at the Hilo airport—and ordered a soda. Once she got here, I still had to drive us safely...

3 years ago
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My American Bra

To begin, may I must make something perfectly clear. I’m virgin by my haughty cousin’s definition -- he says we may do it now because it is very assuered our families will marry us together -- but that doesn’t mean I have never made love. My story begins at St. Mary’s, an elite English-medium secondary school for girls. St. Mary’s has a Christian headmistress and several Christian faculty, but few of the students are of that faith. Christians know academics better than do mullahs and holy men....

3 years ago
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The unlucky American

The unlucky American. ? A reader of some of my other stories challenged me to write one about a terrified boy enslaved by a girl. This is the outcome of my efforts. ? Note: Tim’s private thoughts are marked by single inverted commas: ‘Shit’; direct speech by double: "Yes, Mistress". ? Part one. ? "I'm an American citizen, for chrissake. It's your fucking duty to defend me!" I shouted angrily at the embassy's legal secretary. ? "You are and I have". She looked calmly back. ? "But I was...

3 years ago
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Wonders of American BackroadsChapter 5 Grand Ole Opry

I stayed in Florida a month too long. It was great fun to sit on the beach and watch the butts of cute college girls all through March and it was great when Maddie came down to join me for beach time. Of course, the second week of spring break was nothing like the first. The entire population changed over. No one knew me and they weren’t interested in the old guy who sat in the shade. The real problem was writing. By the end of the first week of April, I’d simply trashed the entire first...

4 years ago
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Wonders of American BackroadsChapter 7 Strange Bedfellows

I lay on my bed spooned against a pillow wondering if it was possible for me to be any more of an asshole. It wasn’t just Ella. It was Alice. And Angie. And all the other women I’d met on this ‘big adventure’ of mine. Did I even have room in my life for a ‘real’ relationship? The pillow wasn’t answering. I couldn’t have heard it through my sobs even if it had. I’d been two years on the road. I was thinking I needed to take it easy for a while. Maybe even hide. I got myself online and...

1 year ago
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American Girl In Bangkok

American Girl in Bangkok By Tiffany Parker The following story is a work of fiction and is copyright property of the author. Please don't repost it without permission. But most importantly, I hope you enjoy reading it. Chapter 1 Kaylee impatiently bided time while sitting in the middle seat in coach on the long trans-pacific flight. She was excited about her trip to Bangkok that would complete her journey and provide her the gender affirmation surgery she desperately...

2 years ago
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Wonders of American BackroadsChapter 6 A Rogue and Peasant Slave

We slept soundly our first night and woke up spooned together. I had my hand on her tummy rather than her breast. I don’t know why that made a difference except that we were both completely naked and my morning hard cock was definitely being squeezed between two very nice buns. Ella’s tummy muscles were clenching rhythmically. She was awake before me. I’m not sure if she was intentionally trying to milk my cock with her ass or if that was just a side-effect of her manipulating her clit with...

4 years ago
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Wonders of American BackroadsChapter 8 Hot Lava

The day had come and I could no longer avoid it. I’d spent most of September around Seattle getting my necessary checkups, spending time with Maddie and even with Treasure, meeting with friends. And writing. I kept looking at my outline for Becoming the Storm, which I had originally titled Sins of the Father. I knew what was going to happen and I hated it. I kept putting it off. It wouldn’t be this chapter. But then I saw the writing on the wall, as it were. It was about to happen. I left...

2 years ago
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Singles American Girl

Author's Note; This story is a dedication to Tom Petty. Song meaning to me are very subjective. I can take someone different out of song than someone else. I can even take something different out of a song depending on my mood. So with saying that this story is how I filled in the blanks of this great song. Debra Webster was an American girl who was raised on her mom and dad's promises.These promises were being able to be whatever she wanted to be in life, and their daughter would...

1 year ago
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Hijab Girl Meets American Soldier

Alright, I can finally admit it to myself. I am a Muslim. I used to be one of those people who felt a strong dislike of Muslims, until I fell in love with one. It’s funny how these things happen, huh? My name is Solomon Kingsley Henderson, although many of my friends have taken to calling me ‘King Suleiman’ in recent times. It’s my Muslim name, though it’s not on my passport or anything. My wife Khadija Abdullah certainly likes it. She’s a lovely lady of Somali descent who saved my life back in...

3 years ago
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American Husband Takes the Veil in Saudi

Opportunities for foreign assignments with large, American owned companies can be very lucrative. In some cases, expatriates can earn up to three times their normal salary, while at the same time having housing and food provided for free. My wife and I recently got such an opportunity to go to Saudi Arabia for two years, and it came at a perfect time in our lives.My name is Alan, and my wife, Karen, and I were forty-two years old at the time. Our two kids were in college and living away from...

Interracial
1 year ago
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Wonders of American BackroadsChapter 3 Magic Circle

If you think that all the sex adventures would start as soon as we camped in a nudist area, you really don’t understand naturism. The one thing above all about nudist resorts and naturists is that it isn’t about sex. That’s especially true about an encampment like Quartzite’s Magic Circle. When you think about who can take off for the winter, or even a couple of weeks, to camp out and enjoy the mild weather of western Arizona, you have to come to the immediate conclusion of retirees....

2 years ago
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Ms Americana The Palace

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OROTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS.   Ms Americana/Brenda Wade andLydia Wills/Flag Girl are the creations of Mr. X.  I came up with the othervillains.   Please direct all comments andfeedback to [email protected].  Put Ms Americana or Story feedback insubject line, otherwise I might think it is spam and delete.                 MS AMERICANA: THE PALACE By Thom Gall              Sugar...

3 years ago
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American Ladyboy

American Ladyboy By Cassandra Morgan No matter where in the world you are, no matter languages are being spoken around you, calculus is boring, it seems they teach the subject so people will know how to torture spies. And so, half a globe away, Benjy Hawkins sat in his math class with his head resting on his arms, which were folded over his desk. The teacher droned on, his lilting accent punctuating his speech. The subject, and the speech, was more than Benjy could bear on a...

4 years ago
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Daris Hilton Hates Ms Americana

Hi guys, first I have to say the main character is not anyway related to a certain hotel heiress that is sitting in a cell rat Hi guys, first I have to say the main character is not anyway related to a certain hotel heiress that is sitting in a cell rather than by pool. That would be wrong?Daris is a creation of my own. Ms Americana belongs to Mr. X. I hope you like this ENTIRELY FICTIONAL STORY. [email protected] If you are a minor, you shouldn?t be reading this story since...

4 years ago
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Mexican Boy Meets American Boy

My name is Enrique and I am from Chihuahua Mexico. Since a c***d I never really liked girls, but I didn’t seem to like boys either. That was true until I first went to visit the USA. I fell in love when I met a white American boy. His beautiful blue eyes, his pretty smile, his perfect body, and his tall frame attracted me to him. I never met a man like that in my life. I was 18 and he was about 23 years old. I didn’t know much English so it was hard to talk to him. But he knew I wanted him. He...

3 years ago
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AmericanMan Returns

American-Man Returns by Paul G Jutras The high desert winds kicked up as the hovering cruise ship sailed over the endless sands. Inside the ball room, Christine Jackmarr and her band rocked on with music from before World War Three. Once Christine was merely Chris Jackmarr. A normal teenage boy with dreams of being a rock star. Then one Halloween, a cosmic time loop resulted in the death of his old body and the reincarnation of his soul in his own relative of the year...

2 years ago
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All American BoyChapter 72

We were standing in line to order when one of the waitresses walked by. She turned completely around to look back at me. “There’s an empty table back there in the corner. I just cleaned it off, if you’d like to go back there before everyone recognizes you. I’ll be right back to take your orders,” she said and hurried away. “How did she know you?” Bonnie asked as we walked toward the table. “She probably thought I was someone else. I’ll find out when she comes to take our order,” I told her...

3 years ago
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After the Energists Championships Concerts CompletionChapter 38 American Woman

Shannon’s House, Arva, Ontario 4:26pm, Monday, December 24, 1979 “How was practice, guys?” Eda asked as Andrew, Wayne, Jon, Andy and I walked in the foyer of Shannon’s large farm house. “Oh! My! God! You wouldn’t believe the dunks these two guys were throwing down before we actually practiced,” Andy bellowed as he did a three-sixty spin jump with a two-handed pretend throw-down. “Yeah, Andrew did a nifty, between his legs to a reverse, two-handed jam, which was beyond incredible!” Wayne...

3 years ago
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Tales of an American Geisha Slave Boi

Introduction: Collin, a Business School Graduate, goes to Japan, hoping to find his dream job. What he finds instead, is a whole different life, based upon his dreams and nightmares, in a situation that he thought no longer existed in Japan. Tales of an American Geisha-Slave-Boi Disclaimer Copyright, 2012, Patricia Steel ([email protected]) Do whatever you want with this story, only keep my name attached, please. Please report any and all orgasms arrived at through reading and masturbating...

2 years ago
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Civil War Soldier And Lonely Farm Wife

Back in the 1800s a lot of young men married women of ill-repute, not only were they comfortable around men, they were uninhibited about sex unlike most women of the day. They enjoyed fucking in different positions and were more than willing to suck your cock. They enjoyed fucking and knew how to please a man. So this is the story of how I met Alma, a former St. Louis whore who turned out to be my wife of twenty years. I had always loved to ride horses; since age eight I rode them across the...

4 years ago
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Gone with the Skirts A Civil War Epic

(With apologies to Margaret Mitchell) Gone with the Skirts - A Civil War Epic A tricky dabble by RH Music Chapter 1: A Wedding --------------------- Earl kissed his new wife, Charlotte. "I do." Chapter 2: Clouds of war are gathering --------------------------------------- "I've been drafted!" "Become my sister... for the estate!" Chapter 3: Earl becomes Annabelle ---------------------------------- "Hoopskirts and Corsets??" Chapter 4: War breaks...

3 years ago
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Naked Civil Servants

It had been a few days now but I always got that warm feeling when I spoke to Michelle on the phone. We both work for the civil service and after me gaining promotion Michelle was my new contact in Whitehall.We soon got the work business out of the way and started to chat about our private lives.Michelle had just come out of a long term relationship and had told me about an encounter with a male friend Michael and his now ex girlfirend, during a visit to him in France.After a few glasses of...

4 years ago
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The defeat of Feminism in the Gender Civil War

Tales From the Gender Civil WarCaptured CIA AgentThe CIA Agent had become separated from her squad during the raid on the Columbia drug compound. The goons had grabbed her and dragged her deep into the jungle. Now she lived in the confines of the compound of the notoriously brutal Drug Lord Sancho Martinez . Sancho could not believe his luck, that he now possessed a beautiful, educated, blonde, American CIA agent as his personal sex slave. The woman who had lead the fighting to destroy him and...

2 years ago
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Civil Unrest

Jacob Jones seemingly knew everythong about everybody, he knew everyone and it would never surprise anyone if a complete stranger, someone no one had seen before, walked in and Jacob knew them. Except for you, you opened the door to his pub and limped in. You had been travelling for days, from the ruins of towns and cities to this small village in the middle of a large forest. The trees stretched for miles, one could easilt get lost in them and the village lacked a large presence of the...

3 years ago
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Star Wars The Tie FighterChapter 4 The Sepan Civil War

GUSTAV jumped to hyperspace, leaving the Death Star, Tarkin, Vader, and J'Una behind. We had embarked Admiral Haarkov and several members of his staff and were enroute to the Sepan system. The most difficult, and potentially frustrating, mission that any military organization can be assigned is one whose objective is not clear. The real purpose of any military, when you think about it, is twofold: 1)to kill people and break things when so directed, and 2)use the threat of force to keep...

4 years ago
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The Destroyers Book 3 Civil WarChapter 2 Civil War Part 2

Washington DC Twenty-four hours before the attack on the docks, several congressional representatives and senators were having a small poker party at one of the member's houses. Tony Garcia, a Representative from the State of New Mexico was just reaching for the next card when the front door was kicked in. Standing in the doorway was a man in a camouflage uniform that seemed to shimmer as he stood there. "What..." is all he got out when he was flipped out of the chair by the needler...

2 years ago
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Ms Americana The slut is born

Ms. Americana story this time. I?m still experimenting with different form of stories, plots etc, searching for the formula that fits me the most. If you have any thoughts, don?t be afraid to write at: [email protected]. Americana belongs to Mr. X Ms. Americana: A slut is born Ms. Americana almost finished her usual night patrol through the Delta City. She kicked some pimps and criminals, saved two innocent girls from rape and found a hideout of the famous bank robbers. It was fruitful...

4 years ago
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Kinjo brs look for an American Girlfriend

I have a cool job that allows me to travel, see new places and meet people from all over the world. Each year in April, I get a visit from two Japanese businessmen, Raizo Kinjo and his younger b*****r, Hayato . They leave Japan and travel the world in search of merchandise to purchase for their f****y business. They are very small men and I tower over them like a giant. I am their protector when they are with me. The Kinjo b*****rs love American women. When they visit they expect me to provide...

2 years ago
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Kinjo brothers look for an American Girlfriend

I have a cool job that allows me to travel, see new places and meet people from all over the world. Each year in April, I get a visit from two Japanese businessmen, Raizo Kinjo and his younger brother, Hayato . They leave Japan and travel the world in search of merchandise to purchase for their family business. They are very small men and I tower over them like a giant. I am their protector when they are with me.The Kinjo brothers love American women. When they visit they expect me to provide...

1 year ago
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The American Bride

The American Bride    In the early days of Michaelmas Term, when the showers of summer have given way to the glorious, cool, sunny days of October, the Thames Valley takes on a mellow autumnal atmosphere.  The grass is still green, the trees still in leaf.  Roses still bloom before the cottages and families still walk along the towpaths, enjoying the fine weather.  The days grow shorter.  The farmers attend to the haying and harvests, and on especially clear days one can see for miles,...

2 years ago
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Tales of an American Geisha Slave Boi

Disclaimer Copyright, 2012, Patricia Steel ([email protected]) Do whatever you want with this story, only keep my name attached, please. Please report any and all orgasms arrived at through reading and masturbating to these words. I love knowing that I am deliberately manipulating your mind into an erotic state. Thanks, and Enjoy. Chapter 1 I don’t know what his business is. The only time I asked him, we were riding in his limo, on the way to a Japanese opera, and he...

4 years ago
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My American Lady friend on Vacation in the UK

I was working in the tourist trade on the Island that I live on just off the south coast of the UK mainland and I was working hard this day in the Hotel Bar when I met these two American Ladies and the husband of one of them, well these where the first Americans I had met and they where so nice and easy to get on with, they where so friendly and I got to know them very well over the next week. Bill the man wanted to buy my tartan hat from me one night when he saw me getting ready to go home,...

3 years ago
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An American Girl in Aden

An America Girl in Aden by Aurelius(The story takes place in Aden, a small British trading port in South Yemen, Arabia. The year is 1880.)“As-salaam 'aleikum.”“wa 'aleiku-salaam.” The visitors responded.“Welcome, welcome. Please seat yourselves. Be at ease. You are honoured guests in my humble home.”Mr. and Mrs. Walter Carrstairs sat down nervously on a plush upholstered chaise, anxious not to cause offence to their host. This rich Yemeni’s home was the...

1 year ago
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Masculinity in American Colleges

Caleb Douglas is the name and I’m a young African-American stud who’s having the time of his life. Seriously. Why is that? Well, let’ s see. I’m a full-scholarship student at Ripley College in Boston, Massachusetts. Ripley College was founded in the year 1950 by philanthropist and popular author Patricia Ripley and her husband, billionaire Thomas Highland Smith. They passed away ten years later but the Ripley & Smith Foundation has continued to look after the fledging college, providing...

3 years ago
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american slut in Paris revised

There was a small family resturant down the street from the hotel we were staying at. A nice place, the main thing that stuck in my mind was all the blue tile on the walls and floor. A little while after we began our meal, I decided to go grab a smoke and draw, maybe wander around a little. I am what you would call a considerate smoker and chose to light up outside, being it was daylight my mother figured I couldn't get into too much trouble by wandering. I walked out to the...

4 years ago
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Manmoirs Young American

September 1, 2007, I remember that day well. Michigan Wolverines fans wish they could forget that day. That was the day their football program took a huge hit. Since that day they haven't fully recovered. That was the day I hooked up with my first American. I was still reeling from Kira, and I was glad to get away for a couple days. I went with a few buddies down to Ann Arbor to watch that game. For me, I wanted to hit a game when the weather was still warm. We fully expected a blowout, and...

College Sex
2 years ago
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Slovene Tranny and Her American Men

Milena Dorin awakened from her slumber. She grabbed her iPhone and pressed the button to see the time. It was 6:14 a.m. She decided to get up and bathe. She walked into the master bathroom of her palatial two-bedroom, two-bath downtown condo. She pulled her douching apparatus from beneath the sink. She cleaned out her 40-inch ass. After completing that task, she hopped in the shower. The steamy, hot water felt good against her milky-white skin. She scrubbed her curvaceous figure with a purple...

3 years ago
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Sold As An American Bride

Sold as an American Bride By Jena Corso Michael and James were having a great time at their business conference in Moscow. After three days they had begun to make the business contacts they felt they needed if they were going to succeed in opening the Russian branch for the firm. On our fourth night they were beginning to adjust to the time difference and enjoying dinner and a few cocktails when Michael received an unexpected phone call. As Michael hung up the phone he stared at...

3 years ago
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Ameena arabamerican wife

Xavier watched Ameena flee when she saw him. Hecursed under his breath. He was never going to fuck her if shekept avoiding him. She'd been wearing a small bikini giving him aquick glance at an incredible body. When his prey was out ofsight, Xavier finally noticed her husband had been standingnearby. "Your wife have a problem with black men?"Norman Howard was leaning over an expensive looking digitalcamera on a tripod. He'd been trying to photograph his wife andlooked upset that he'd been...

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