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The First Morning

The First Morning By Tracy Crawford I opened my eyes. There was enough ambient light in my room to just make out the walls and furniture. The sun must be starting to rise. Not yet time to wake up. I adjusted my position under the covers to get more comfortable. As I brought my legs together, I felt the bare skin of my inside legs rubbing together. Still a bit groggy with sleep, it took a moment for that to register on my mind. I was wondering what happened to my pyjama pants when I...

A Very Wet Morning

I had just woken from a very erotic dream in which I was having sex with several women. I was sopping wet and I still had my hand between my legs and two fingers in my pussy. My fingers were coated with my silky juice so I brought my fingers to my mouth a licked them clean. As I tasted myself and again fingered my hole I tried to recall the dream. All I could remember was holding some woman’s cunt lips open with a speculum and getting a good look inside of her. I had so intrigued by this...

Amarillo by Morning

We were still a long way from our destination. We had filled up at dusk and now it was in the early hours of the new day. We were moving along I-40, the coach eating up the miles. Our departure from Las Vegas had been swift and the direction was not what we originally planned, but this trip was important for Mickey. That was enough of a reason to do everything in my power to accomplish what she needed The lights from the instrument panel illuminated the cockpit area and Mickey's face as she...

Will You Love Me in the Morning

First of all, so you don't get the wrong idea, my name is Brent Wilson. No, I'm not a Brad Pitt or a Matt Damon. Not an Arnie kind of guy either. Not too skinny or to bulky either. I'm a plain looking, nondescript fella you would pass on the street and then wonder if someone had really walked by you. Scruffed up, mildly dark brown hair, not quite morning bed-hair, but nearly so. I never can keep it in place. I don't like gels or perfumes for guys ... cologne... 'Man Scents' they call...

One Morning

When I woke up, I knew that something was not quite right. I tried to remember last night. My best friend Al and I had spent the night wandering from bar to bar near Fisherman's Wharf on our first night after getting to San Francisco. Al and I are both 35, and were here for a conference that was going to be more vacation than work, and we had decided to see some of the more exotic nightlife in town. I knew I had drunk too much, but I didn't feel at all like I had a hangover. I scanned the...

Salty Morning

Exploring The sun has just crested the volcano, its rays now warming the sand and sparkling in the water. We walk hand-in-hand, chatting a bit, trying to express the beauty of this isolated black sand beach with occasional expressions of 'wow' or 'this is so perfect, ' but failing to sound any more coherent than teenagers. I feel happy, we are finally together after months on the phone: we don't have to try to fit this into words, we can be quiet and share in the stark beauty of the...

Angel of the Morning

Angela felt his light touch on the outside of her arms, tracing the contours, dipping down to glide over her waist, and back again. He used just the right amount of pressure; gentle enough to arouse her, but not too light to tickle. She smiled, and opened her eyes. He was leaning over her, looking at her as if he was a bear, and she the honey. A grin spread across his handsome face. "It's almost morning, sleepy head." She stretched, letting the cover slip down and over her bare breasts....

A Dog of a Morning

“Can’t you understand Doc, it’s not a mental thing ... well it’s physical, you know,” whined Gina Sillitoe, staring at her hands interwoven in her lap. Doctor Henrik Roscoe peered at her over his specs perched perilously close to falling off his red, bulbous, pock marked nose. The attractive blonde was one of his favourite patients, one of the few bright spots of his otherwise unexciting rounds of dreary and depressing women in trauma. Her family wealth, local standing and prestige businesses...

Amarillo by Morning

My kids call Katharine and Gabe grandma and grandpa. I ain’t got a dime, but what I got is mine, I ain’t rich, but Lord I’m free... -Amarillo by Morning (Fraser and Stafford) Life does not end at forty. Gabe steered the big Peterbilt off the county road, and slowing down he carefully guided it through the old concrete arch ‘FRISCO LINES’ it read. It was close, but he had been driving tractors, over the road trucks, for twenty years. More than that long if he thought about it. But he had...

Silver Surfer 7 Take Two and Call Me in the Morning

NOTE: They used to talk about Stagedoor Johnnies, the men who hung around theaters with flowers and candy for the showgirls. Then women and girls got liberated and got horny, and they called the starstruck ones groupies. But there are some of us who call ourselves by another name. We are drawn to a special class of classy ladies, to those mature beauties who appreciate a man who appreciates a vintage affair. We call ourselves the silver surfers. And this is one of our stories. Alan D.,...

A Little Adventure in TimeChapter 21 The Spy in the Morning

In the morning, I asked everyone if they'd like to be the one to invite our observer to breakfast. "Hairy. Why do you want a woman to ask a man to breakfast?" Gil wondered. I grinned, "surely you've done it before." "Well." That tiny hesitation. "Yes," she confessed, "late at night, at a bar." She laughed. "He cooked." Everyone else laughed. Barb asked, "don't you think you should go? That's a man out there and he's been here for three days and nights." Ship said,...

On My Seventeenth Wedding AnniversaryChapter 9 Saturday Morning

Several hours, I was awakened by giggling, and some turbulence of the bed. I blinked several times, and found that there was another soul in the bed, and Suzie was evidently trying to lick a confession from Marie. At least, if Marie's muffled screams, and the white-knuckled grasp she had of Suzie's dark hair were any indication, Marie was nearly ready to confess to anything Suzie had in mind, if she would simply Finish Marie Off, as she was begging through clenched teeth. Unsurprisingly, I...

The GiftedChapter 1 Day of hell on Sunday Morning

Davy sat there against the brick wall of his bedroom, his pizza forgotten on the plate as he smacked his head against the stucco walls to get the tears to stop. His mind was racing in a million directions, and he felt himself crashing into another pool of despair. Grabbing his pillow, he curled up in the corner and cried for a normal life, a life without all the pain, hopelessness, confusion and loneliness he suffered from. His last thought as he finally fell asleep was about the new...

Consensual ConsequencesChapter 33 The Next Morning

When Sandy awoke the next morning, she felt as though she might burst from the level of happiness that was filling her. She was lying in a soft, comfortable bed, completely naked except for her collar, which was chained to a bolt in the wall. Still, there was enough slack in the chain for her to be comfortable, and even to move around in the large bed. She even had enough slack to get to the small toilet that she discovered right next to the bed. Sandy looked at her surroundings, and found...

Remy s SeductionChapter 6 Sunday Morning

‘I need to get out of here.’ It was a simple thought, both clear and rational. It occurred to Bethany while she was working the lights for the master’s debut of the oral stylings of Allison Remy. She was disgusted with the thought of what was about to happen to Allison, and a bit surprised by her own disgust. Yet there she was, obediently working the lights, like the boss’s little lap dog. Part of her had wanted to warn Allison not to drink anything handed to her that night. She had looked...

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