Art Of Being Samuel X free porn video

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After a long hard day at work, Stephen finally came home. Ah, the trials and tribulations of a Black man’s life in this world. Born in the town of Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti, and raised in the City of Brockton, Massachusetts, he never imagined he would find himself in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, of all places. The Confederation of Canada was definitely not high on his list of places where he thought he would end up. And yet, here he was. Driven out first from the island of Haiti then from the United States by the enemies of his kind and a series of unfortunate events.

Sighing, Stephen told himself to keep on trucking. For some reason, he had a target on his back. Always. And it wasn’t for the usual reasons. Unlike his ‘blood brothers’, he couldn’t say that he was eternally targeted because of his race. Or the fact that he was, well, technically bisexual, though his sexual experiences with either sex were limited at best. No, it wasn’t because of that or any other immediately recognizable factor. Rather, he was a victim of his own uniqueness. Fate chose him to deal with those without conscience. What psychologists call the Sociopaths. It was his lot in life. Buffy gets vampires. Mongooses get snakes. And he gets Sociopaths. Yay.

At last he lay on his bed, thinking about the events of the day. So many Sociopaths out there. First, there was his immediate supervisor at the security company where he worked, a French Canadian guy named Jack. Oh, and also his old roommate, this Haitian prick named Lentz. A lousy, mean-ass guy whom he never would have met if it hadn’t been for his conscienceless cousin Nicolas. Oh, yeah. Sociopaths plagued Stephen’s experience. There was absolutely no escape from them. And the funny thing was that only he knew what he was constantly surrounded by.

To other people, the Sociopaths often seemed like the most normal people they knew. Sometimes Stephen wondered if there were other people out there born with what he called The Gift. Not that it did him much good, really. Having the Gift meant being capable of detecting the most undetectable predators in the universe. Men and women born without conscience. Of course, like any true predators, they instinctively knew those capable of detecting them. They wouldn’t be predators if they couldn’t spot real threats to themselves. Pretenders always know the real thing, after all. And they hate it on sight. Sociopaths pretended to be normal, decent people. And loathed the only human being capable of seeing right through them. This marked him as their prey. And he was always outnumbered and always outgunned.

In his twenty six years upon the earth, Stephen seldom felt lucky. He didn’t feel at home among ordinary human beings. Their ways simply weren’t his ways. Human beings with their strange ways and customs. They pierced the ears of their daughters. They circumcised their sons and sometimes their daughters in the name of obscure customs and ancient religions. They tattooed their skins. Also, they slaughtered their own kind over ridiculous notions. Christians versus Muslims. Hindus against Islamists. Islamists against Pagans, Christians, Jews and basically anyone who isn’t an Islamist. Stephen couldn’t understand them. Why couldn’t they simply leave well enough alone?

Shaking his head, Stephen rolled on his king-sized bed. Posters of his favorite celebrities adorned his bedroom walls. Mahatma Gandhi. Jesus Christ. Martin Luther King. Malcolm X. Bob Marley. Christopher Reeve. Serena Williams. Barack Obama. Oprah Winfrey. Bruce Willis. Tatiana Ali. Nicolas Cage. Laila Ali. Michael Dudikoff. People whom he admired for different reasons. Something about what they accomplished and what they stood for actually inspired him. He was all for taking on overwhelming odds and not only surviving but also thriving. Events and people like that were an inspiration to him.

Stephen thought long and hard about the events of his life. Escaping from his cheerfully Sociopathic aunt Gabby and sister Alex in Brockton, Massachusetts. Coming to Ontario, Canada, in search of a better life. Brockton, the town where he spent half his life. Living the life of an undocumented immigrant because his parents left him with his aunt during summer vacation, when he was about to start high school. Living in that house with her for almost ten years was a nightmare. How he emerged out of that with his sanity intact was a miracle in itself. He thought he’d be free once he moved to Canada. The only country where an undocumented immigrant like him would be offered safe haven.

In the United States of America, while living the life of an undocumented immigrant, he did his best to stay out of trouble while also pursuing what he felt was his natural path. He graduated from Brockton Community High School with honors. With a little help from his parents in the island of Haiti, he attended Bay State College in downtown Boston and successfully studied Criminal Justice. He earned an Associate’s degree there. Something which would definitely come in handy once he moved to Canada and opted to continue with his education. He enrolled at Carleton University in the south end of metropolitan Ottawa, Ontario. To earn his bachelor’s degree in Criminology. One day, he told himself, he’d go to Law School.

Although Stephen had trouble admitting it to himself at first, he came to love Canada. How could he not love the country where he earned for himself those things which he never could have acquired as an undocumented immigrant in the vastness of America. A licence. A health card. Access to higher education. Yeah, his life definitely improved once he got to Canada. He felt independent…and free. Also, he was free of his Sociopathic aunt Gabby and his twisted sister Alex. Unfortunately, he wasn’t free of the Sociopaths. He could never be free of them. The same way a mongoose could never truly be free of snakes. Nature had a way of putting them together. Well, nature and cruel, sadistic human beings interested in blood sports. Looking at the sky outside the window of his apartment in the Vanier sector of Ottawa, he wondered if there was a higher power out there laughing at his fate.

In the beginning, he enthusiastically educated himself about the Sociopaths. It wasn’t enough that he had a natural aptitude for detecting them. He read up what many of the modern world’s foremost psychologists, criminologists and scientists had to say about those men and women born completely without conscience. He once heard them referred to as intra-species predators. Stephen taught himself about them, and began fighting them. Sometimes, he confronted them and let them know that he knew WHO and WHAT they were. Usually that surprised the hell out of them. Enough to give him a form of psychological momentum over them. Well, some of them. Others weren’t fazed by his ability to spot them. And they began hunting him. He was being hunted by numerous inhuman predators and there wasn’t much that he could do about it. He was trapped. His unique circumstances pretty much dictated so. Sooner or later they’d figure out who he was, where he lived, and they’d get him. Hell, his own sister and aunt were Sociopaths. Fortunately, they didn’t know he regularly went out to battle their kind.

Ultimately, he ended up on his own, in Ottawa of all places. Free from his aunt and sister. Free from a tragic past as an unwanted brat. Freed from the pariah-like status of the undocumented immigrant in America. Now he was studying Criminology at Carleton University. Surrounded by young men and women who had no idea what dangers lurked out there. Of course, there were just as many Sociopaths in the City of Ottawa as there were in the City of Boston, if not more so, percentage-wise. Yeah, it was an inescapable fact of his existence. Still, for a long time he denied what he was and his true calling. He dated young women, went to movies, joined a fraternity at school, volunteered to help people. He tried to lead as normal a life as possible.

Meanwhile, all around the world, the Sociopaths continued to do their thing. Sociopaths preyed on women in the aftermath of the 2010 Haiti Earthquake, a painful event which he watched from afar. Later, they continued to do terrible things around the world. In the aftermath of the Arab Spring, Sociopaths hijacked the revolution which swept Egypt, Libya, Turkey and Tunisia. Radical Islamists replaced dictators. And instigated massacres against non-Muslims, especially Christians living in the Middle East. Arab Christians in places like Egypt, Iran and other predominantly Muslim nations found themselves hunted like never before. Do ordinary men and women need Sociopaths to hate each other for various reasons? No. However, the job of the Sociopath is to pour oil over the proverbial flames.

In places like South Sudan, Nigeria and Egypt, Christians and Muslims fought one another. And placid Western governments closed their eyes to the carnage. Men and women living in the European Union, North America, Latin America and the Caribbean, parts of the world which were predominantly Christian, closed their eyes as their Christian brothers and Christian sisters in Arab countries were slaughtered like sheep by radical Islamists. All because of the Sociopaths revving up the radical Islamists. Watching the carnage on television or reading about it on the web, Stephen shook his head. Although he didn’t see himself as particularly religious, he considered himself a Christian. He respected the Muslim faith practiced by Somali and Arab friends of his at school. However, the thought of Christians being killed in Muslim lands for their beliefs irked him. Not for the first time he wondered if the world might be better off if everyone were atheist. Hmmm. That would be the day. Two billion Christians. One point something billion Muslims. Almost a billion Hindus. And a whole lot of other people following Paganism, Ancestor worship, New Age religions, Agnosticism and other faiths. Yeah, religion wasn’t going anywhere.

Stephen closed his eyes, his thoughts suddenly more personal. This past year, his life changed. While he lived under his aunt’s roof in Brockton, he was celibate. Absolutely no sex. When he came to Ottawa, he definitely made up for lost time. The local ladies were friendly. Really friendly. He enjoyed a good number of them. Unfortunately, he discovered that relationships weren’t his forte. He just wasn’t good at connecting with human beings. Not women, or men. Inside of him, something was missing. He simply was…different. Not that he looked it. He thought of all the people he helped. All the lives he saved. All the humanitarian campaigns he fought for. All the risks he often took on behalf of strangers. Surely all those things spoke of his humanity. And yet he was denied the most human thing of all. Love.

Lying in his bed, he noted that it was midnight and he still wasn’t asleep. He scanned the stars, wondering if he would ever find that special someone he could truly connect with. Walking through the streets of Cap-Haitien, haunting the streets of Boston and wandering through the streets of Ottawa, he saw lovebirds of all kinds. Men and women. Men and men. Women and women. Black, white, Hispanic, Arabian, Asian, Native, interracial and everything in between. Pretty much anything you could imagine. He saw them…and envied them. Sometimes he saw Sociopaths, these remorseless men and conscienceless women prowling about with their unsuspecting victims. Sociopaths couldn’t love, of that he was certain. They used people and discarded them, but not before latching onto their next target. He wasn’t like the Sociopaths, nor was he an ordinary human being. He was simply…whatever in hell he was. Alone. And unloved.

Big and tall, ruggedly handsome, smart as a whip. That’s how many have described him. In his time he joined fraternities, clubs, activities groups and social movements. Always seeking to find that which he called Kindred. Someone who could relate to him, and embrace him. Someone to love him and let him know that he wasn’t alone. He thought of all the wars being fought across the globe by Jews, Christians and Muslims. All because they thought their way of praising God was superior. All because of a few differences in their respective faiths. They focused so much on details that they missed the big picture. God is love. God is peace. If you’re a Muslim killing a Christian or a Jew, you’re offending God because you’re killing your brothers and sisters. If you’re a Christian who hates atheists, agnostics, Jews or Muslims, you’re doing your God a disservice. Hatred does not come from the Almighty. Only love does. How he wished he could have shared these pearls of wisdom with the Christians, Jews and Muslims.

In his heart of hearts, he knew that things were only going to get worse. The fools would continue to be the pawns of the Sociopaths. The Supreme Council which is the true power behind the King of Saudi Arabia is made up of Sociopaths. The Princes of the Vatican are Sociopaths. The United Nations leaders are Sociopaths. The warlords of Africa, the guerilla leaders of South America and the bigoted cops of urban America, they’re all Sociopaths. Men and women without conscience. Eternally dedicated to making the world worse. And someday, they’ll manipulate the humans into destroying each other. Unless they were stopped.

Stephen sighed, and silently told himself that tomorrow, he’d rejoin the good fight. Help the forces of good defeat the forces of evil. Well, it’s not like he had anything else to do. How he’d love to have a normal life. A wonderful woman to love and cherish. Sons and daughters to call his own. A house in the suburbs. A boring but occasionally rewarding job. Yeah, a normal life. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. He might as well fight the good fight. Hopefully, someday he’d pick a fight to remember against a force of true darkness. And at last, in the blissful oblivion of death, he would find peace. He looked forward to it.

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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...

4 years ago
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Art Class

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 &...

4 years ago
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Art Subject

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...

4 years ago
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Art SomethingChapter 5

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...

4 years ago
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Art SomethingChapter 10

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...

1 year ago
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Art ProjectChapter 9 Models

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...

2 years ago
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Martine

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...

2 years ago
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MARTINE

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...

1 year ago
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Arti Ki Chudai

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...

4 years ago
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Art Appreciation

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...

2 years ago
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Art ProjectChapter 4 Houseguest

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’...

3 years ago
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Aarti ki chaahat

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...

2 years ago
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Aarti Fucked Before Her Marriage

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...

4 years ago
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Art and Artists

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...

3 years ago
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Art For Arts Sake

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...

3 years ago
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Art Deco Part OneChapter 2

'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...

4 years ago
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Kartik And Deepa 8211 Part 2 An Erotic Threesome Relationship

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...

2 years ago
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Kartik And Deepa 8211 Part 3 Lust For His Brother8217s Wife

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...

Incest
1 year ago
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DeviantArt

Deviant 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...

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3 years ago
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STUARTS PSYCHOLOGIST

STUART'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...

4 years ago
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Kartik And Deepa 8211 Part 5 Hot Sex With Motherinlaw

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
4 years ago
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Art Part Two Ch 02

Art, part two. Ch. 02 Art and Suzanne get ‘comfortable’. When I looked up at her face she was giving me a wicked grin so it looked like it was time to ‘get comfortable’. She said, ‘Come over here and let me unbutton the back of that dress.’ She’s been dressing and undressing me since I started to wear young girl’s clothes. She says, ‘They never look right when you put them on and Maria complains that she’s tired of picking up after you when you take them off.’ There’s no way I’m going to...

2 years ago
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Art Part Two Ch 07

Art, part two. Ch. 07 Dr. Heidi shows Art how he can be one of her dolls. The room Heidi led me into was in the front of the house and included an elevator to the garage level. Where the first room is a table top workshop, here the equipment is larger and floor mounted. There’s even a small jib hoist above the work table. Heidi said, ‘I’ve had some inquiries about making larger dolls, your size or slightly larger. I have a lot of work to do on developing a lightweight skeletal structure and...

3 years ago
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Art History Class

For my first story, a experience that happened in my last year at school (before Uni). I was still a virgin at the time (17). Names have been changed, but it is based on true events which happened a long time ago. I have taken some poetic license but mostly it is true. I was sitting in a darken room with about 20 other students watching a projector slide show of 20th Century art. Our teacher Mrs Ingley, I suspect, was a bit of a sex addict, because she showed lots of nude pictures and painting...

4 years ago
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Art of Deep throat bondage

Deep throat is an acquired art. Not many know how to do it right. 99.99% give cheaters head. After doing a massage, i like giving deep throat Only to a Man, who can appreciate what i was doing, first. Second that had the stamina to complete the task, not take all day to cum, and third could repeat himself at least minimum 3-4 times in 2 hours. When i take a man into my throat, its an art, i like to first lick all around the head, the underside, the foreskin, then the crown, and finally inside...

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