Futile Resistance Ch 11
- 2 years ago
- 26
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I apologize to those of you who have waited so long for this to be posted. I broke my arm while on vacation in September and then I had hand surgery (unrelated to the broken arm) in late October. I’m not 100% yet but I was bored stiff! It’s good to be back. ~ Quint
*
French arrived at her cousin’s Paris apartment mid-afternoon the following day. She was utterly exhausted after the overnight flight and navigating from Charles de Gaulle Airport to central Paris. She had opted to take the commuter train from the airport in order to economize. Unfortunately, her choice of transport didn’t save time. She had then switched over to the Metró once she reached Paris proper and made her way to her cousin’s apartment in the 1st Arrondissement. Marie-Josée’s apartment was in a perfect location — easy access to the Bourse, the French stock exchange where she worked, but also near museums, shopping and other attractions. But as far as French was concerned, there simply were no bad locations in Paris.
The day was cold and gray with a little drizzle. The drizzle didn’t bother her because it was Paris drizzle and to her mind, that could never be bad. She had walked the few blocks from the Metro station to Marie-Josée’s flat in order to get her bearings and capture the feel of Paris. She had washed her sleeping pill down with a glass of wine on the plane the night before and had slept the entire Boston to London leg of the trip. In spite of that, she was exhausted. And she didn’t think it was jet lag. More likely, it was stress and anxiety with a little depression thrown in to round out the mix, caused by the knowledge that she had run away from a problem that would still be there when she went home.
Marie-Josée was working that day, but had left a key to her apartment with the building’s superintendent as arranged when they had spoken the night before. French greeted the man and told him who she was. He surrendered the key and French used the red-carpeted spiral staircase to access Marie-Josée’s third-floor apartment rather than the old-fashioned cage-style elevator. She knew that the old relic took forever to get moving and was in no mood to deal with cranky antique machinery.
She was glad that her cousin was at work. It gave her a chance to collect herself before she had to offer explanations for her out of character behavior in making the sudden trip to France. All she wanted to do was sink into the big old tub that was the only luxury in the small bathroom. Maybe after a long soak, she would feel more in the mood for talking and explaining. And for thinking. She had kept true to her word and not devoted any time or energy into thinking about the situation with Aidan and Hurst. She tried to convince herself that the dullness of her thoughts and feelings were attributable to fatigue, not depression. She was only moderately successful.
Marie-Josée had left a ‘welcome to Paris’ note alongside a big bouquet of flowers whose scent had been detectable the moment French walked into the apartment. She took her bags to the tiny guest-bedroom-cum-office, then went to the equally tiny kitchen to prepare a cup of tea to take with her into the bathtub. As she filled the tub, French stripped down and examined herself in the mirror. She looked awful. Her normally fine-textured complexion was grainy and she had bags underneath bloodshot eyes. Even her hair was dull and lank. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, her appearance mirrored her emotional state.
She scanned the rest of her body, feeling a pang of longing and a fleeting quiver of arousal when she noted the bruises and whisker burn on the most intimate parts of her body. She allowed her fingertips to trace over the faint bruise on her neck, to slide down to the night-beard-abraded curve of her breast. She grazed a still-sensitive, swollen nipple, then followed the curve of her waist and hip to the juncture of her thighs and on to her inner thigh, where Aidan had placed a love bite.
Her hand lingered there as she remembered what it had felt like to be possessed by, consumed by, Aidan. He had been fierce in his lovemaking, forcing her to feel, know, accept and love him with every fiber of her being. She had had no choice but to respond to his demands, could not help but to love him as he loved her. French’s bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears as she abruptly turned away from her image.
She sank into the tubful of hot, deliciously scented water. Leaning back against the rim of the tub, she sighed and drew in deep, calming breaths. She willed her body to relax, tried to force the tension she carried to melt away. She took another deep breath and on the exhale, she choked and was surprised when great gut-wrenching sobs erupted from her throat. The grief and despair that had filled her for the past forty-eight hours came pouring out. She grieved the loss of Aidan. She mourned the loss of that glimpse of happiness she had so briefly experienced. Her lip quirked with a bitter smile, How could she have ever dared think she was cut out for the white picket fence life? Married, with 2.5 children and a grinning yellow Labrador? She had always known that that world wasn’t for her. But, with Aidan, for one tiny moment, she had thought it was possible. She was such a fool. There was no way things between them could be salvaged. The specter of Patrick Hurst would always be between them. Even if they tried to carry on as though things were normal, they would always know, each of them would always remember exactly what set French apart from Aidan. Her history, and his, were facts of life and wouldn’t change just because they wished them to.
Seeing Patrick Hurst had brought the insecurities she had thought long-buried roaring to the surface of her consciousness. He had treated her with a cruel disdain that was all too familiar. While she knew it was undeserved, it was hurtful nonetheless. As a child, French had wondered what was wrong with her that her father could have abandoned her. Her schoolmates were, for the most part, from intact families and she hadn’t understood why she had a mother but not a father. She had once asked her mother why she didn’t have a daddy. Marcheline had told her the unvarnished truth: Patrick Hurst hadn’t loved or wanted her. He had walked away from her without looking back.
French realized many years later exactly how cruel her mother had been to tell her, at the tender age she had been, that her father hadn’t wanted her. Learning that her father had thrown her away had confused her, especially when Marcheline had maliciously told her that her father had three children that lived with him and were loved by him. French had been plagued with feelings of inadequacy. Her father’s other children must be very special to have earned their father’s love. She spent the years of her childhood struggling to discover what defect she possessed, what offense she hadcommitted that was so egregious that her father would abandon her forever. She had never been able to find anything to explain her abandonment and had never been able to make up for any supposed shortcomings. Marcheline was the farthest thing from an attentive mother and French took her mother’s indifference and absenteeism as further proof that she was truly unlovable.
Coupled with the utter confusion about her parents’ behavior toward her, French was subjected to the viciousness of her classmates. She was the only Black girl in her class and some of the kids were merciless. They picked on her for being a bastard and for being of mixed race. And most confounding of all, they said nasty things about her mother, things she wouldn’t be capable of understanding until later, because despite being Marcheline’s daughter, French was a naïf.
French coped with these things the only way she could: she withdrew behind a wall, pretended that none of what was said to her or about her penetrated the boundary she’d erected. Eventually, when her tormentors stopped receiving the pay-off — the t
ears, the anger – they were looking for, they left her alone. But not before pieces of her had been chipped away. Through those initial encounters with her peers and under the cruel care of her mother, French learned that hiding behind walls, not showing a response, not allowing things or people to mean too much to her was the safest way to exist.
As she grew older, her self-esteem improved. She excelled musically and possessed a rapier-sharp intellect that was manifest in the superior marks she earned in school. She had also become aware that she possessed physical beauty. Teachers and the one or two close friends she had, had pointed out her many positive attributes. Having adopted an affinity for logic and honesty, she could only agree that she did possess them. Nonetheless, the broken little girl remained inside her. French was plagued with self-doubt whenever anything bad happened. If good things happened, she always wondered if she was trying to live someone else’s life, someone who deserved to have good things happen to her. Part of her always thought that she wasn’t quite good enough.
Sighing, French’s thoughts returned to Aidan. Falling in love with him had been a most foolish thing to do. Crazily enough, she thought, I had actually begun to see myself as Aidan saw me and being with him made me feel like a better person, a person deserving of good things. She had shared her most hidden self with him, had told him all the things she was ashamed of and afraid of. He had always told her that none of it mattered anymore, that none of it changed the way he felt about her. That is, until she told him that Hurst was her father.
She kept telling herself not to be angry with Aidan, that everyone had their limits. Apparently, she had heaped one too many of her imperfections on him and he had been unwilling to bear the burden. But try as she might to keep it at bay, her sense of indignation would not be denied. She was furious that he would withdraw from her and blame her for her parentage when she had obviously had nothing to do with it. She had thought Aidan’s character was such that he would not recoil from this latest unpleasantness. Maybe he wasn’t all I’d imagined him to be, she thought, maybe he’d been leading me on throughout our whole relationship.
As wonderful as being with him had felt for a short time, it wasn’t worth the pain she felt now. Aidan had rejected her, had chosen loyalty to Hurst over loyalty to her. She had been making a groundless jab at Aidan when, during their argument, she had told him he was just like Hurst, but in light of the present circumstances, there was almost no distinguishing between Aidan and Hurst. Patrick Hurst had walked away from the problem her conception and birth had presented. Aidan had essentially done the same thing.
*****
Aidan was up early, determined to find and speak with French as soon as possible. He needed to know what the hell she was thinking that she would secret herself away from him. He had gotten precious little sleep the previous night and he was edgy, wired from the coffee he had drunk in order to jumpstart his brain. He walked to French’s apartment, hoping that he would get there early enough that she hadn’t left for the day. If she was even there, the grim thought lingered at the back of his mind.
As he neared the front of her building, he saw someone sitting on the stoop, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of luggage. He drew closer and realized the person was a woman, huddled deep in a fur coat and hat to ward off the cold of a late-December morning in Boston. The woman looked at him appraisingly, stood up from her crouched position, smoothing a hand down her sides and straightening her hat.
‘Good morning,’ Aidan said politely, sidling past her to the door.
‘Bonjour, cher,’ the woman said, her voice sexily hoarse.
Recognition and remembrance slammed into Aidan. French’s mother, Marcheline Delauney, was here in the flesh. With all the upheaval, he had forgotten that she was due to arrive. Apparently, French had forgotten as well, seeing as her mother sat on the stoop in the cold rather than inside French’s warm apartment. Aidan decided not to identify himself to her just yet.
‘Bonjour, comment ca va?’ he replied.
‘Ah, vous parlez francais,’ Marcheline purred coquettishly, fluttering her long lashes and darting a fetching gaze up at him.
Wow, this woman is a master, Aidan thought.
‘Actually, I don’t speak much beyond what I just said,’ Aidan prevaricated. He spoke enough to get along, but wasn’t quite up to parsing words with this woman in a language other than his own.
‘Alors, we speak in English. You live here?’ she asked.
‘Nope, just visiting someone. Why are you sitting in the cold?’
‘I visit my daughter. She know I am coming, mais she is no here,’ Marcheline replied in charmingly broken English, shrugging and gesturing with typical gallicisms. ‘I know not where she is,’ she finished, shivering and moving closer to him, seeking warmth and protection from the handsome man who stood before her.
Aidan could immediately understand why she appealed to men. She was tiny and very beautiful, with rich cocoa colored skin and fine features. French had inherited her wonderfully mobile, kissably soft lips from her mother. Marcheline was well preserved: nearing fifty with no wrinkles or lines to mar her face. She had led a cosseted life. She so consummately played the role of damsel in distress that he imagined most men would immediately want to be the knight on a white charger who rescued her. Even knowing what she was all about, he was inclined to help her.
‘Well, madame, I’ll see if my friend is home and if she is, you can come up and wait with us until your daughter returns.’
‘Ah, oui. C’est parfait! Merci, cher,’ she said with an overabundance of gratefulness, laying her leather-glove clad hand on his arm. ‘J’ai très froid!’ she finished, shivering dramatically.
Aidan held the door open for her and they proceeded into the vestibule. He went to the bank of buzzers and pushed the one that rang French’s apartment.
‘Mais, chér, this is my daughter’s apartment,’ Marcheline exclaimed.
‘What a coincidence! French is your daughter?’
‘Oh — that nickname,’ she tut-tutted, then confirmed. ‘Oui, Francoise est ma fille. Who are you?’
‘A friend,’ Aidan replied.
Marcheline looked at him, as though hoping to divine his true identity through his appearance. He withstood the scrutiny, not batting an eyelash at the questions he saw in her eyes. He didn’t intend to answer any of them. Rather, he hoped to turn this situation to his advantage by having her answer a few questions.
There had been no answer from French’s apartment. He rang the buzzer again and they waited in silence for the answer they knew would not be forthcoming. Aidan decided to ring one of French’s neighbors, the stereotypical old lady who had lived in the building for decades and made note of everyone’s comings and goings.
She, of course, answered immediately.
‘Mrs. Hirschbaum, it’s Aidan Conal, French’s friend. I’m here with her mother and we can’t find French. Have you seen her?’
She buzzed them in and they went to her first floor apartment whose door was tucked behind the stairs. She opened the door the merest crack and peered at them shrewdly. Apparently, it had belatedly occurred to her that perhaps she shouldn’t have opened the door to strangers. Recognizing Aidan for who he said he was, she opened the door wider and gestured them across the threshold.
‘Good morning, Mrs. Hirschbaum. How are you today?’ Aidan asked politely.
‘This cold weather is making my bones ache,’ she complained the way she always did. ‘I should have moved to Florida years ago. I’m just getting too old for these Boston winters.’
‘You don’t look or act a day over fifty,’ Aidan responded, the way he always did when Mrs. Hirschbaum fished for compliments. ‘M
rs. H, this is French’s mother, Marcheline Delauney. She’s here to visit her daughter, but French isn’t answering her buzzer. Have you seen her?’
‘Why, yes, I have. She left last evening at around 6-ish, looked like she was going on a trip. She had a little suitcase with wheels on it when she got into the cab out front.’ Mrs. H could always be counted on to have noticed the details. ‘I can’t imagine that you didn’t know she was going on a trip…’ she finished speaking, her painted-on eyebrows arched in question as she waited for an explanation.
‘We had a bit of a disagreement,’ Aidan said, his heart in his throat, reeling from the news that French had really left him. ‘I left to get some fresh air and when I came back she was gone.’
Marcheline listened intently, but didn’t comment. Aidan glanced at her and could see the wheels turning in her mind. He guessed correctly that she intended to use everything she learned to her own advantage.
‘Tch,’ Mrs. H sucked her teeth. ‘You kids and your passions. My late husband and I learned the hard way never to walk out on an argument. We were divorced because of just that and the day we met to sign the divorce papers was when we realized the whole thing had been a big misunderstanding. Our pride had kept us apart,’ she mused. ‘We got remarried the same day of our divorce!’
Aidan had heard the story before and he wholeheartedly understood what Mrs. Hirschbaum was trying to tell him: Don’t let pride stop you from communicating with the ones you love. He was champing at the bit to communicate with French. In fact, he had a choice bit of communicating to do with regard to her disappearing act, but of course, he’d need to find her first.
‘Mrs. H, I was wondering if you still had French’s spare apartment key?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘I think Madame Delauney would be more comfortable waiting for French in her apartment. Do you mind if I let her in?’
‘Not at all dear. Let me get the key.’
They followed Mrs. H up the two flights of stairs to French’s apartment. In spite of her claims of old age, Mrs. H was as spry and agile as anyone Aidan knew. She let them in and handed the key to Aidan.
‘Please be sure to return it, won’t you dear?’
‘Yes, Mrs. H. Thank you for your help.’
Marcheline stepped over the threshold and gracefully swept the fur hat from her head. She turned her back to him and unbuttoned her coat, clearly expecting Aidan to assist her in its removal. He was amused by her high-handed behavior, but he complied, because he was always a gentleman. As he hung the coat and hat in the closet, Marcheline dug around in her purse for her cigarettes. Aidan heard the click of her lighter and turned around.
‘French wouldn’t approve of smoking in her apartment,’ Aidan observed.
‘You are correct, she would not approve. She does not approve of anything, especially not anything I do,’ Marcheline said, with a dismissive gesture of her hand. Cocking her head, she looked him in the eye and asked, ‘Are you and my daughter lovers?’
Without blinking, Aidan replied, ‘With all due respect, Madame, I don’t think that’s any of your business.’
Marcheline laughed seductively. ‘Touché, cher. But I will tell you what I think. I think that you and Francoise are not lovers. You and she would never suit. I can tell that you are a man of passion,’ she said as she sashayed around French’s living room, picking up and discarding knickknacks and mementoes, depositing ashes from her cigarette in potted plants. ‘Francoise sees the world in black and white. If you deal in shades of gray, she is a harsh, exacting judge. She is a one dimensional woman, cold and unfeeling,’ she finished with an exaggerated shudder.
Marcheline clearly did not know her daughter, Aidan thought, the woman had no idea how deeply French felt, how passionate she was when she felt safe enough. He also noticed that her English was quite good, her accent was not so pronounced now.
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Hi friends I am big fan of ISS , Special Incest , here brothers makes love with their hot sister. I’m raj age 28, 5.9 tall , well built , It was party in our society, I generally don’t go to such events, but due to option and much forced by mom I have to go. It was boring their many old aged peoples where in party. I was feeling I too old in them 8 PM I was busy chatting on phone with friends, Now Slowly the crowd was increasing and many hot girls and young boys were arriving to the...
A few years ago I was dating this guy who was great, and really into me, but always busy and we had never addressed the issue of sex since at the time neither of us had the pleasure of that experience. His name was Todd, and he was the kind of guy who was always practical and although he never said anything to slight me and was very open to my ideas about our relationship, he never really did any of those little things that in a relationship, such as little cute surprises or whatnot. In the...
First TimeIt was my first semester of my Sophomore year of High School, and I was in trouble. I've never been a ladies man, always the dork. Always shy, and here I was in a class full of teenage girls. I stuttered every answer to every question, and the seating wasn't exactly conducive to avoiding eye contact. Small tables, with two people on each side, facing each other. I was facing a freshmen, a girl named Charley. She was pretty, not gorgeous, not a stick, plump, rounded. And she, for some...
I wake to the feeling of her sliding into bed behind me. She’s coming home from work and it’s late. I can smell the scent of her sweat from long day of hard work teaching lessons at the ice rink. I’m exhausted too. The two of us are in our twenties, trying to make ends meet in a ski resort community with a ridiculous cost of living. For me, a twelve hour driving shift is the norm, today was thirteen hours and full of complications. At this point I’m certainly too exhausted to start anything,...
Emily was sitting bedside. Terry, her father, was asleep in his hospital bed. He was having complications after hip replacement surgery. She slipped off her Tory Burch heels and stretched her legs. The chairs here were uncomfortable and she was stiff from sitting all day behind her desk. Emily was one of the hospital’s top administrators. ‘You’d think I would get a better chair,’ she thought. She got up, her hips moving smoothly in her pencil skirt, and bent down to stretch her hamstrings....
The front door opened and Mike peered round the door frame. “Where’s Emily, where’s my daughter?” shouted Jan, as she shoved past Mike and headed for the lounge. Mike never had a chance to stop her as he was pushed to one side. Jan was through the door and immediately clasped eyes on Emily on all fours, raising her head from Maggie’s pussy as both women heard the commotion in the hall. “Mother,” Emily cried as she turned to face her. “What the fuck are you doing Emily, get home right now,”...
TabooEmily was sitting bedside. Terry, her father, was asleep in his hospital bed. He was having complications after hip replacement surgery. She slipped off her Tory Burch heels and stretched her legs. The chairs here were uncomfortable and she was stiff from sitting all day behind her desk. Emily was one of the hospital's top administrators. "You'd think I would get a better chair," she thought. She got up, her hips moving smoothly in her pencil skirt, and bent down to stretch her hamstrings....
ReluctanceI wake to the feeling of her sliding into bed behind me. She's coming home from work and it's late. I can smell the scent of her sweat from long day of hard work teaching lessons at the ice rink. I'm exhausted too. The two of us are in our twenties, trying to make ends meet in a ski resort community with a ridiculous cost of living. For me, a twelve hour driving shift is the norm, today was thirteen hours and full of complications. At this point I'm certainly too exhausted to start anything,...
SeductionHi, guys, this is Renee for you again. Loved your emails every bit of it. I tried to respond to every mail I could hopefully you guys find me on facebook using and we can be good friends. It’s been a long time since I shared my story. I decided to share another story of mine in Hindi on public demand. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy and apologise for any mistake. Toh ye kahani pichle mahine ki h ki kaise maine paiso k liye ek anjan insan ko santusht kiya. Jaise ki aap sab jante h ki mera...
all started one Friday night after a long day at school. It was the first semester of freshman year in high school and a guy named Paul and I had become great friends. I had planned a small party at my house for about 10 guys and girls. Paul was staying at my house because his parents were out of town, so he rode home with me once school got out. Being that it was mid December, it snowed a lot. Before we knew it, a huge snow storm had come in and shut down everything in the city. None of my...
If the truth be told, I am not a woman who lusts for young boys, it's not something I have ever thought about, or dwelt on, even in those quieter moments, when ones inner feelings tend to take hold, lustful thoughts, forbidden sex, where no law or person can intervene, its you, your darker innermost secrets and desires, combine to weave you into a playful fulfillment, you, your thoughts, and the gentle vibrations and fingertips, your tools, gliding over your hot and moistened flesh, you writhe...
A couple of years ago I was so horny I found myself jacking off to all kinds of things that I had never experienced. I would check out different websites but never really felt safe with any of them.One day I was on Craigslist and decided to check out M2M. I saw a lot of photos of guys showing their cocks and then there was this one where a guy was just looking for a jackoff buddy. I was tempted to respond but then changed my mind. Next day, after thinking more about it, I decided to take a...
Hi, main —— hoon…maire email id hai …. aur aap sab se apni real life story share karna chahta hoon…main mandsaur ka rehne walan hoon… baat tab ki hain jab main 18 saal ka tha.. aur apni 12th ki studies poori kar chuka tha..aur grdauarion karne ke liye ..kisi achhi jagah i mean university ki talash kar raha tha… tab mere doston ne bolan ki “tu mumbai kyun nahin chala jata padhne ke liye mujhe ye idea sahi laga aur maine gharwalon se baat ki to vo raaji ho gaye….fir maine mumbai ke ek colg...
The covered truck drove through the gates and past the bit white house. It pulled off the concrete roadway onto the dirt track that led to the quarters. The small unpainted buildings were set in a circle. Nine small houses each one room, twenty feet square with a door and two windows. They were not proper houses with sheet rock covering the wall studs, but the roofs would keep out the rain and each had a small kitchen with a pantry and two beds against the back wall. Now they were new, but...
By the time I was eighteen I was married and pregnant, by the time I was twenty my husband had left me with a two-year-old son to raise and no forwarding address. Of course, I applied for a divorce and got one very quickly thanks to the fact that no-one could find the sod so there was no contesting of the divorce, at twenty-one I was free yet still lumbered with a kid to bring up. I suppose in a way I took out some of my anger with my ex-husband on my son Max; don't get me wrong I loved him,...
Linda walked down the school hall almost trembling. The thirst was very strong, and she knew what would satisfy it. Worse was the fact that she couldn't help but stare at every boy's crotch, imagining his penis, thinking how would his sperm taste. And it made her so horny that her panties were already soaked. In a few more hours she would be dripping! "Hi Linda!" Linda was startled by Nicole's voice from behind her... "Earth to Linda. Do you hear me?" Debbie said as she approached....
Note : This story is completely fictional! Aunt Mauree flew in on a cool spring eve.I had no clue she was visiting until I recieved a suprise call. I had recently moved into an apartment and she wanted to see it. So,I gave her directions and she showed up later that night. She strolled in with her luggage and set them down. I asked if she needed a place to stay. She said,"If you don't mind." I instantly approved seeing that I always stay with her when i visit her. I was more focused on her...
Incest100% fiction! After having my brothers 9.5 inch thick cock explode in my mouth, I knew I had to have it inside my wet pussy. My pussy wanted his huge cock inside it. He stayed hard after I sucked him off. I came twice as I enjoyed him in my mouth. I have never been so horny. My pussy ached for him. I pushed him onto his back and straddled his beautiful cock. I was so wet he slipped easily into me. His thick cock filled my pussy. I came instantly. I never thought I could take a cock so big. It...
IncestThis story is fictional! I was in my car on my way to my sister's house , I haven't seen her and my neice and my sis's boyfriend. My job keeps me busy in Honolulu city I don't get to go to the country. So I took 2weeks off to visit them it's been a year since I saw them even though we are close. Alana my sister is 45 and i'm 42 and my neice Star is 25 my sister's son moved to the mainland for colledge. I was married once but I caught my wife cheating on me with guest at her hotel. I had some...
IncestSo what now? The world has changed. Nothing will ever be how it was. Traditions, holidays, birthdays, and just those good ole lazy days, will never again be the same. I grew up out at my great-grandmother’s house. Until I was seven, it was the place I called home. In the movie, ‘Where The Heart Is’, one character says, ‘Home is where they catch you, when you fall.’ I believe that whole-heartedly. That old farm caught me when I fell many times. I remember going out there to soul search....
Steve’s fenders bolted ... all the holes fit ... the gauge was correct ... they looked perfect. Better than new. “What colour?” Alice said. “I thought the same as the body,” I said. “I dunno,” she said. “Google?” We looked. I, on my desktop, and she on her laptop. There was a ton of, “That’s nice,” and, “I like that.” A few “Eww’s,” and, one, “That’s positively ugly.” Evidently, we were on the same page because the rejection exclamation was said like twins. “Come here, look at this.”...
Namshkar dosto main phli story likne ja rha hu dosto mera naan kunal h ar main varanasi ka rhne wala hu. Ab main seedhe khani pe aata hu mere pados ek khub surat didi rhti thi jinka naam poonam tha wo kafi sexi lgti thi apne figur ki vajah se main unko dil hi dil me khub pyar krta tha main unko dekhne ka mauka kabhi bhi nai chodta tha wo mujhpe kafi vishwas karti thi ar mere sath kabhi kabhi market bhi jaya krti thi jb wo bike pe mere piche baithti thi to mujhe lgta tha ki main apni biwi ko...
Ms. Peters got up of the ground. I saw that drops of my cum were falling from her pussy to the ground or running down her legs while she walked toward her desk. She got some wet wipes out of her purse and cleaned herself up. There was this awkward silence combined with the smell of her juices in the room. I stood up too and got my clothes back on. Ms. Peters was already fully dressed when i was done."We have to watch out. The janitors must been cleaning the hallway already.", she said in a...
[Preservation – Janice] After George finished (see Protection and Preservation, Books 1 and 2) telling his story, I asked the question no one else seemed willing to ask. "George, how does marriage work?" George replied, "We allow plural marriage. All parties have to have reached the age of consent, which we voted to be fifteen. All have to be willing and publicly announce their union. I started out with one wife but she and Judith got me to go along with Judith coming into our marriage....
This story was pieced together from several conversations with my wife, normally after several drinks when she was more open to sharing. Even then, she was pretty reluctant to talk about it but I am the kind of guy who wants to hear details. I'll share more details about my wife's past in a later story but although out of character for my wife at the time, let's just say there is some history here.About 10 years ago, my wife used to attend Bunco parties in a different neighborhood. If you...
Hi friends mera naam sonali hai 26 yrs, 36-29-38 fair color and sexy lips and eyes. I am an MBA and working in a MNC in a gud position. Main aapko mere colllege ka kissa batana chahti hun jab mein 3 din tak 4 ladkon ke saath maze kie the aur sach mein maza aa gaya thaa. Baat us time ki hai jab main college mein tha, mere BF ka naam Rahul tha, uska 4 doston ka group thaa Rahul, Ajay, Rocky and Puri. sabki gf ki, lekin last talk aate aate sabka breakup hou gaya tha bas mujhe aur rahul ko chod...
You know when its a holiday and you just wanna check out & play video games? Especially when your grandma is trying to get you to go to church. Step-grandma, whatever… Easter is barely a holiday & bunnies don’t lay eggs. When my step-grandma Andi James called in sick for me, I (Johnny Love) couldn’t believe my ears! A whole afternoon of online video games was in front of me. But Andi wanted a favor in return. When she started running her hands into my boxers I was...
xmoviesforyouYesterday the air conditioner quit during the hottest part of the day, and I vowed that I would put a service call first thing this morning. Yesterday the temperature was in the low 90's F and today was supposed to be even hotter. I called the first number in the yellow pages of the phone book under service and requested that the workmen come early as it was going to be hot again today. "The repairmen will be there between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. depending on their service loads, but we will try to...
Erotic"You got everything, Char?" Stephanie asked. Char, who was near tears, simply nodded. The suitcases were loaded into the trunk of the Mustang, everything she owned and everything I owned. Ron shut the trunk and walked over to us. He handed me a credit card, a cell phone, and a wad of bills. He patted me on the shoulder and smiled at me. Then he stood with his hands in his pockets, smiling. Charlotte stepped up and hugged him. "Don't you cry now, my girl. We'll be up to see you guys...
Debutante Janet L. Stickney Janetlynn17@Hotmail.com I spent several hours getting ready for my debut, and once I got ready I did not hesitate, and walked out of my room. I just stood there a moment gathering my nerve before I walked down the few stairs and exposed myself to my mom. I wore a straight black skirt that was just above my knees with a red blouse and black heels. My hair was pulled into a ponytail and my makeup was muted and tasteful. She turned and saw me as I stopped on...