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I’ve been living in New York for some time now, comfortably separated, working a bit too much – as a refuge, I suppose. Dating just seemed weird, and I stopped looking for companionship years ago, just happy to stick to my routines, politely accept the dates that my friends set up, and otherwise enjoy my solitude.

Then, out of the blue, I met HER, in the deep freeze of the coldest winter we’ve had in decades. What a crazy city this is.

As you know from the news, it has been horribly cold, and getting colder. So cold, in fact, that last week Mrs. Laurel Robinson, 45, of Scarsdale, New York, froze to death one night after getting locked out of her home while looking for her cat. Her husband had long ago been banished to a second bedroom because of his snoring, and didn’t realize she was outside until the next morning.

As the anchor on the local news intoned in an appropriately somber and deep voice, this tragic event turned a cold winter into a season of death. That night the temperature dropped to ten degrees overnight, and the next morning Ms. Robinson was found frozen in her backyard.

So you get the picture. A week ago this past Tuesday it was four degrees. As I left my apartment in Manhattan for the 30 minute walk to my office, gusting winds were stirring up the salt and ash that had been liberally spread on sidewalks to fend off slip-and-fall lawyers, much as garlic was once thought to deter vampires. Deter the bloodsuckers! I left at the usual hour, the wind stinging my eyes, my mouth half hidden by a scarf.

The last three or four weeks it has been so cold that I’ve been wearing whatever I want to the office – jeans, old brown shoes, a long wool coat like a western duster, collar turned up, and an Irish fisherman’s sweater that smells like a sheep. If I were a woman my colleagues would cattily hiss behind my back and say ‘She’s given up, poor dear, just LOOK at those shoes, it is so sad (cluck cluck), if she only TRIED a little bit…’ Instead, I imagine I come across as an insouciant Ralph Lauren-like executive of a certain means and age, with an accenting touch of grey at the ears. Though I could be wrong.

And so I trudged down Broadway, my eyes stinging, and as I walked my nose began to run – my sinuses have been hell for weeks. I was sniffing, wiping my eyes, and finally I couldn’t stand it anymore, I cleared my throat and spat.

Garlic may not truly ward off vampires, but other old adages are true. One should not spit into the wind. Yes, even me, for as you know I’m trumpet player – I have awesome lung volume, and could suck the air out of a Macy’s balloon float, or blow down the little piggies’ straw and twig houses, maybe even their brick house too if I huffed and puffed enough. If I were the more vulgar type, I might be dominating my age category in the Spitting Program International Tournament (SPIT) (50 and over, non smoker), riding from one venue in the Ozarks to another until I had no more room for trophy-spittoons on my mantle.

But you see, some folks have to learn the hard way. I was always the kid who, when the sign said ‘no this, that, or the other thing permitted’ would immediately do whatever was prohibited to see what would happen. I needed to know why, always.

Now some people don’t spit at all – they think it is gross. I guess it is a question of your circumstances and upbringing. The Japanese, who are forever spitting everywhere, think that our habit of expelling snot balls into hankies that we carefully fold and put back into our pockets is gross. They have a point.

Other people spit, but not on the crowded sidewalks of New York. If your aim is off by a few degrees you could hit somebody, and they might respond by beating you to death with their bare hands, a trash can, a newspaper box, or by pushing you into a careening taxi driven by a Egyptian emigrant who has never driven in ice and snow before. I myself have no reservations – under duress, I’m a spitter.

You might think I was being particularly dim, or something – I mean, everybody knows that you shouldn’t spit into the wind. I guess I wasn’t thinking, or the whole thing was too distracting – the cold, the grit in the air, my runny eyes. We all know that the reason we don’t spit into the wind is that, well, it comes back at us. But there’s more to this story. Much more.

The reason we don’t spit into the wind in winter when it is four degrees with a wind chill of twenty five below is not only because it comes back at us, but because it freezes so fast you can almost hear it, crackling faintly as physics and chemistry and other science stuff happens and the liquids you expelled at approximately 98.6 degrees return as an irregularly shaped, jagged little three dimensional polygon.

And so it did. It came back at me, right in my face. This is where you can say ‘Eww’,but it more or less bounced off of me, like hail and icy rain will.

I cursed and kept walking down the street, bumping into a few people who were off balance from the unaccustomed, poorly distributed weight of six layers of clothes. As I walked I felt my ears and cheeks start to burn from the cold, and thought about putting on my gloves, but I hate gloves.

I was about halfway to my office in the Financial District when a woman stopped in front of me, blocking my path, and said to me ‘Are you ok?’

I’m often stopped on the streets in New York. Three quarters of the people who stop me need directions, especially down here in the south part of Manhattan – the streets are built on old colonial footpaths, which were built on old Indian trails, which were built to track game along meandering streams long gone. It isn’t like midtown – a neat, ordered grid of numbered streets – it is very confusing.

I’m happy to help folks who stop me and ask for directions, and as far as the people who aren’t asking for directions – they are usually trying to hustle me. This is New York, after all.

I always try to decide as quickly as I can who is going to hustle me and who needs help. I’m in a pointless rush, like every other coffee guzzling, harried New Yorker. But even after having been stopped by people maybe a hundred times, I’ve never had anyone ask me if I was OK, even after too many drinks at my favorite sushi bar when they should have been asking.

I looked at her and wasn’t quite sure what was happening. She looked local, whatever that means – had a certain air, she looked like she was on her way to work – and I didn’t think she was going to hustle me. She had on a nice brown winter wool coat, a lovely pattered scarf, and a pair of pearl earrings that were probably real, judging by the fabric of her coat and scarf. ‘Was I alright’? What did she mean?

‘Excuse me?’ I wasn’t sure what else to say.

‘I asked if you were alright.’ She was looking right at me, and had the loveliest blue eyes set against pale skin. ‘You’re bleeding.’ With that she reached up, took off her brown leather gloves, and touched my face, ever so gently. ‘Right there. I’ll show you.’ She rummaged around for a second in her purse-thing, fished out a compact – that’s what you call them, right, those little round mirror things in cases – popped it open, and pointed it at me.

She was right. The icy kamikaze spitball from hell that I had created apparently had cut my face when the wind ricocheted it back at me. Back at ya’ kid! Blood had been dripping down my cheek for blocks, freezing about halfway down, my face too numb to feel it. I looked like an escapee from a Halloween horror house created by eight year old boys.

I was genuinely startled, and almost felt light headed – I’m not sure why, it wasn’t more than a small gouge in my face. At fifty four I’ve got more than my share of accumulated dings, scars, and healed-over wounds in places both visible and hidden, and I don’t give these types of mishaps a second thought.

I think what caused my momentary wooziness was the surprise of it all. I saw her loo
k at me with concern. ‘I have one of those wipes…’ and the next thing I knew she was handing me an antiseptic wipe.

We were standing in the middle of the street, and I suggested we get out of the pedestrian traffic, so we moved to the fence at the edge of the sidewalk, the fence that borders Trinity Church and the graveyard. I fumbled around – my hands were half cold and numb, my fingers not working too well – and then she started laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.

‘What?’

‘You’re just smearing it around!’ and she outright laughed. ‘Look, if you promise me you don’t have any blood-borne diseases, I’ll do it. Promise?’

She was looking in my eyes again, confident and comfortable, right at me.

‘No blood borne diseases, promise.’

She put her right glove back on – I’m not sure she totally trusted me – and pulled another wipe from the mini-dispenser. With the softest touch she daubed at my face. The alcohol stung for a moment and I probably flinched the tiniest bit.

She paused for a moment, looked at me again – ‘Is it ok?’ and I nodded. She pressed a bit more firmly, and finally, after a few moments of wiping studied my face, for longer than seemed necessary, honestly – and seemed satisfied. ‘Much better, see?’

I looked at myself in her compact, trying to move the tiny circle of mirror to get the right view. Indeed, no more little kid Halloween fright mask.

And that is when it got really weird. As I stood there I could not help myself – I felt my face grow warm and started to cry silently. First a tear welled up in my eye, and then another, and they started rolling down my face, the salt stinging the nick on my cheek all over again, and her blue eyes got big. ‘Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry!’

‘No, no, the opposite. Are you a doctor or a nurse or EMT or something?’

She smiled again. ‘No, that’s silly. I just wiped some blood off your face, I didn’t perform a hip transplant.’ But she still looked puzzled. ‘Why are you crying?’

And I don’t know why, but for once in my life I let down that guard, that protective armor I carry everywhere like a Roman shield. I didn’t want anyone other than her to hear my confession, and said it softly. ‘I’m crying because it has been so long since I was touched with such care and concern. Too long.’

And as I admitted this I felt the tears again, rolling down my chapped face in the cold and dripping off of my chin.

She just looked at me and cocked her head. I looked down for a second, embarrassed at the whole thing: my stupidity by challenging one of the most basic laws of nature, spitting into the wind! Embarrassed for having walked ten blocks or more with a blood-smeared face. And embarrassed for crying, and admitting to a stranger that I craved to be touched.

I felt as if I were naked, exposed, and it was uncomfortable and wanted it to end. ‘Listen, I can’t thank you enough. I’m sure you have to go to work – I do too, despite the way I’m dressed, I actually do have a job.’

Softly, somewhat tentatively, she said ‘You’re welcome. You know, people always say that kind of thing, like a cliché: ‘I can’t thank you enough.’ Actually, you could thank me ‘enough.’ You know how?’ It was now my turn to cock my head. ‘You could buy me lunch one day next week.’

That’s when I noticed, on her ungloved left hand, that she didn’t have a ring. Not one. No wedding ring, no engagement ring, no wedding-engage combo, no trick rings on the non-ring fingers to confuse me and other simple-minded men.

So we had lunch this past Monday. She’s separated, too, no kids – thought that’s complicated – and he’s in Florida – much older. Eventually the age thing became too much. He moved to Florida, Boca Raton, to bask in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico in his waning years. She said ‘Boca Raton – doesn’t that mean ‘the rat’s mouth’? Somehow I doubt that Walter’s coming back from the rat’s mouth. It seems to suit him.’ (Insert mischievous smile.)

She used to play piano and appreciates music, and speaks a little German. She’s a curator for a small fine arts museum, and her specialty is European furniture from the 16ththru 19th centuries. She’s travelled extensively over the years, sometimes to rough places hoping to uncover dusty family heirlooms and the like.

As we exchanged details over lunch she told me that she and Walter had a child, a daughter. Their daughter was killed ten years ago in a car accident at the age of sixteen when a classmate drunkenly crashed a car full of post-prom kids into a tree. The daughter lingered on life support for a week, an agonizing eternity where her mother was forced to question and eventually abandon her faith and hope.

It has been years since that happened, she told the story factually, without much emotion, but it was then I realized what I saw in her, what really touched me – there seemed to be a sadness in her that connected with my own. There was something deep, permanent, irrevocable in her, something hidden by the scars that time accretes on our soul, but beneath which lives the dulled sense memory of searing pain that can never be forgotten.

She came over just this past Tuesday night – the circumstances and logistics seemed to present themselves, a coincidence and an opportunity. It was so cold that we agreed we’d order Chinese food, a so-very-New York thing to do.

Candles flickered on the table in my apartment as the heat from the register struggled to keep us warm, and gently nudged the flames atop the wicks. The Empire State building literally shimmered on the horizon, the air so cold that the light from its tower danced and wavered as it sped through the subfreezing ether.

She wore a dress, a dress like a real woman, and when she turned away from me I could see underneath the fabric the garter stays that held up her stockings, as if they were beckoning me. When we sat on the couch after dinner she asked me to put my arm around her, to warm her, she said.

Afterwards, hours later, we curled in bed and talked, almost all night, the rug burns on my knees a mark of our pleasure, the yin and yang like the sweet and sour soup we shared for dinner. I want to describe for you the spectacular sex, how her moans echoed in my ears and were seared into my memory, burying my aches, how the cold and her passion made the points on her chest swell like her body was reaching out to me, how I erupted in a fit of pent-up need and desire and made rivers run, how her heart was pounding after she came, like a Valentine’s Day cartoon on a sproingy bouncy spring. But there I go again, like a man, getting into the biomechanics of it all.

Sometime around two a.m. I lit the last taper candle in the apartment and put another blanket on the bed, crawling back under the covers. She rested her head against my scarred chest and ran her fingers thru the graying curly hair that covers me to my neck. As she moved her fingers aimlessly over my chest, she whispered so low I could barely hear her – ‘I needed you to touch me as much as you needed me to touch you.’ My search is over.

Of course, my dear reader, none of this is true – I just wish it were. Well, almost none of it is true. The only true part is about Mrs. Robinson, who after a couple of drinks too many wandered out to look for her cat and died in the cold, though she never really felt a thing. Because that is how life really is – or is it?

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This story is for the “Beyond the Wall of Sleep” Gothic Horror invitational. It is a completely different style and type of story for me and I learned a great deal from trying this. Thanks to blackrandi for the invite; these events push me out of my comfort zone and I learn a lot from them. Thanks to blackrandi, Sbrooks, Bebop03, Piper and stev2244 for the beta reads and editing. MattBlackUK gave me the final setting for the story. This would be unreadable without all of them. There are others...

3 years ago
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Bra Shopping With Uncle

by Lubrican Chrissy was happy to be spending the summer with her Uncle Bob. He was her favorite Uncle because he was always so happy to see her. He was nice, and funny and handsome too. Whenever he looked at her and gave her his special hugs, she always felt so special. When her mother had decided to go to Europe with her father to set up the new branch of his company, Chrissy had begged to be allowed to stay in the United States. Her father had estimated that it would take a year to...

2 years ago
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My elder sister

Hi friends my name is sumit .age 18 years .me baroda me apane mummy papa ke sath rahata hoo 10th ki exam dene ke bad me aise hi apane dosto ke sath internet cafe jane laga.me apane ek friend nikhil ke sath ek comp share karta tha nikhil mere se internet ke bare me jyada janta tha.to jyada karke wahi site surf karata tha.ek din me internet cafe der se pahoocha to dekha nikhil comp pe betha hoowa tha aur indian sex stories read kar raha tha.mene dekha woh jyada karke brother sister ki stories...

2 years ago
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Ohne Houmlschen

Was ich gestern in einem Frauenforum gelesen habe hat mich wirklich sehr erfreut. Nun weis ich endlich dass ich gar nicht alleine mit meiner Neigung bin in den Sommermonaten auf das Höschen zu verzichten, denn recht viele Frauen berichten darüber dass sie an warmen Sommertagen unter ihrem Rock oder Kleid kein Höschen tragen. Einige von ihnen finden es sogar sehr aufregend es darauf anzulegen das ihnen fremde Männer unter die Kleidung schauen können, da werden schon mal provokant die Schenkel...

1 year ago
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Post Amateur Dramatics

Even though she’s married, Viv was always going to be promiscuous and Ted her husband knew that from the start, but he loved that. Soon after they got married she told me he liked to watch her with other men, I was more than shocked about that at the time; of course now I know it’s a common desire for lots of men. Of course at the time I had no idea that after my sister, Viv was my own husband’s most frequent fuck buddy. At school Viv was in the drama club, mostly Shakespeare and more at...

3 years ago
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One of the Girls Part 2 of 2

One of the Girls - Part 2 of 2 Belladonna As the next morning came, Alec felt that his stomach was in knots. Struggling to keep his food down, Alec finished eating half his meal before he went to get dressed in the outfit that Kristine and Nadine had left for him. It was not overly feminine. A passing eye would not think twice about a man sporting it. Under any scrutiny, however, it would be obvious that everything he was wearing was made for a woman's body. Alec pulled on his...

2 years ago
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Caring and Fucking

By: AWC Zoey brought Beverly back to the bed, lovingly putting her down and then maneuvering her towards the middle of the big round bed. So very gently he undid her shirt buttons and pushed it of her naked shoulders, exposing her very young, touching 21 curvy solid meat breasts decorated with the most perfect and erect nipples. The force of his bright black eyes was making Bev to tremble as he licked her lips and bent down to take her nipple in his mouth once again, licking and sucking them...

2 years ago
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Taking Stepdaghters Christian friend Samanth

Claire has been friends with Samantha, a Christian and a volleyball player, since elementary school. They have been in volleyball camp together every summer, on league teams together. I've seen Sam in volleyball shorts a million times, watched her bubble butt stretch those shorts from pancake flat to full round over the years. She has dark brown hair and eyes and pale skin, imaculately groomed. She wears the same outfit at least once a week religiously, it makes her feel pretty: v-neck red...

4 years ago
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First Taste Of Cock

When I was younger I would have never been curious about another man’s cock, but the older I got the more curious I became. I sometimes wonder if that was because by the time that I was in my late forties, I had done everything that a man and a woman can do together or with others, except crossing over to the other side. Now that I think back, perhaps, in fact, I was curious earlier in life but just didn’t realize the fact. I say this because I was always fascinated by watching a nice cock...

Bisexual
2 years ago
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WebYoung Kali Roses Sophia Lux Wrong Number Right Girl

Kali Roses waits on her living room couch, fidgeting nervously. She looks at the time on her phone and says to herself that he’s late. She hopes he’s actually going to come. After a moment, her doorbell rings. Kali springs up, takes a deep breath and runs to the door expectantly. She throws open the door, ready to greet her dream guy, but instead finds Sophia Lux! Kali is visibly surprised and disappointed. Oh, she was expecting someone else, Kali says. How can she help her?, she...

xmoviesforyou
3 years ago
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College Nights

The lounge music was slow and steady. A low murmur of talk filled the room. The gentle clink of glasses. My leg twitched nervously as I waited. Self-concious thoughts ran through my mind: How is my hair? Am I wearing the right dress? I had never had particularly high self-esteem, though Chris told me I was beautiful every day. Chris. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. Even the sound of his name sent butterflies through my stomach. My boyfriend since my sophomore year in high school,...

3 years ago
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Three Wishes

Jimmy Laughlin was a just regular kind of guy. There was nothing really remarkable about him. At six foot tall and 165 pounds with sandy-blonde hair and blue eyes he was good looking, but nothing spectacular. He wasn’t rich by any means – he worked hard to make a living. Jimmy was a ‘picker’, a person that goes from one swap meet, yard sale, or rummage sale to another buying things that he thought he could fix up, clean up, and resell for a profit. He was mechanically-inclined and pretty good...

1 year ago
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Scout jack off

Note : This story is completely fictional! In 9th-grade some guys already know whats going on with their sexuality and some guys have no clue. I was one of the boys who had no clue. At age 14, I was just beginning my major growth spurt. I had gained a lot of height and was fairly tall and lanky. The typical skinny kid. My voice had started to deepen and my cock had grown to over 5 inches. I had a small patch of brown pubes. I was a nice looking kid, not a jock, not really a geek, just a nice...

Gay
2 years ago
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Fourteen Day Program Ch 03

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a fantasy story of a wife who has volunteered to have her sexual inhibitions removed for her husband. This section could have been posted to the Anal section, but I felt it really belongs here, due to the process that took them here. In this chapter they continue to explore her new openness, including porn and anal sex. If this isn’t for you, feel free to move on to another story. If you’ve enjoyed the first two chapters, then welcome back. Chapter 3 Back on the...

4 years ago
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The Bag revised Mistress version

So. I expect that you’ve already read my pathetic husband’s version of the last few months. I’ve just read it – and as a result he is curled in the fetal position at my feet crying, maybe through remorse, but mostly because he has just sustained a reasonably brutal beating of his balls and cock, for being a LYING LITTLE SHIT! (He just received 3 more stamps from me on his bruised and unbelievably swollen member).Some of what he told you is undoubtedly true. He has for the last 9 months spent...

4 years ago
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Doodhwali

I was married to a rich Gujarati businessman in Pune. I wont describe more about him. During the monsoons i used to stay indoors and watch tv. The two servants used to cook and do other works. Today my husband got a phone call that his friend is dead under mysterious circumstances. He told me ‘i am going to Mumbai and back tomorrow’. I took bath and came out to see that outside there was heavy rainfall and those two idiots were nowhere nearby.I went upstairs and saw that both of them were...

2 years ago
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Fortune Cookie Revised Part 58

Fortune Cookie (Revised) - Part 58 It had been nearly 2 years since Joanne had helped win the National Hairdressing Championship. She had gone on to help them achieve 3rd place in the World Championships the following year. But for now, Joanne had other things on her mind. "Wake up lazy bones! You don't want to be late for your own wedding!" she said, waking Paula from her sleep. "What time is it?" yawned Paula. "8:00 in the morning. We've got a lot to do, including your hair,"...

5 years ago
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Caught With Sisters Best Friends Dirty Panti

I was always keen on one of sis's friends, in fact her very best friend. They did everything together. The were either shopping or gossiping about the guys they had a crush on. Sis and her friend both stood about 5'6" roughly 110 lbs each and had dark hair, beautiful skin and the nicest bodies. They were the hottest girls in the neighborhood. Anyone would expect each of them to be stuck up, self absorbed girls yet they were both really down to earth. I heard them refered to as old souls, they...

3 years ago
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Romantic Lunch With My Boyfriend

Hello people this is Palak here, this is the first time I am submitting a story on ISS so please forgive me if any errors are there in the story or grammar. I am currently working for an MNC in Bangalore. I am working in that company from 3 years. I am staying alone in a flat at Whitefield in Bangalore. I have a nice curvy body and I have nice round breasts and with a size of 34, 28, 30 My boobs have really become big thanks to the guy who I will mention below. I decided to post the story for...

4 years ago
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dad

I was typing away, answering the usual morning emails, trying to politely turn down unsolicited plot ideas that I "do not believe I can do justice to." You know the kind: "dear mr vargas I want u to rite me a story about me and my mama, like we r both left handed and ..." I was about to do the same with a rather nice request from the Edgewaters when I read closer. The happy couple were about to celebrate 25 years of married bliss. George wanted an erotic story to give his wife as the beginning...

3 years ago
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BBC caught me being kinky at the gym

I 'wanted' it to happen but really didn't think it could!!!!I was a 33 year old Single guy at the time. Having been months since I had been laid, my submissive side was starting to show through. I enjoyed 'pretending' when I was alone that I was a being forced to be a Sissy for BBC that would treat me like the true slut I wanted to be. I had a small but fun collection of toys & panty's that I frequently used, & the more I used, the more I craved, & bolder I became. I belonged...

2 years ago
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CherryPimps Athena Faris Scarlett Sage Athena8217s Delicious Pussy

Scarlett Sage is so eager to be able to fuck March 2020s Cherry Athena Faris with all of you watching. She loves licking and sucking on those beautiful firm tits with their pierced nipples that adds so much sensitivity to Athena. She loves that tongue working its magic all around her nipples. Athena wants to feel that all over her pussy though so wastes no time kissing all up and down Scarlett so they can get down to the hot naughty sweetness. Athena buries her face in that delicious sweet...

xmoviesforyou
3 years ago
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Nine Memorable DaysChapter 27 Three In A Bed

We walked into the house, and while my father went to check the answering machine my mother turned and held up her hand. She had Vikki on her right and Madeleine on her left. "Just you stop right there Justin Robertson." My mother faced me squarely, left hand on one hip and the index finger of her right hand wagging at me. "Now you told me all about how much you fantasised about Vikki here." She took my girlfriend's left hand, she was holding her supermarket uniform in her other hand,...

4 years ago
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The night we will never forget

My fiancé Aidan and I have this friend, his name is Jake and I have a pretty bad crush on him. He’s just moved over here from another country and he’s staying with us for a while until he gets on his feet. He’s been here three to four weeks now and each day my urge to have him is growing stronger by the day. I make my mind up and decide that tonight will be the night. I’m having a long hot shower and a shave, in all of the right places. I finish up, straighten my hair and put a little make-up...

4 years ago
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Wife gets even on cheating husband with gangbang

I guess I have always been a pussy hound, I always liked to spread myself about and when I got married I saw no reason to change, that was until my wife found out and decided to teach me a lesson!I had been at a local sports bar having a few beers with some buddies on Saturday afternoon and got home at about 6.00, to my surprise and joy I was met at the door by my wife and she was wearing the short short checkered mini skirt that didn't even cover her butt cheeks and a lacy push up bra that...

4 years ago
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A black bell boy

Los Angeles was pretty hoy on those summer days. I arrived to the airport flying from Savannah and I got a taxi, going directly to the hotel. The manager staff sensing my foul mood had me taken upstairs by one of the college bell boys. He was a young but athletic black male. He was very tall and with a nice built muscular frame. As we exited the elevator I got behind him. I watched him from behind admiring the way he swayed his round ass cheeks…My mood began to improve: I went from being tired...

4 years ago
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The Earls ManChapter 6

The three-day trip to London aboard a ship was interesting. Having made the overland trip from Lancaster to Edinburgh, most of my wives had never been on a ship before. Aside from a few queasy trips to the railing, they all enjoyed the trip. While the ship was still tying up at the dock, messengers were dispatched to inform the King of our arrival in London. By the time we debarked, carriages and a double column of cavalry awaited us. Appropriately wearing their fine dresses, the women were...

3 years ago
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Beckys Taken

TAKEN I had processed my last transaction of the morning, and hurried to my car parked in the underground parking deck several blocks from the office tower where I worked in an accounting firm.? I decided that I would treat myself to a long lunch after I made my daily bank deposit, and told my assistant not to expect me back anytime soon.? Smiling to myself, I was enjoying the warm sun on the late spring day.? I was glad to be out of my winter business suits, and felt particularly flirty...

2 years ago
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October Weekend

I’m squirmy and nervous all day at work on Friday, anticipating our first whole weekend together. It’s perfect, gorgeous, crisp, cool fall weather, just right for an October weekend in the woods, and I am so excited I can’t concentrate on my work at ALL. Finally, it’s time to leave, and I head out to the car to freshen up my makeup. (Yes, we are going to a cabin in the woods and yes, I am freshening up my makeup for the occasion! You can take the girl far away from the Sephora store, but you...

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