Bank Heist
- 4 years ago
- 27
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It is quite possible that Mirella’s sense of reality has become somewhat warped as a result of watching too many James Bond movies – or watching them too many times. She owned tapes of every movie ever made and watched them constantly.
Needless to say, those were her favorite films. There was, however, one aspect which got up her nose. The female agents who were sent by James Bond’s enemies to destroy him, always succumbed to his charm. Those highly-trained, cold-blooded killing machines fell in love with James Bond and ended up abandoning their mission, betraying their cause or their country, disobeying their boss and thus damaging their career prospects.
For Mirella, this was a smear on the professionalism of female agents. She saw it as her role to set the record straight. She would be the female secret agent who would not be swayed by good looks and smooth talk. Mirella saw herself as the one who would bring the undefeated record of James Bond to an end.
She had already selected her undercover name and imagined the impact it would have when she handed over her business card reading
Vagina A. Plenty
Secret Agent
But then she realized that secret agents hardly handed out business cards stating their profession. However, they said things like ‘The name is Bond, James Bond’, so she pictured herself saying ‘The name is Vagina, Vagina A. Plenty’. She didn’t agree with people who said that this name was too obvious, both as far as it’s single entendre was concerned, and for being too closely inspired by the character Pussy Galore. Besides, most people she knew had no idea what vagina meant. They used other words. Yes, pussy was amongst them, but it wasn’t the word the majority of them would use. A complete stranger whom she once asked what he thought of when he heard the word ‘vagina’ replied ‘Would that be North Vagina or South Vagina?’
Another guy, one who had read loads of books, suggested she’d call herself Fay Latio. She had to look long and hard in the dictionary before she found what he meant. What use was a name if it took a cunning linguist to figure out what it means? Besides, she didn’t want anybody to think she was just another cock sucker.
For the time being she was still working under her real name, Mirella Giovanna Castiglione, a name which betrayed her Italian roots. What she had inherited from her Italian ancestors was the full, dark hair which contrasted so distinctly with her alabaster skin. She was proud of her black hair which she wore long and full enough to cover her breasts completely when she looked at herself in the mirror. She spent hours brushing it so that it would be absolutely straight, with no unruly curls disturbing the picture, but she admitted that her hair didn’t have the silky shine of that of the Thai girls she had once worked with during a short spell as a night club hostess.
She envied those girls for their smooth, shiny hair. But that was all she liked about them. Other than that she found them too submissive, too slavish almost. They would giggle when a customer put his paws on their tits and ass and say ‘You very naughty man’. Mirella, on the other hand, didn’t think it was part of her job to let the customer feel her up.
The job was about smiling a lot, being friendly and making the punter believe that he had a chance of bedding her. It was about getting him to order drinks and then some more drinks and, when he had spent more than he could afford, move on to the next one. So, when one evening an insistent customer grabbed her breasts, she removed his hand, first firmly but not without gentleness, then more forcefully and finally, when his hand returned for a third attempt, Mirella said, ‘Listen buster, if you don’t keep your mitts off my tits I’ll bust your balls’.
That was the end of her career as a hostess. The ‘little shit’, as Mirella called him, had the nerve to complain to the manager and Mirella had to go. Threatening a customer was just not acceptable. The rule book stated clearly that the hostess had to remain calm and friendly under all circumstances. Only in extreme cases could she call on the security staff who would remove the offender from the premises. But the girls were advised not to call the bouncers too often, that could give the joint a bad rep.
Mirella wasn’t worried about losing that job. It had never been intended as a carrier. It was just another step in her study of male weakness. The next day she walked into the offices of Walker, Taylor and Sons, one of the most reputable firms of private investigators in town, and told them that she was available to join their staff.
They liked the bare-faced boldness with which she confessed that she didn’t have any experience in this field, her determination to achieve what she had set out to achieve and her willingness to do whatever necessary to get what she wanted, something Jim Taylor Jr. experienced on his own flesh. They called her ‘goal-oriented’. She would have said it was her determination to survive.
—–
The part of town where Mirella grew up was considered a rough area. Concerned mothers would keep their daughters indoors for fear that something might happen to them. But Mirella used to hang out with the boys, joining them in their rough games and becoming almost accepted as an equal.
In those days, the scarcity of real estate and the resulting gentrification of areas which had previously been left to decay had not yet reached her part of town. There were plenty of empty warehouses and abandoned factory buildings which were used by shady elements to hide from the police. The children, oblivious to the subtleties of the law, found those derelict buildings an ideal place to hide from the scrutinizing eyes of the adults and to experience some adventures. They were a far cry from today’s youth who seem to know adventure only from video games. It was in the shell of an abandoned sawmill that Mirella had her first smoke – and later her first kiss.
It was there that the kids re-enacted the key scenes of the movies they used to watch on Sunday afternoon. More often then not, these films featured a female beauty who fell into the hands of the baddies – be they a bunch of savage Indians or a gang of marauding bandits – only to be rescued by the handsome hero in the end. Mirella was inevitably called upon to play the beautiful heroine in scenes which involved her being thrown to the ground with a baddy lying on top of her, having her clothes torn off and being kissed against her will. The boys took turns in being the bad guy and the same scene was repeated several times with slight variations. There wasn’t much interest in the role of the hero because all the good guy got in the end was a hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek. Mirella reasoned that if famous Hollywood actresses let this be done to them, why shouldn’t she?
Mirella’s mother didn’t particularly care who she spent her free time with or what she got up to, but she got furious every time Mirella came home with torn and dirty clothes. So Mirella decided to take them off. She established herself in a room of the old factory which probably used to serve as an office and charged an entrance fee – after all, a girl needs some money for clothes and smokes – for letting the boys watch her undress.
Later, when her breasts had fully developed and hair had grown on her pubic mound, she charged extra for letting them touch her. Even later, when the boys had come to understand that the hard rods between their legs were made to be inserted into the slit between hers, and demanded more than she was willing to sell, she closed down her first ever business venture, saying ‘I’m no whore’.
A few of the boys tried to take by force what they thought belonged rightfully to them, but she saw them off without hesitation. A short, sharp blow of her knee, aimed with precision between his legs had the attacker rolling on the floor, screaming in agony and clutching his testicles with his hand
s. She only had to do this twice, then word got around that she wasn’t really worth the trouble and the boys left her in peace.
Other business ventures were to follow, the most profitable one was selling counterfeit designer clothes and accessories in the neighborhood. Mirella organized small gatherings and put on fashion shows where she paraded in the clothes she offered for sale. She looked so beautiful in those clothes, the women bought because they wanted to look like her and the men bought because they wanted their wives or girlfriends to look like Mirella. When they eventually put on the clothes and looked at themselves in the mirror, they saw that nothing much had changed.
They had forgotten that it was Mirella who made the clothes look attractive, not the clothes who made Mirella look good. In fact, Mirella had developed into such a beautiful young lady she could make sack cloth look fantastic. A figure like hers looked ravishing just wrapped in a sheet. To tell the truth, the fewer clothes she wore, the more attractive she looked. But the days when she’d take off her clothes for everybody’s gratification had long gone.
The one who eventually got to see her in all her naked glory was a young man who called himself Rocky because he thought that name combined well with the tough-guy image he tried to create for himself. He had done a short spell of boxing but had given it up before the sport could leave its marks on his handsome face. Mirella fell for his broad muscular shoulders and matching chest. He was a man she could submit to without feeling she had sold herself too cheaply. Any remaining resistance melted away when he put his strong arms around her, when he kissed her, lifted her up like a box of matches and carried her to his bed. He drove her crazy when he thrust his hard cock into her cunt again and again and she bit her lips in order not to scream when her orgasm took control of her body.
After a few weeks of what seemed like non-stop fucking, only interrupted by the need to eat, to get some sleep and to earn a little money, Rocky suggested she was fucking so well, she could turn pro and he would be her manager. Nothing sleazy, of course, he would take care of that. Only first class VIP customers. She would be picked up by chauffeur-driven limousines and taken to five-star hotels, she would probably earn generous tips on top of her sizable fee.
Mirella’s entire body shook when she realized he wasn’t joking. She said ‘I’m no whore’. But spitting out these words didn’t diminish the rage she was feeling and the words didn’t get through to Rocky who babbled on about the easy life they would be leading, the fast cars they would drive, the expensive clothes they would wear, the exotic places they would travel to.
‘I’m nobody’s fucking whore,’ she said quite a bit louder and angrier than the first time. But even this couldn’t make her anger recede and Rocky continued to try to convince her that there was nothing wrong with being a prostitute. She couldn’t cut the flow of words from his mouth, so she decided to cut him. She slashed him repeatedly with his own flick-knife, the one he always carried on him. His injuries weren’t life-threatening, but serious enough for him to never want to come near her again. Enough for no pretty girl ever to want to kiss his scar-marked face.
The idea of letting anyone who had enough money to pay for it fuck her, horrified Mirella. She wasn’t on a mission to eradicate prostitution from the face of the earth – if others wanted to do it, that was their choice. She was also realistic enough to know that people like her had to sell themselves sometimes to get what they wanted, she just couldn’t see herself doing it professionally, on a regular basis.
—–
Mirella felt that her experiences had hardened her enough not to fall for the sweet talk of any man and as a first step to joining the secret service she wanted to become a private investigator. Walker, Taylor and Sons considered her application carefully and offered her a job as a trainee.
Something that Mirella didn’t know and most members of the public aren’t immediately aware of is that firms of private investigators often have two distinct lines of business. There is the official activity which most people are familiar with because it is frequently portrayed in films and television programs. It involves spying on unfaithful husbands or wives and providing evidence of their trespasses, searching for missing persons or finding the true responsible for a crime on behalf of friends or relatives of a wrongfully accused.
Even in the conduct of these activities investigators sometimes crossed that fine line between the legal exercise of their profession and the infringement of other citizens’ rights by entering premises without permission, obtaining information under false pretenses or putting pressure on people who were – for whatever reason – reluctant to talk. But as these excesses were frequently shown in fiction as necessary in the pursuit of a higher goal, breaking the law became part of the normal profile of a private investigator, just as lying to their people about the imminent threat posed by foreign nations was part of the profile of a President or Prime Minister.
The second, unofficial line of business, which Walker, Taylor and Sons called ‘Covert Operations’, lay almost exclusively on the other side of that line which divides legal from illegal activities. There was no longer any pretence of seeing that justice be done or working for the common good. Covert Operations undertook missions on behalf of individuals or corporations which served exclusively their interests and to hell with justice.
This might involve finding out about the acquisition plans of an industry giant, because the takeover of a smaller competitor usually happened at a price significantly above that at which the shares changed hands before the takeover, and anyone purchasing such shares, say a week before the official announcement, was ensured of making a sizable profit in the process. Or it might involve finding out the exact composition of a new product to allow a competitor to launch his version of that product simultaneously. Finally, there were the cases where an eager newcomer to a market needed to be persuaded to reduce his efforts to increase his market share, efforts which could only serve to introduce turbulence into an otherwise settled market.
Walker, Taylor and Sons felt that Mirella, being such an attractive female and having demonstrated determination and the ability to take some unconventional causes of action, even if that meant breaking a few rules, was particularly suited for Covert Operations. It was Jim Taylor Jr. who broke the news to her. Mirella was pleasantly surprised that the job title of ‘trainee’ wasn’t just a euphemism for assigning her to menial tasks. They were actually going to put her through an intensive training program where she would learn all the required skills.
When Mirella arrived at the appointed room for her first day of training, there were already several men and two women sitting around a large table. The only person she had met before was Jim Taylor Jr. and she assumed that all the others were trainees, just like her. She was quite surprised to hear that everybody in the room was a tutor, coach or advisor on a specific aspect of her new job and that all of them were here to train her and only her.
Jim Taylor Jr. explained that she would normally be trained by one or two Agents at a time, he had just called everybody together for the first session to give her a chance to meet them. Other Agents would be called to cover specific areas as the need arose.
The purpose of the first session was to give her an overview of how Covert Operations worked and to outline the overall training program. He – simply called ‘the Boss’ by most Agents, but Mirella could also address him as Jim Jr. or simply JJ – was her main coach and responsible for the finished product. He would accompany
her through all the steps of the training to monitor her progress and would later brief her on each assignment. Then he introduced the other people in the room.
There were Agent Bob, Agent Frank, Agents Sue and Trish, Agent Steve and Agent Clive, and that was exactly how she had to address them, never just by their name, but always with the word Agent in front, while she, until she became an Agent herself, would be called simply Mirella by everybody. Each of these Agents had been called because they would contribute with their special area of knowledge to Mirella’s training.
Next, Jim Jr. proceeded to clarify some of the most frequently used terms. Mirella was being trained for ‘front office duty’, which meant that she was going to be in direct contact with the informants. ‘Informant’ was the person who supplied, usually without knowing it, the information their sponsor wanted. ‘Sponsor’, finally, was the person or organization who had contracted Walker, Taylor and Sons for a particular service, in other words, the one who paid everybody’s salary. Needless to say, the Agents were never told who the sponsor for their assignment was.
Before each assignment, there would be a detailed briefing to tell her what exactly the sponsor was after. She would also get all the information they had collected about the informant, his habits, his lifestyle, etc. so they could decide on the best strategy for achieving their goal.
The assignment itself consisted of three phases: Approach, Execution and Disengagement. Her training would cover each of these phases in great detail, but to clarify one thing up front: Approach did not mean that Mirella would take the initiative to make contact with the informant. She would simply create the opportunity for the informant to approach her. In this respect, Mirella, being such an attractive female and most informants being male, had a distinct advantage. Agents Sue and Trish would coach her on approach strategies and techniques. Execution simply meant getting hold of the information and once that had been achieved, Mirella would have to find a way of terminating the contact without the informant becoming suspicious. This was what Disengagement was about.
When Mirella asked whether all the people in the room were part of Covert Operations, Jim Jr. told her that the information she requested wasn’t part of her training program. She understood immediately: he told her this was none of her business. But as she had brought up the subject, this would be a good point to tell her a few basic safety guidelines.
Although most informants were completely unaware that they were being tricked into supplying important confidential information, it could not be ruled out that in some cases they might become suspicious or even try to outsmart the Agent. Because of this risk, there were a few basic guidelines on how Mirella could protect herself and other Agents against possible enemies. Most of these rules were almost common sense and applied to anyone, not just to Agents.
Rule number one dealt with caution against being double-crossed. It meant never to put oneself in a position where one was at the mercy of the informant and would be unable to escape from a possible attack. A special case of this rule dealt with drinks. Never accept a drink if you haven’t seen it being poured, and even if you have seen it, only accept it if your host pours his drink from the same bottle.
Rule number two dealt with concealing one’s real identity. Agents had to keep their real identity secret, even to casual friends and acquaintances. For each assignment they were given a specific identity as part of the briefing which would include name and profession of parents, schools attended, job history, places where they had lived, etc. Some assignments would require them to move into another apartment which would be arranged for this particular purpose.
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The Artist Studio It was a cool damp morning, the mist clinging to the streets like a heavy blanket of soggy fleece. I was hurrying down the street, as it would not make a good impression to be late the first day. I had signed up at a local art studio for free art lessons, and this being the first day, of course I had slept in. Bus was late, and the crowded streets, full of slow shuffling pedestrians was not helping at all in my effort to be on time. Finally getting to the small...
I was trying to imagine what his dick looked like. Was it one of those that was long and thin? Or perhaps short and fat? Or perhaps long and fat? Was it circumcised or not? I wondered if it was wrinkled, the way it was sitting inside his bathing suit. Art, the model, had been posing in front of our art class for nearly an hour, and I had finished drawing his face and chest. I was working my way down, and for some strange reason I always had the most problem with legs. Both mens' and...
Hi friend.. Nikunj here with one more new story. This story is of Arti. Now she is 20 with very white complexing and good nice 34b boobs. She had a nice ass .If anyone see’s her can say she is a imported boomb.Now in hindi.Arti ka abb 20th bithday that.. Uske 2 bhai the. Dono bade. Uski mummy nahi thi.Uske daddy hi uske liye sub kuch the. Wo uske daddy ka sab kuch kaha manti thi.Usko uske dono bahiyo par gharv tha. Dono gym jakar apni achi Health banali thi. Uske ek Bhai ka namm tha Raju aur...
He looked at the 1952 Willys Jeep, 4wheel drive station wagon. It was a classic right from an African safari operator. First of all, he could have bought one cheaper in the United States if he had added the shipping cost into the equation. Yes, Artie thought, but it wouldn’t have the provenance of the monster which sat outside his garage. It looked as though all those years working in his father’s auto repair shop might just pay off after all. The thought of those days usually made him sad,...
“I stole one of your paintings, Artie,” confessed Mavis as she looped a hand through my arm. We’d started the day with her as my model for a new composition. I guess I had ulterior motives. I wanted Morgan to experience prolonged eye contact with Mavis. The two had been getting along incredibly well, but both Annette and I had held Mavis’s eyes for an hour or more and the effect had been profound. I’d done the same with both Annette and with Morgan, but I wanted this last loop closed. I’d...
As I step into the art room at my school my nose is assaulted by the foul smell of sulfur, “Oh, what the hell is that?” One of the more annoying kids in my class says pinching his nose. The art teacher, Mr. Hart walks up to the front of the classroom, “Sorry about the smell the janitors can’t figure out what it is, anybody who wants to can go somewhere else as long as you don’t disrupt any classes.” Most of the class, the ones who only took it because they thought it would be an easy A,...
After my divorce I moved back to a little town in Florida that I haven’t been to in about ten years. I was looking for a clean start on life again away from my ex who now lives a little over four hundred miles away. I think that will be far enough so that her and I won’t run into each other occasionally. By the way, my name is Peter, I am sixty years old, five foot six inches tall, salt and pepper hair, about fifty pounds overweight and have a sexual appetite greater then what I did when...
Art, part two. Ch. 09 Dr. Lisa and Art find a possible new beginning for him. Suddenly Heidi said, ‘Well hello ‘Lees’, you’re late.’ Lisa from somewhere behind me said, ‘It doesn’t look like I was missed. Heidi, you and I need to talk.’ When I sat up the two women were looking at me, so I said, ‘OK, I’m out of here.’ What else was there for me to say? Then it dawned on me I was still naked, ‘Heidi, where are my clothes?’ ‘They’re up in my workshop. Grab one of my large T-shirts in the top...
Art, part two. Ch. 10 Art has a frightening experience. Our next stop was a hair salon where apparently they had both male and female customers. A majority of the customers and attendant’s were little people. I don’t see the connection between height and hair, but maybe it’s just a matter of being more comfortable among their own. Lisa must have called ahead, because we’re led immediately to an open chair. Lisa went into a discussion about what she wanted for me and I was left out until the...
bisexual - mfm - anal - bottom bitch - pantiesDavid LaValle was the type of guy that everyone gravitated to. Handsome, out going, talented, confident, sexy. Not macho sexy, just good looking soft-spoken, mysterious sexy. Our sophomore year at college in Vancouver we ended up in art class together. For all his magnetism he gravitated to me. He was a wiz at art & drawing; I struggled. He could whip out drawing after effortless drawing while my efforts were slow, plodding &...
Well, here I am. Redder than a tomato. I'm getting stared at by the whole art class. Some are already doing portraits of me and others are waiting. Miss Arania, the art teacher wanted to do something totally crazyand different for this semester's art exhibit. A plan was hatched, we all agreed to stick to the plan and not backout. The whole class was excited. All the guys in class got together. we lined up and drew straws from a can. Unfourtunately, I lost. There was some cheering fighting...
School started Monday and I made it out the door on time. That was partly because Annette offered to drive. It was okay for me to be late—I didn’t care—but, like with Fay, I wouldn’t make Annette late. People noticed us. We held hands as we walked from the parking lot to the school and she gave me a soft kiss before we went inside. Inside the school, of course, there was no kissing and no hand-holding. People still looked at us as we found our lockers. My face was hot. “It’s too bad we don’t...
I didn’t get up to paint. How could I even consider leaving Annette alone in my bed? I was vaguely aware of Dad peeking in and quietly closing the door in the morning. I’d made sure we had a sheet and blanket over us. I just stared at the treasure in my arms. “Was my bare butt sticking out when your dad looked in?” Annette whispered. “No, my Lady. I made sure it was covered.” “You could uncover it now, if you want.” We pushed the blanket down and lay naked in each other’s arms. I was hard...
My session with Dee was as close to the opposite of my session with Susan as we could get. We went to Kendra’s room after our last class and she was dancing around like she had to go to the bathroom. I let Kendra get her ready while I had my back turned. Dee had taken off her bra and hid it so I wouldn’t see her underwear. Go figure. Then she’d pulled her t-shirt up over her right shoulder, but kept it pulled down over her left breast so tightly that it was still tucked into her jeans. When I...
Martine By: Doctor Wankenstein Martine Back in 1978 I was a very innocent lad, really, not that I'dadmit it. I'd had a few girlfriends, at school, one for 18 months 1973-5, the lovely Debbie, but this was snogging and boobs only, and one little feel of her pussy ever,(Debbie to be revisited in "After So Long" in 2001) and including just one sha9, Sara at 15, then one "adult" relationship at 18, lasting six months in the heady summer of '76, with a 19 year old mother, Sue, who provided sha9s #2...
Martine By: Doctor Wankenstein Martine Back in 1978 I was a very innocent lad, really, not that I'dadmit it. I'd had a few girlfriends, at school, one for 18 months 1973-5, the lovely Debbie, but this was snogging and boobs only, and one little feel of her pussy ever,(Debbie to be revisited in "After So Long" in 2001) and including just one sha9, Sara at 15, then one "adult" relationship at 18, lasting six months in the heady summer of '76, with a 19 year old mother, Sue, who provided sha9s #2...
Ye kahani tab ki hai jab me 12th me padta tha. Meri behan arti jo ki mujhse 2 saal badi the aur jawan husn ki mallika thi. Height 5.5, aur ras bhare chuchu. Jinhe dekh kar log palat palat kar dekhte the. Main kafi porn aur sex stories padne ka shokeen tha. Jese jese meri tharak badi mujhe arti me behan kam aur ek jawan aurat jyada najar ane lagi jesse main apne jism ki pyas bujhane k plan banane laga. Arti thoda khule vicharo wali ladki the. Use movies dekhna naye gaane sunna pasand tha. Toh...
Mike had never thought of art galleries as a place to meet women. Hell, Mike thought about art galleries as little as possible. The Vallejo/Frazetta exhibit at the Tucson Museum of Fine Arts was a rare exception to the rule. Mike enjoyed fantasy-oriented art, and Vallejo was his favorite artist. There would be paintings by other, lesser-known artists as well. Mike made plans to check out the exhibit. Mike wasn't really comfortable in the three-piece suit that he had dug out for the...
We had Monday and Tuesday classes Thanksgiving week. That meant Fay had only one day of class since she had no classes on Mondays. Annette kissed me at the door of Lib Arts and I went in to sit beside Kendra. We didn’t even hesitate anymore. If I got to class first, Kendra just walked over and sat beside me. If she was there, I sat beside her. And it wasn’t always in the same place. Other students in our class usually arrived after us and decided which seats to take if we were in ‘their’...
Hi, everybody, mai ek baat clear kar du, ye ek real stori hai , isme koi 8 ya 9 inch lamba organ nahi hai ya 45 min tak ka shot nahi hai, a pure Indian stori jo aapke dil ke karib lagegi, Mai prash It professional from Mumbai, meri marriage 2004 feb me sheetal se hue, hamari luv marriage thi, sheetal thodi chuuby gal hai, aur shayad isliye mai attract hua tha, hamara physical relation shadi ke 18 saal pehle se hi tha, uski bahot hi close friend aarti jo ek slim and perfect gal thi, uska looks...
Hey readers, this is Atul once again with a brand new incident. All my readers may recollect who Aarti is and I meet her in bus journey to Aurangabad during my office tour and had the discreet relationship with her and all my readers may recollect that she was divorcee and staying all alone in Mumbai after our relationship. We enjoyed the sex very much and she was also addicted to it. So, at last, she decided to get marry with a widow person, whose wife expired in a car accident and he do not...
The woman didn’t just enter the restaurant where I was having lunch, she swept into it, filling it with a sudden infusion of energy. She walked up to the table where the two ladies she was meeting had been sitting – she was fashionably late – greeted them warmly, then headed to the ladies room. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her as she walked by my table. She was probably around 40, a little taller than average with a trim, but curvy body that was well-displayed in a pair of tight blue jeans...
Dejeuner Sur L?Herbe Dejeuner Sur L?Herbe?I don?t understand, Monsieur Manet, why would you think that anything has happened to this young lady.? The gendarme was finding it difficult to make any sense of what the gentlemen was saying but you got all sorts here in Gennevilliers. They come from the city with their strange ideas. Across the Seine. These Parisians were all the same. The gendarme did what he could to encourage the gentleman to explain. Small children were dashing around...
'Sorry to bring you here before taking you to the apartment we've found for you, only I wanted to quickly introduce you to the girls. As soon as we're done I'm going to make you comfortable at your new residence, and let you have a nice sleep. Tomorrow you're invited to a barbecue at my house'. He was overwhelmed, both by her hospitality, and by the way she was allowing him into her life. He didn't know at that point just how involved he was to become with the women he was about to...
This is a fictional story about a threesome relationship. It is based on my fantasies about a show I watch in my language. All the characters are fictional and strictly above 19. I prefer stories with a plot that gets us involved in the story and leads to sex rather than stories with just wild sex. My stories are a bit lengthy and usually have everything like gay sex, lesbianism, threesomes, group sex, and mainly incest. Enjoy the story. You can give me feedback at . If you haven’t read the...
This is a fictional story about a man’s lust for his brother’s wife. It is based on my fantasies about a show I watch in my language. All the characters are fictional and strictly above 19. I prefer stories with a plot that gets us involved in the story and leads to sex rather than stories with just wild sex. My stories are a bit lengthy and usually have everything like gay sex, lesbianism, threesomes, group sex, and mainly incest. Enjoy the story. You can give me feedback at . If you haven’t...
IncestDeviant Art is arguably one of the most popular hentai sites on the planet, though they don’t actually market themselves as such. The online art community has been around for decades now, and has always been welcoming to all kinds of artists, from photographers and videographers to the fursuit-wearing deviates drawing up all that X-rated anime you’ve been shaking your dick at. It’s only natural that an art-based social network with “Deviant” in the title would pick up a whole lot of beautifully...
Hentai Porn SitesSTUART'S PSYCHOLOGIST "Take them down, Stuart...like the shameful little boy that you are!" Stuart couldn't believe Dr. Townsend was talking this way. And right in front of Moira, too. She looked horrified at Stuart's therapist, a muscular silver haired, pinstriped John Forsythe look-alike--yes, he looked very much like Forsythe's "Blake Carrington" character on Dynasty. ? Dr. Townsend had always intimidated Stuart a bit, from the first time he and Moira had gone for therapy at Dr. Townsend's...
This is a fictional story about sex with mother-in-law. It is based on my fantasies about a show I watch in my language. All the characters are fictional and strictly above 19. I prefer stories with a plot that gets us involved in the story and leads to sex rather than stories with just wild sex. My stories are a bit lengthy and usually have everything like gay sex, lesbianism, threesomes, group sex, and mainly incest. Enjoy the story. You can give me feedback at . If you haven’t read the...
Incest