Evas Rising Secret
- 2 years ago
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This story will only make sense if you’ve read ‘The Education of Eva.’ Everybody in this story is over eighteen.
After the weekend at the mansion, we three girls returned to our routine, ‘working’ – if work is an adequate description for what we did – from our luxury Costa del Sol pad. I, for one, knew that my attitude was changed for ever, that, for me, there was more to life than parties, and being groped and screwed. My experience during that weekend, with Monique and her husband Jean-Paul, had left me with more questions than answers, it is true, and I still had no idea what I thought about Petra.
On the subject of Petra, she was strangely silent after the weekend, and when I showed her the welts Monique had inflicted on me, and described what had happened to me at the mansion, she was reticent about what the Arab, Ben Sayid, and his wives, had demanded of her. I dropped the subject – in any case, I didn’t feel as if I wanted to share with anyone what I had felt for Monique during those two days, until time gave me a chance to find out what I really felt for the lovely Frenchwoman who had taken possession of me, and taught me the true relationship between pain and ecstasy.
But I was grateful for Petra’s presence beside me in my bed, and her feminine softness was a joy whenever we returned after an assignment – which usually involved sex with some minor celebrity, politician or rich businessman.
By the time we were due to return to Madrid as the summer season drew to a close, the life of an upper-class whore was, I suppose, starting to pall. Because, dress it up whatever way they could, call us ‘escorts’ if they liked, that’s exactly what we were – it’s just that we didn’t have to stand on street-corners like the poor kids out there on the Avenida Castellana.
Things went quiet after the summer season for a while, and when Tina dropped in from her flat nearby one day, and suggested that Petra and I might be interested in a bit of ‘decoration,’ we looked at each other, then back at the invariably exhibitionist Tina, who lifted her short skirt to reveal a spectacular tattoo – a brightly-coloured serpent, coiled around one thigh, its head disappearing into her shaven pussy. We both laughed, and I declared there and then that I ‘wasn’t into tattoos.’
But Tina wasn’t to be put off that easily, and told us that the establishment she was recommending did all kinds of things, not just tattoos, from piercing to false nails and hair extensions. ‘Come with me,’ she said, ‘you’ll be surprised.’
We agreed to go along next day, and duly showed up at the smart modern premises in a commercial estate – not at all the sleazy back-street joint I had expected – with the very un-Spanish sign ‘Body-Art’ over the door.
A smiling blonde with a gold ring at the side of her nose welcomed us and seemed to be expecting us – clearly Tina had told her we should be coming.
‘I know the way,’ said Tina, and led us up a flight of stairs and through a swing door into a big clean tiled room like a clinic, with several reclining chairs and benches to be seen. Two of the chairs were occupied by young women, white towels draped over their abdomens, whilst another client sat on a stool, proferring her tongue to be pierced, and there seemed to be at least half a dozen assorted white-coated staff scurrying about. There was a smell of antiseptic.
Tina introduced us to an attractive middle-aged woman, whom she called Bibi, and who enquired as to what it was we wanted done.
I had long thought it time to have my navel pierced and said so, but Petra already had had hers done.
‘I see you’ve already had your tongues done,’ observed Bibi, ‘but what about your labia, as you’re here? Would you like me to have a look at them, and see what we can do?’
I nodded uncertainly, but Petra seemed more positive and so it was that I found myself in a vacant chair, not unlike the one at the dentist’s, while Bibi and a younger girl prodded and probed. In no time at all I had had my navel pierced, and a silver ring threaded in. When Bibi asked me what sort of decoration I wanted, I told her that I loved things that dangled. She fetched me a tray, and I selected a triple silver chain about ten centimetres long which would swish around nicely against my belly.
Bibi had inspected my pussy closely and declared me an ideal subject for a pierced clitoris. She told me that few women had a clit big enough to achieve this, as it was normally covered by the hood, but that mine was just asking to be done, and that it would be enhanced beautifully. I was terrified, and asked her if it would hurt.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘for a moment, but it’s terribly exciting as well. Would you like to look at mine?’
I nodded dumbly and she needed no further encouragement to lift her starched white housecoat and the silk slip she wore underneath. She pushed aside the gusset of loose silk panties she wore, and there, nestling in the pink crack of her neat pussy, was a silver ring, with a little opalescent stone set into it, projecting from the small protruding bud of her clit. It was all I could do not to reach out and touch it, and I wasn’t sure that it wasn’t what she wanted, anyway.
But the moment passed, and she turned away, a half smile on her face – she knew what had been on my mind.
It seemed I had agreed to have it done! Before I could say anything more, Bibi was between my legs – which were in stirrups – and she was teasing out my clit, an altogether pleasant sensation, despite my fears. But then she produced, as if out of thin air, the piercing tool, and told me to keep very still. I was trembling like a leaf, and then there was an awful, blinding pain, and an accompanying sensation the like of which I had never felt in my life, but which was close to that which I knew when I was whipped severely – a ferocious, searing, climactic orgasm that almost caused me to lose consciousness.
‘It’s done!’ said a voice from a million miles away. It was Bibi, by my side, wiping my brow. ‘No sex for at least two weeks – and apply this lotion every night,’ she said, giving me a bottle.
I was soon reunited with Petra, who had been unable to have her clit done, as her hood covered it too completely, so had had a ring inserted in her hood – an altogether simpler process. Then Tina met us in the reception area, where she had been chatting with the blonde, and suggested we go with her and have some lunch, then return to visit another department.
‘Fuck,’ I said, ‘no more pain, please. I’ve had enough today!’
‘No,’ said Tina, ‘no more pain, trust me.’
We had a bite of lunch and returned to the ‘Body-Art’ headquarters in the afternoon. Tina led us to what she described as the ‘nail-room’ where we were seated and shown a bewildering variety of false fingernails, and given lots of advice. I had contemplated having a set fitted for a long time – it was just too much trouble maintaining my natural ones all the time, and when the long red porcelain talons were in place, I wondered why I hadn’t had them done earlier.
Then Tina said, ‘You like dangly things, don’t you?’
‘Yes, why?’ I replied.
She brought a smiling little assistant to show me a brochure, with a picture of a nail, from which a tiny chain was hanging. I was intrigued.
‘Would you like something like this?’ she asked, and before I had the chance to reply she had produced a tiny pocket drill, which whined when she flicked it on. I nodded as she put it carefully to the nail on my left pinky, and, in a second, had produced a tiny, neat round hole. Into this she inserted a minute gold ring, which he squeezed up with pliers: from it hung a chain about three centimetres long, with a small stone set in a clasp at its end. I knew it was going to get in my way all the time, but discomfort was a part of sensuality – a reminder, somehow, of the borders of pain and ecstasy, that ven I couldn’t ha
ve bgun to describe. I watched Petra being fitted with a similar device, and we exchanged knowing looks – she, at least, would understand!
When we returned to our apartment block, Olga had pushed a note under my door. It gave me a telephone number to ring, and said it was urgent. It was a Spanish mobile number – I thought, ‘somebody doesn’t have my mobile number!’
Wondering who on earth it could be, curiosity got the better of me.
I knew the answering voice instantly. It was a voice I had had dreams about, masturbated while I remembered my weekend with its owner, fantasised about what I wanted her to do to me again, about the kiss of her lash on my naked back, the feel of her tongue as it probed my most secret openings, and about her husband, Jean-Paul, his strong hands on my hips as his erect cock plunged deep into my anus, while she, my lovely Monique, let me kiss her sweet cunt.
My legs were weak as I spoke to her, and she heard the tremble in my voice as she arranged to meet me in a city centre coffee bar at ten next morning.
I hardly slept that night, troubled by the soreness in my pussy, but still more by the nervousness that my impending meeting with Monique was causing.
I got up early, made up carefully, brushed my hair to a silken sheen, dressed in a maroon silk dress with a flared skirt – the best I had – and a pair of good shoes, and took a taxi to our venue. Monique was already there, dressed in a white pleated skirt and brown silk blouse. She looked as lovely as ever, her dark eyes flashing, black hair curling down over her collar.
She held my hand as she spoke to me, and I felt all my love for her from a few weeks before surge back into me, take possession of me, and make me want to do anything, absolutely anything, that she wanted of me.
She made small-talk and played with the decoration on my pinky: I found myself telling her that I’d had my clit pierced as well. Her voice lowered half an octave as she told me how she wanted to inspect that, and I trembled with the anticipation of it.
Then Monique became suddenly businesslike.
‘You know I told you we were going to the Seychelles?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, you can forget that.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes,’ she went on, ‘things have changed.’ She paused. ‘Have you read ‘O”
It took me a moment to adjust to the abrupt change of subject. ‘No, but I’ve seen the film,’ I said.
‘Good enough,’ she relied, ‘so you know about Roissy?’
‘A fictitious castle where ‘O’ is trained?’
‘Correct. What you may not know is that ‘O’ has a tremendous cult status in France. There are whole lots of people who would like to go to a real place like ‘Roissy’ and even a club, the PRAGs’
‘PRAG?’
‘Pauline Reage Appreciation Group.’
‘Oh!’
‘Well, as you may not know, Jean-Paul’s father left him a lot of money, and we have decided to open an establishment on similar lines to ‘Roissy’ – though nowhere near Paris, as that would probably excite too much attention.’
‘Monique,’ I said, ‘why are you telling me all this?’
‘Because, darling, I should like you and your friend to be our first members of staff.’
‘Petra as well?’
‘Ah, so that’s her name, Jean-Paul thought it was Paula. Yes.’
‘Oh, Monique, I’d love to come. I’ll have to clear it with my boss, of course, and I don’t know about Petra, but I think she’ll want to, as well.’ In truth, I hadn’t thought about it – what it would entail, what my duties might be, anything – just the idea of being around Monique and Jean-Paul, and with Petra there as well, that was all I could have wished for, and I just blurted out my acceptance!
Monique had to leave in a hurry, so I promised to let her know when I could come to Paris to meet her, and, hopefully, bring Petra, and we parted.
Petra was initially sceptical. ‘You’ve gotta be joking,’ she said, ”O’ is a fantasy, darling. Places like Roissy don’t exist. The police would close them down in no time. It’s got to be some kind of a scam. You’re just cuntstruck over this French tart, and….and, well, anything she says, you’re easy meat!’
‘And you just wouldn’t be a weeny bit jealous, would you?’ I rejoined.
A slow smile broke out on her lovely face, and she pulled me into her soft embrace, our studded tongues entwining. When we pulled apart, she looked deep into my eyes, and said, ‘You’re serious about this, are you?’
‘What do we have to lose?’ I asked her.
‘A meal-ticket, for starters,’ she said, my ever-practical Petra.
‘Look,’ I said, ‘things are dead quiet at the moment. Let’s ask Marta if we can go off for a couple of months, with the option of coming back for the Christmas season. She’ll jump at it – it’ll be two less to find work for.’
She did, and I called Monique the next evening and arranged to meet her in the French capital two days later.
Petra and I were, nevertheless, nervous when the Air France flight landed on time at five in the afternoon, at Charles de Gaulle airport, and we collected our scant baggage from the carousel. Monique told us we should travel light, as all the clothing we should need would be provided, and so we just brought one change of clothes and few cosmetics. When we emerged, a broad-shouldered guy in a chauffeur’s uniform was holding up a cardboard sheet with our names printed on it, and he took our bags from us without much in the way of conversation. It was soon clear that we had very little language in common, anyway, as I spoke a little French, but Petra had none at all, and our driver, whose name I learned was Didier, had no Spanish, or anything else very much. So we sat in silence as we sped through the busy traffic to a leafy suburb near Versailles, and were deposited outside a well-kept old house with a circular driveway leading to a varnished front door with shining brass furniture. It opened as soon as we approached, and Monique was standing there, dressed in a black silk kimono, her arms open in greeting.
Jean-Paul was stood behind her, dressed in a track-suit, and they both looked pleased to see us.
After we had freshened up, we sat down to a convivial dinner, and they then outlined their exciting plans for their ‘Roissy’ facsimile.
Monique glanced at her Cartier watch. ‘It’s almost eleven,’ she said, ‘you must be exhausted after your journey. I know you’ll need some sleep, and I’ve put you in separate rooms, but we’ll try to give you both sweet awakenings in the morning!’ She licked her red lips smilingly as she wished us goodnight, and had a pretty young maid show us to our adjoining rooms, on the first floor. I fell asleep just as soon as I had slipped out of my dress and crawled between the smooth satin sheets.
I awoke to the usual disorientation that you experience in a strange bedroom, but sun filtered through the shutters, and I was thinking about getting up when the door opened quietly and Monique slipped in, wearing a short white silk slip, which contrasted with her black curls.
‘Good morning, darling,’ she said, ‘I didn’t know if you were awake, but I thought I’d come and see, and I’ve sent Jean-Paul next door.’ So that was what she meant by sweet awakenings!
I pulled back the satin covers, and made room for her to slide in beside me. It felt like forever since I had felt her smooth flesh, had her open herself to me. She explored my newly-pierced navel, having already admired my unusual nail decoration the previous evening. Then her hand crept down across my belly and to the folds of my labia, to where I had told her my most intimate decoration lay. When she touched the little ring I flinched – it was still sore, and she kissed me, saying, ‘I know, darling, it must hurt, but you have made me envious, and Jean-Paul wants me to have one anyway.’
‘It hurts,’ I said, ‘but I so want you to kiss me, to put your tongue inside me, Monique – please!’ I had quite forgotten that the last time we we
re together I was obliged to address her as ‘mistress,’ and she didn’t seem at all concerned.
As she sunk her tongue deep into my cunt, and introduced a long-nailed finger slowly, gently into my hot, eager, waiting anus, and I returned the favour by lapping the wet sweetness of her fragrant crack with my studded tongue, I heard rhythmic little screams through the wall dividing my room from that of Petra, where Jean-Paul was evidently enjoying paying her a visit. But really I had no mind for anything other than Monique’s lovely body, and I came, with shuddering force, as did she, then we lay in each others’ arms for a long time, savouring the moment.
As I sat over breakfast, Monique fussing over coffee in the kitchen, Petra appeared, eyes bright and shining. A knowing look passed between us, as Monique returned, and announced that we should get ready to go straight away.
‘Where to?’ I wanted to know.
‘We’re taking you straight down to the Abbeye de Morzac,’ she said. So that was what the ‘Roissy’ copycat was called.
We were driven by the same po-faced Didier to Orly airport, where, at a small private terminal, a small but beautifully appointed Gulf Stream jet awaited us. The flight was short – no more than forty five minutes – and very smooth, and we disembarked at a small private airfield near Ste Etienne. A limo with blacked-out rear windows awaited us as we taxied to a halt.
An hour later, we passed through a village which bore the sign ‘Morzac’ and carried on, along minor roads, high into the lonely mountains of the Auvergne. When we turned off the road, down a narrow track, just wide enough for the big car, through dense pinewoods, there was no signpost. But the woods opened out and there, in front of us was a big grey-stone building, of forbidding aspect, with wide stone staircase leading up to a portico.
‘Welcome to the Abbeye de Morzac,’ said Jean-Paul, leading the way up the steps as the door was opened to us by a serious-looking young uniformed manservant.
Jean-Paul nodded to him and said, ‘Merci, Henri.’
Monique took charge then, led us all into a great refectory, and made sure we all had a good lunch, served by two uniformed maids, then she adopted a businesslike manner and addressed the two of us, ‘I know you two girls are accustomed to having a short siesta. I’ll have you shown to your rooms, and leave you for a couple of hours, then I’d like to have a sesion with you on what your duties will be, and kit you out with your uniforms.’
‘Uniforms?’ we practically chorussed, looking at each other, then at Monique, who was smiling.
‘Not like any uniform you have ever seen,’ she said, mysteriously, and left the two maids to show us to our rooms.
My room was nice – nicer than any I had ever had, with a big double bed, en suite bathroom, toiletries and cosmetics in plenty, and a big dressing alcove, but, despite Monique’s assurance that all our clothes would be provided, nothing in that line was yet in sight, except a long silk negligee, which lay across the bed, obviously for my use. In need of a shower after the journey, I took a leisurely one, slipped into the luxurious silk garment, lay on the bed and dozed off, without much of a care in the world.
After what seemed like a couple of minutes, but was certainly much longer, there was a knock on my door. One of the maids put her head around it and said, in halting Spanish, ‘You are to please come with me!’
When I started to shrug off the negligee to get dressed, she said, ‘No, no, you come…so!’ I slipped on the sandals I had come in and followed her obediently along the corridor and through a door similar to mine, into a much bigger room, with a table and easy chairs. Monique was seated in one, wearing a long black kimono, which looked like the one she had worn the night before. Petra had already arrived, and occupied another. She was, like me, wearing a long silk robe.
All day at work I couldn’t keep from thinking about the previous day’s events. Early in the morning I developed another raging hard-on that stayed with me until I went home. Several times during the day I thought I would have to go to the restroom and masturbate to relieve the pressure. But I was able to somehow successfully resist, saving myself for tonight when I hoped to come again in the presence of Keiko. As soon as I got home, I dropped my stuff on the counter and headed for...
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---Disclaimer--- I wrote this story, partially as a semi-autobiography, partially as a fictional tale. No one name in this story are in any way intended to be real and any resemblance to anyone's real life is thoroughly coincidental. This story does not contain any sexuality. It is a story about a young man's voyage into the world of girl. If you don't like it, feel free to let me know why, but please, no flames. It's immature. So feel free to criticize...it's respectable. I will...
College was a whole different way of life for me. I was living in a dorm room with another guy I had never met before. The professors didn't seem to care whether I attended their classes or not. No one was asking about my home work getting done or how everything was going. I truly felt alone and on my own. After a couple weeks of classes, however, it all seemed to make sense to me. Because I'm a morning person, I had chosen mostly morning classes, which gave me plenty of time in the...
As an old guy, who has resisted a bank card, a cell phone and the internet, finally has all three! The internet wow, what can I say, it has everything from the best to the worst instantly, and of most interest to me has been all of the porn sites! After being married to a wonderful woman for over 40 yrs and enjoying some incredible kinky sex with her I had recently started writing about her fantasy's and our sexual adventures. This had led to corresponding interacting with many women young...
I didn’t ever get a proper education, and as far as sex goes I knew what I wanted to know and that was all. Though it wasn’t very much – in fact, it was just about zero. From realising I was only interested in solo-sex in the early 60s (not that I had other options even if I wanted them) up to the late 80s, I was shielded from more or less anything apart from what I saw in my magazines, and lucky views I got. I was more than satisfied with that – from the early 60s I got a lot of satisfaction...
After that meeting, he got more chatty on the site. Asking have i done this. Did i try that? Nothing unusual for a lad that is exploring his own body and mind. I did however get the impression he was thinking more about being used than being a mutual partner in sex. Something i forgot to mention in our last meeting was just how tight his foreskin was. He has an amazing cock, but as he got hard his glad was trapped inside the skin. I tiny little hole but not enough to let his big cock head out....
Throughout the cab ride to school, and all the while he was setting his classroom in order to meet the parents; he tried his best to push last night’s dream out of his focus. Meticulously, he arranged the vase of flowers in the corner and dusted it clean. He straightened out all the desks and arranged the paraphernalia on his own desk with painstaking effort. He was in the middle of re-arranging the charts on the wall when someone interrupted. “Whoa”, came a familiar voice. It was...
(An Incestuous Harem Story) Chapter Two: Daughter's Wicked Education By mypenname3000 Copyright 2017 Note: Thanks to wrc264 for beta reading this! Leyla Umayyah I...wanted to be a slut. To please Mom. She was so right about me. I had all these whorish desires bursting through me, inspired by Clint's antics with his girlfriends, his cousins. The way he strutted around college. The way he enjoyed his cousins and other girls. I wanted to be one of those girls. I masturbated my...
My initiation into sexual knowledge was thrust on me, literally. My parents were excited, especially Dad. Uncle Walt was coming from Los Angeles for a month long visit. Dad hadn't seen his older brother for five years, and since they had been close all through their school years, he was looking forward to seeing Walt again. I had mixed emotions. Uncle Walt had twin girls, Laura and Lisa. The last time I saw them, they were eight and I was five. They had made my life miserable the...
The chairs were easy. Tony had them done by Saturday. He could strip pieces for his customers and enjoy the work, but stripping something for Jodi was a major turn on. His cock stayed hard the whole time he was working on the chairs. His mind painted pictures of Jodi and her lover doing every imaginable kind of sexual act. Images of his own lovemaking with her were superimposed into the scenes now flooding his brain. He could hear her scream, “Don’t you dare cum, and I mean...
Introduction: This is another story losely based on fact and moments that influenced the rest of my life and my fettishes The bitter wind made Andy feel even colder now, as he walked back from his school, than he had felt earlier that dark morning on the way there. His school had been closed due to power restrictions, this was the winter of discontent and the power workers had now been on strike, on and off for several weeks. Without power, the local authorities had to find emergency measures,...
Introduction: Lyn is dissatisfied by sex with her boyfriend On Friday afternoon I got home early from a business trip. My wife, Irmeli, was still at work and Helen, the uni student who I had picked up (actually she picked me up) at an engineering conference, and who now lived with us and shared in our sexual activities, was still at uni. I was glad to take off my business clothes and leap naked into the swimming pool. I swam a few laps then climbed out, fetched myself a cold beer, and sank...
-=Part One=- Claudia spotted the "new guy" right away. He was all her friends could talk about since she had entered the dark caverns of her favorite goth club. "Did you see how long his hair is?!" ... "He kind of looks like Armand, from the side" ... "Oh god I loooooove his coat" ... they whispered excitedly, blushingly looking at him without trying to be obvious. Claudia was beyond such childishness. She took a long drink of a look at him ... well, he certainly was "dark" enough for this...
Jill regretted letting Beth talk her into going for a drink with her after work. Now, she was stuck in a basement wine bar of a nearby hotel pouring her heart out. Feeling very drunk, Jill was on her fourth glass of wine as her secretary, Beth, continued to grill her, "What is wrong with you? You have been so distracted today.""Last night, I woke up in a cold sweat worrying about my son. Earlier in he evening, his father had called to belittle me because of how poorly I had raised Vic. After 18...
“I know just the woman,” I said.“Good. Good.” Kim replied. “Do you mind if I meet her first?”It was ever thus with Kim; a veneer of quiet tact masked steel. This wasn’t a request, it was a demand.“Of course I don’t,” I said.We’d met up for lunch, me and my best friend’s wife. I didn’t know if she’d told Pete we’d be meeting, but then I didn’t care much either. It wasn’t as if we’d be having a quickie in the toilets afterwards. I was helping her with her husband’s education, true. It was also...
HardcoreAs I mentioned at the end of this story: https://xhamster.com/stories/fucking-a-prostitute-of-deadwood-sd-retired-1004581 Jess would contact me when she had something set up. She also contacted me when she wanted to be fucked.It turns out the day I fucked and cummed in my mother-in-law and fucked and cummed deep inside of Jess, both my mother-in-law and Jess did have lesbian sex and ate my cum out of each others pussy. At least that is what I got from my mother-in-law the next time I went over...
I went to class that morning in a bad mood. Some students in the apartment next to mine had decided to ring in the school year with a big bash, and I had barely slept all night. At my polite request to keep the music down, several drunken frat boys had urged me to join the party. I almost considered it, but their leering gazes and sloppy attempts at flirtation made me a little sick and I withdrew.I had spoken to my mother the evening before; she was depressing me with interminable talk of...
Lesbian***** Lesson Three *****I met Steve the first day of summer break. He was over at my house visiting with my brother, hanging out in his room in the basement. Since my brother was a few years older than me, just finishing up his freshman year, we didn't really play together or mingle much. I was watching television in the living room. I don't think i even knew he had company. But it was when I went to the restroom that I met Steve. I was somewhat shocked when I opened the restroom door and saw a...
Earning My Education - The PartyI hated coming here but I needed the money. I always felt that nervous tension in my large stomach as I walked the 10 minute journey from my dorm to his place. It was hot today, the hottest all summer so I was sweating. Fuck it, he'd make me shower anyway, always did. I couldn't be unclean for him and his so called friends. Friends that wanted to fuck a 20 year old chub like he was meat.I got to the door and rang the bell. He made me wait at the door, same shit...
My first week at university,I went for a walk to explore the city. Leaving the colleges behind me I walked down to the river, following the path by the bank to the wilder parts. A couple was lying stretched out on the grass under the shade of one of the trees. He was on his back and she lay partly across him. They were locked in a passionate kiss. Instinctively I stopped to watch and saw one of her hands move down to his trousers where she stroked the bulge in his jeans. I couldn't believe what...
ExhibitionismWhen I was a senior in highschool I was the smart kid. The one with the best grades, proudest parents, and the most likely to succeed. The only thing I didn't succeed in was girls. I tried my best but I was always a little awkward around girls, especially attractive girls. When I was little my father passed away so I was raised by my mother most of my childhood and because of that, I lacked a father figure, someone to teach me the basics of sports, school, and women. My mother tried but she...
MILFRe-Education by Ruby My name is Anthony, and I had made a date with the one girl at the company that every man was afraid to approach. On the day of our fist date, I was a little nervous, after all it isn't everyday that you get the opportunity to go on a date with the head of the Psychology department. Not that it was out of character for me, but I was determined to be on my very best behavior. I held every door for her, allowed her to decide on every...
My College Education Hello everyone. This Belle again with a tale from a client. I will my client tell the tale. Greetings everybody. I am John MacDonald. That was my name at birth, but this tale deals about the time when I was Jackie MacDonald. It starts when I first entered college. I was an incoming freshman. I was taking all the mandatory courses for a freshman. I was enrolled in Business Administration for my major. I know that sounds lame, but it is true. It was the first...
Secondary Education Tyla Flowers [email protected] I am riding on the back of Matt Frawley's motorcycle. I press myself against him, and my breasts tingle as they tease his bulky, sweat stained back. We careen around curves on the Angeles Crest Highway, and we exit down a winding road into the National Forest. We roll to a halt in a gravel parking lot strewn with remnants of bikers' parties. Matt hides the bike in a stand of oaks. He puts his arm around my waist, and...
Secondary Education Tyla Flowers [email protected] Is This Nirvana? Chapter 11 I awaken with a shudder. A fractured ray of sunlight pierces the crack between a pair threadbare quilts which have been hung as an makeshift curtain. From outside I hear the clamor of banda piped through the tinny speakers of a catering truck. A hot breeze wafts a rancid flume of stale cooking oil, jalapeno and stewed pork. I feel nauseous, and choke back a heave. I have mind-splitting...
Orientation The dark, expensive car drove away from Taryn Shimone and left her looking after it with large, wistful eyes, a frightened and lonely gaze that seemed to grow more intense as the car slowly faded from sight down a country road that seemed impossibly long and straight. She sighed, drawing in a deep, slightly quavering breath and turned ninety degrees to her right to face the long, tall brick wall, a wall that, like the road, seemed to stretch impossibly long to the horizon. Behind...
I am an only child, and my parents were married 18 years before I made an appearance. I think they figured they would never have children. Needless to say, I was a daddy's girl, through and through. My mother was a hard woman to love, and even harder to live with. She had a vicious temper and tended to self-medicate with alcohol a bit too much. My father, on the other hand, could do no wrong, in my eyes. When I was five, my dad changed jobs for health reasons, and his new job required...
MasturbationSadie's Education Sadie licked the last of Miss Maple's envelopes. "Are you done, dear." MissMaple, a six foot two Jamaican woman and Sadie's typing teacher asked her. "Yes,Miss Maple. I really appreciate you giving me the work." Sadie said gratefully.Money was tight, and she didn't want to work part-time and screw up her businesscollege scholarship. Miss Maple had never seemed the sympathetic sort, andwas a tough critic of her students, once embarrassing Sadie in front of theclass by...
The fall season in the mountains offers wonderful scenery and a feeling of being alive, vibrant, and colorful. Living in near vicinity to such grandeur, one can possibly become spoiled to what nature brings to a mountain region, so, visiting particular locations every now and then is essential to keep that feeling of life fresh in our mind. Having attended a University located within such a region, I was invited to the yearly Homecoming festivities every October. I hadn’t gone to any since the...
IncestPulling at the Red Thread of Fate - Chapter 7 - A Higher Education After my 'date' with Mike, I'd be lying if I said it was still difficult being Ally. The next week definitely went by much easier than the first, although not without some hiccups. I was always an early riser and I didn't think much of barging into Mike's room to wake him up. We'd often go on morning runs together and being a heavy sleeper, I usually had to drag Mike out of bed in order to wake him up. Perhaps I...
"Slowly, Manish," Shirlyn murmured. "Don't be in such a rush!" "I can't help it!" "You must try! How else will you learn? I can't teach you if you don't try! Okay, are you ready now?" "Yes." "Good. Now ... easy does it ... put it in slowly ... mm, yes ... ohhh yes ... that's it ... oh that feels so good, Manish! Yes! That's wonderful! Now ... push it in deeper ... yes! Oh ma yes! That's it! C'mon ... deeper ... shove it in, Manish ... as deep as you can ... Ohhhhhh uhhh...
Katie, a fourteen-year-old sophomore in high school, was the perfect student. She had nothing but perfect grades since the fourth grade, and although very smart, she was ignorant when it came to sex. Oh she learned in her sex-ed class long ago just how and where babies came from, but the joys and pleasure of sex were never discussed. Since she had attended private, and very expensive all girl schools since first grade, she had little or no contact with boys her age and even the street...
Soon the kids were up and awake. Everyone gathered in the kitchen for breakfast. Jim decided he wanted eggs, bacon, and toast. What he got was definitely different than he expected. The eggs were not from chickens. That was certain. The bacon tasted about normal, but the toast was to kill for. Jim could never remember tasting dark bread, or any bread, with so much flavor. "Well, we are going to have to get that replicator reprogrammed with some of our food, at least for the eggs," Jim...