In Search of Tamar Ch. 1

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Finally, I was returning to Israel after five years. I never forgot Tamar Ya’akov, the soldier I had met on a chance encounter one night in Tel Aviv. I may have been with Tamar only a few days but the were enough for me to fall in love with her. Then, a chance meeting with her boyfriend’s cousin resulted in my leaving Israel under a cloud of suspicion and in pain. Now I was returning to Israel.

Why did I wait five years to return? One reason was that I could now get safely through Lod airport without encountering Daniellah Argov, my interrogator the night that Tamar and I were separated and a dominatrix of painful memory. Daniellah had taken a post as El Al’s security head in Toronto.

Another reason that I could go back was that Air Canada had recently instituted service between Tel Aviv and Toronto. By bypassing El Al, Mistress Dani would never discover that her favourite sub was returning to Israel. Finally, I was absolutely sure that Mossi Bar Lévi was out of jail by now and getting on with his life. Surely five years was enough time for even a Morroccan to forget me and how I had stolen his girlfriend.

As I sat in my airplane seat, I wondered if Tamar remembered me at all. Was she still available and did she still love me? Would she appreciate that I took up studying Hebrew for her? I hadn’t been wasting my time in the last five years. At least I would be able to find my way around Israel in search of the woman I love.

I remembered when I landed in Lod on El Al that the passengers burst out in hand clapping. This time there was stony silence. We’re Canadian after all. As I exited the airplane, the heat hit me like a hot iron that fell off the ironing board. This wasn’t Whitehorse, Toto. I had my passport stamped by the same unsmiling clerk as five years ago. Where do they get these people from?

I collected my luggage and made my way to the bus stop for the Ashdod Express. Why Ashdod, a city that wasn’t on anyone’s tourist list? I had stayed in contact with Colonel Chava Krotchnik, the only person I could trust in Israel who had any contact with Tamar. Colonel Krotchnik had had her own tragedies. She lost her lover and bondage partner, Percival Purves and got demoted at the same time. Somehow, she had rebounded, getting back her rank, although she wasn’t the Chief Army Censor now. We never talked on the telephone about our love life. It’s not something a young guy can discuss with an older woman.

So I had to see Colonel Krotchnik first on my way to find Tamar. The Colonel was in charge of the Israeli Army’s Ashdod Women’s Training Facility. When an Israeli girl got out of high school, her first month of army service consisted of Colonel Krotchnik beating her into shape. Well, that may be a poor choice of words. I knew the Colonel was a dominatrix but I was almost sure that she restricted her talents to submissive men. Colonel Krotchnik was a pervert but it didn’t involve young women.

I found the Army base in Ashdod and located Colonel Krotchnik’s office. She obviously hadn’t had the time to beat their girlishness out of the new recruits by the time I arrived at the base. The ones I met as I was escorted to the Colonel’s office giggled and stared at their male visitor.

As I sat outside the office, I practiced my newfound Hebrew and made out the letters “Chvh Qrtznk” on the door. Damn, what a difficult language. No vowels and what about that throat-clearing “ch” sound? Suddenly, I heard shouting and a uniformed girl burst out the door in tears. This girl wasn’t giggling and staring. Col. Krotchnik appeared in the doorway. She was fit, tanned and she stood ramrod straight so that she looked taller than her actual 160 cm. She hadn’t added one wrinkle in the five years since I last saw her. Her brown hair, tied in a roll at the back, didn’t have one grey hair. Her stern face turned into a cheerful smile when she saw me. When Colonel Krotchnik spoke, it was in an Eastern European accent so thick that you could smell the borscht on her breath:

“Chris, dollink. You come from Canada to zee me? Come in. Ve must talk dollink. I must apologize for zis unpleasant scene vit Private Zohar but Zahal must maintain its discipline. Please heff a seat. How long has it been Chris? Five Years? Ve must talk. I vill heff Private Reubens bring us zome refreshments.”

We sat down across her desk. One of the Colonel’s flunkies brought some café botz to sip whilst we performed the Middle Eastern socialization ritual. The Colonel brought me up to date on her reinstatement in rank and transfer to the Ashdod women’s barracks. When I asked her if she had ever gotten together again with Percy Purves, she shook her head:

“I neffer hear from Percy again. I hear from zome journalist friends zat he is vorking for American scandal paper writing stories about young ladies spanking bottoms of English lords. I don’t care vun bit because ze English heff zo many good submissives. I can heff my pick from ze English commandos who come train vit our army. Right now, I am canlı bahis training two English officers, Captain Biff Whipple und Corporal Bart Bottomley, how to be good submissives. Ze men vear me out, ze vay zey luff to be beaten. But enough about me und my luff life, dollink. How can Colonel Krotchnik help my good Canadian friend?”

“Colonel, I’m on a mission to find and marry Tamar Ya’akov. I’ve been hiding from Daniellah Argov and Mossi Bar Lévi for the past five years. These have been five years of pure loneliness and increasing desire for my lost love. Even if I am in danger from Daniellah or Mossi, I must find Tamar. You were the last person I know who had contact with Tamar. Can you tell me how to find her?”

“I vish I could help more but all I know is zat Tamar completed her service in her home town of Be’er Sheva. I only know zis from ze army records. Ven Tamar und me left zeh Army Censor’s office, ve lost all contact. Zat girl didn’t vant to shame me because I vas demoted. Eff you find her, tell her no hard feelings, don’t feel guilty und don’t be a stranger. If you vant to find Tamar, I suggest you go to Be’er Sheva and see if she is still zer.”

“I thank you for the fine coffee and the help you’ve given me, dear Colonel. I’ll try and find Tamar there in Be’er Sheva or someone who knows where she’s gone. I’ll get right on the next bus.”

“Zer is no bus to Be’er Sheva until tomorrow. I heff a suggestion if you heff ze time. Biff Whipple und Bart Bottomley heff gone to Dimona to show our people ze English technique of interrogation. Zat Bart luffs to get a beating from ze rubber hose when he plays ze prisoner. I tell you zis; zat man is a born submissive. So, I heff neither of my true luffs vit me tonight. Since you must stay vun night in Ashdod, zo vhy don’t you spend zeh time vith me? I know ver ve can eat vun good falafel und I heff a leather thong, yust your size. Ve could heff a good time after zupper.”

“Colonel, I wouldn’t have anyone else show me the delights of Ashdod but you. But I must decline your idea of a good time. You’re a good looking woman but I’m not into whips and leather, whatever you may have heard about my last visit to Israel. But I promise you this. If I’m ever in the mood for a good beating, I want it to be at your hands and your hands alone.”

“OK dollink, ve only have supper und talk about zeh good old days. I see you ven I am off duty zis evening.”

The way Colonel Krotchnik said it, she gave an order I couldn’t refuse. She commandeered a jeep and ordered one of her soldiers to drive me to the hotel and another to load my luggage. As I walked into the hotel, I’m sure that I heard the driver whisper to the other soldier “takat yafeh” (nice buns). I snoozed away my jet lag in my room and was awakened precisely at 7:00 p.m. by the Colonel ringing me up on the house phone:

“If you ver in my unit, I vould make you do 50 pushups for sleeping so late. Get down here now, dollink. Ve heff a date.”

Colonel Krotchnik turned out to be a fun date. We were an odd couple, a 50-year old army officer and a young civilian. Despite the differences, there was something between us that clicked that night. The Colonel had a good sense of humor and a lot of stories to tell. Who knows? Maybe she was that rarest of breeds, a happy dominatrix. She didn’t just talk but she listened. She asked about my career as a journalist, as if I was any match for her experiences in life. Most of Colonel Krotchnik’s stories were about her days in the Army Censor Office.

“Of course, I got all zeh stories to be sent to Eastern Europe. Zose Communist journalists ver zo obedient zat I could tell zem to write anyzing. But zen, zey ver used to taking orders vere zey come from. Zey took orders zo vell zat zey vere almost as good submissives as ze English. It vas ze Americans who giff me trouble. Zey alvays zot zey knew grammar better zan Chava Krotchnik. I got speeches from ze Americans like you vouldn’t belief about Freedom of the Press. Zo, I alvays gave ze Americans und ze Canadians as a bonus to my Tamar to deal vit.”

“Tell me more about the Tamar you knew, Colonel. Was Tamar a good worker? Did you get along well with her?”

“Tamar vas to me like zeh daughter I neffer had. Such a good vorker und villing to go zeh extra mile. Ve had a good vorking relationship und personal relationship as vell. Tamar told me all about you and asked my motherly advice. It vas me who got her leaf for a veek to go avay vit you.”

“I didn’t know that. What did Tamar tell you about me and why would that convince you to give her leave so she could go on a trip like that?”

“Vell dollink, you know how vomen are ven ve talk? Tamar said that she fell in luff vit you ze first time you met. She said, zis guy, Chris, is kind, he luffs life, he’s good in bed but maybe a little stupid. But Chris is only a man, after all. She could go on for hours about how she vas neffer fucked the vay you fucked her und how she luffed your zain. Ven she found you again at bahis siteleri the Censor Office, I tell her, ‘You must not let zis man get avay. Go vit him und enjoy der sex. He is perfect for you, effen if he has a goyische kopf.”

Slightly stupid was I? It sounded like a good time to change the subject before she got too curious about my zain. I was curious how an apparently normal woman like Chava Krotchnik end up as an officer in Zahal and an accomplished dominatrix? We were at a sidewalk café and had downed a few 777 brandies. That loosened both of us up a bit so I decided to ask the Colonel a personal question.

“Colonel, how come you never got married? I mean you’re fun to be with, you’re a good looking woman and you seem to like sex, even if it’s a little on the perverted side. Are you one of those people married to their careers?”

“Vell, I vas actually engaged vunce to be married. It vas anuzer soldier doing his compulsory service like me, Tzvi Studman. I vasn’t into ze bondage zen. Tzvika made luff zo beautifully, it vas like music made by zer Israel Philharmonic. He vas der man for me. He vas zo vell hung und he knew vat to do vit it. Ze first time ve made love, I zink he push my vomb up into my stomach. I neffer see again in my life zain on any man like I see on my Tzvikah. He vas a sex machine zat could play Chava Krotchnik like Yitzhak Perlman play ze violin. Ven ve finish our army service, ve vanted to start a farm of our own. By day, Tzvikah could plow ze ground und, by night, he vould plow up Chava’s insides. I vas zo happy and looking forward to being under ze choopah vith Tzvikah zat I bought a vedding dress vhile I vas doing my service.”

“But what happened to Tzvikah and your dreams of life on a farm.”

“Ze Yom Kippur Var ended my dreams. Tzvikah vas killed during heavy fighting in ze Sinai. I vas devastated but I stayed in ze army zo I vould alvays remember zeh time I had vit Tzvikah. I couldn’t stand ze zought of being vit another man until I met a man who didn’t vant sex, just a few slaps on his bottom. I discovered I had a talent as a dominatrix und, hineh, here I am.”

Tears began to well up in Colonel Krotchnik’s eyes as she told me about her long-lost love. I didn’t think that an old dominatrix could cry but there she was with mascara running down her cheeks. She dabbed her eyes with her napkin, smearing around more mascara. I put my hand on the Colonel’s free hand. It was smooth and warm. She didn’t push my hand away.

“I didn’t mean to bring up am old hurt, Colonel. I can imagine how losing your fiancé that way would break your heart. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Let me clean up my face in your room. Zey heff no bathroom in zis place.”

I took Colonel Krotchnik back to my room. OK, you know what happened next. I ended up fucking a 50-year old woman, Tamar’s old boss no less, when I should have been looking for Tamar. How could I do that, you ask? As I said, Chava Krotchnik really wasn’t a bad looking woman. Probably she looked even better in the evening and with a few shots of 777 brandy in me. I checked to make sure she wasn’t carrying a bag full of sexual toys, so I wasn’t in for a beating.

Then there was the curiosity factor. Did Colonel Krotchnik still have it after 50 years? Someone once told me that an older woman was the best lay because she never knew when she was going to get it again. Was that true? If she still had it, how does an old dominatrix respond to her first plain vanilla sex in 20 years? And was Tzvikah’s technique as pure and unperverted as the Colonel implied? And was Tzvikah better hung than I was? My curiosity turned into a challenge, but it wasn’t any trouble to get the Colonel into bed, naked and no leather . In fact, she was already in bed when I got out of the bathroom. She had placed her uniform neatly on my suitcase and made sure it wouldn’t wrinkle. Her brassiere and panties were on the floor beside the bed. As I came out of the bathroom, The Colonel took the clasp out of her hair and let the roll cascade down to her shoulders. Long brown hair completely changed Colonel Krotchnik’s face. She was smiling, an almost sensual look on her face. I undressed without ceremony and climbed under the sheets with her.

She whispered, “Please call me Chava, Chris. Please be gentle with me und I vill show you vat an old lady can do.”

Chava Krotchnik turned out to be one wild woman in bed. I had no sooner slipped under the sheets than she was all over me, kissing and thrusting her tongue in my mouth and kissing my face. I thrust my tongue back in her mouth and checked for dentures. None. The thought occurred to me that either they fluoridate the water in this country or they have good dentists. Chava’s teeth were straight, all accounted for and a delight to run my tongue over. I remembered when she was smiling in the restaurant that her teeth were nice and white. The Colonel didn’t smoke like so many Israeli women.

I reached for one of Chava’s breasts to check out if other bahis şirketleri parts of her were still in shape. Chava had small breasts for an Israeli woman, which meant that she had a pair which a woman anywhere else would kill for. A Colonel’s uniform was no better at displaying breasts that Tamar’s regular soldier’s uniform. Chava’s breasts had a slight sag in them – well, they had been hanging there for 50 years. Chava started to moan and squeal like a 15-year old as soon as I touched her tit. Probably she had forgotten the pleasure of a man gently touching her breast during her years of administering beatings.

As I played with Chava’s tits, sucking on her nipples and then gently pressing them between my fingers, Chava’s moans and squeals went up in volume. She was no singer but any woman who expresses herself with noise makes the music I love to hear. As I ran my hands along her hips and along her thighs, I didn’t find one speck of fat or love handles. Chava Krotchnik still had one nice tight body for her age, just the slight bulge around her stomach, not anything you would term a potbelly.

I reached down to Chava’s crotch and parted her legs. I wondered what I would find there. It’s always an adventure touching a woman’s pussy for the first time but this was my first touch of fifty-year old pussy. I had heard so many stories from my friends about how older women’s pussies dried up like the Negev Desert once past menopause. It was usually accompanied by my friend giving a graphic descriptions of the pain of a dry fuck and the discomfort of a foreskin being sandpapered off. There I was in a foreign country without a foreskin to protect me and no KY lubricant.

As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry at all. Chava’s crotch was soaked and the juice was running down her thighs. I parted her outer lips. If I remember my Slavic language studies correctly, the surname Krotchnik must mean “little crotch”. If I was right, Chava Krotchnik was carrying on a proud family tradition. As my finger glided up between her inner lips, it was like exploring between two narrow, hard walls. Chava was a tight little package between her legs. When I get back to Canada, I’ll have to tell the guys that everything they told me about older women was wrong.

I stroked the lower side of her clitoris lightly, never touching the tip, always staying on the side. Chava was so wet that my finger glided easily and lightly up and down these sensitive parts. Chava enjoyed the light touch. She didn’t complain about tickling. The only sounds she made were groans, gasps and sighs the reached a crescendo as her clitoris bulged up as large as a baby’s pecker. Chava’s body convulsed as she had a prolonged orgasm.

You can take the dominatrix out of her leathers but you can’t take the domination out of the dominatrix. When Chava stopped coming, she told me to lie on my back. I lay there with my pecker in the air while she fumbled in one of the pockets of her uniform on the suitcase and pulled out an army-issue condom. I already knew that the civilian Israeli condoms were as thick as a rubber boot so the military ones must be like truck tires. I had to put an end to this.

“What’s with the rubber, Chava? I hate those things.”

“But I tell all my recruits to use zese ven zey heff sex. It has ze Zahal serial number right here. Zere is vun of zese kaputs in effery Israeli soldier’s field equipment, male or female. It’s in ze regulations.”

“I can’t recall that you read that regulation to Tamar. Besides, you left the Colonel on my suitcase. You’re Chava right now.”

“OK, ve don’t use der rubber if you promise neffer to tell my girls.”

I promised, Chava discarded the package and she eagerly started to suck dick. She was even better than Daniellah at fallatio. Chava could not only apply the vacuum to a dick but she could run her tongue up and down the shaft of the dick at the same time. In no time at all, I shot off. I don’t know if it was Chava’s intention to blow me off but she swallowed without letting go of my dick. If Chava was typical, Israeli soldiers must be tough women.

I got hard again as Chava kept sucking my dick and maintaining my dick at full alert. Finally, she was satisfied with its condition and squatted so that our business parts touched and lined up. Her pussy was even wetter with excitement as she sensed that she was about to get some young zain again. She rubbed my tip a little between her pussy lips and then inserted the tip in her cunt.

Damn, for 50 years old, Chava was a tight little piece. My buddies told me stories about 50 year old women so completely fucked out that they were big as a coffee can down there. I shouldn’t have worried. Chava hadn’t had any children in her 50 years. I had checked for stretch marks while I was kissing her stomach. My dick hurt as she pushed to get me in but finally her cunt yielded and I was in an inch. Chava gasped:

“You’re effen bigger zan Tzvikah. I vill heff trouble vit you tonight.”

Was Chava saying that to make me feel good or was I really was bigger than her first love? Was she tight like a virgin because she never got a poke from her submissives? After all, what did I know about what really went on in the bondage scene?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Oddball for Britney

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.


Britney loved the Harley-Davidson Electra-glide; loved kicking it into life, feeling the powerful motor rumble to life, loved feeling the motor vibrate between her legs. She loved taking the motorcycle down to the pockmarked Highway 171; each bump and jolt driving the leather seat into her crotch.

She’d bought the motorcycle as a late twenty first birthday present for herself, along with a bar in Holly Bridge, Mississippi. She renamed the Magnolia Lounge the Fleur De Lis and spread the word that there was a new Lesbian bar near the Mississippi State College campus.

Britney looked up at the kitchen window of the small home that she and Chin Li shared. For a moment, she saw Chin Li’s face in the window, and then the small face disappeared.

She double-checked her helmet chin strap, stomped her foot down on the gear peg and surged forward. Twenty minutes later, she pulled up to the bar and smiled. There were nine trucks and four cars in the parking lot, and six other motorcycles.

Britney frowned as she spotted Sandy’s Kawasaki 900, the garish green crotch rocket almost an insult to the other chrome monsters around it.

“Fucking bitch better not give me shit tonight; I just ain’t in the fucking mood,” Britney muttered.

Britney took off her helmet and pulled her purse out of the small storage compartment. She rummaged around in the purse and found her hairbrush.

She brushed her short blonde hair and shook her head as Mickey, the burley bouncer, whistled at her.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Wertmuller; just get in there, huh?” Mickey playfully teased her boss.

Lesbian or not, motorcycle or not, Britney was feminine, liked looking pretty, liked looking her best. She used to have long blonde hair, but a motorcycle helmet made long hair impractical, and sometimes unsafe. But, her short hair was styled in a manner that framed her beautiful face.

“What’s up?” Britney asked casually, making sure that her lace blouse was still tucked into the red leather shorts.

“Nothing, couple of football players from that high school drove by, screaming all kind of shit, but that’s about it,” Mickey said, giving Britney an appraising glance.

Britney had found out, within a month of opening, that college town or not, some people weren’t exactly open-minded about an openly gay bar in their midst. After a few cars had been vandalized, Britney took to hiring off-duty police and ex-military women to act as bouncers slash parking lot security.

“And of course, you scared the shit out of them,” Britney said, glancing at the gun strapped to mickey’s hip.

“Naw, fucking know how expensive bullets are?” Mickey laughed. “I pull this, somebody’s going to get hit, that’s all I got to say.”

Britney gave the burly woman a quick, friendly kiss, and sauntered into the dark club.

A few people called out to her; she greeted some with waves, others she gave quick hugs, and two of them she completely ignored.

“Hey,” she said to Marge, the old woman behind the bar, leaned over and gave the woman a quick kiss.

She laughed as Marge tried to force her tongue into her mouth.

“About six stools down, red hat,” Marge hissed, putting a shot glass in front of Britney.

Marge smirked as Britney gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Marge knew Britney’s tastes; Britney liked them small, liked them young, and liked them scared, defenseless. Britney liked victims, damaged women. The more insecure, the better.

And the girl with the red baseball cap was right up Britney’s alley. Barely five feet tall, with long brown hair, slim figure, and scared out of her mind.

According to Mickey, the girl had sat in her car for nearly fifteen minutes before finally getting the courage to open her car door. From her car, the girl nearly ran for the door of the bar.

From the door, Marge had watched the girl’s skittish travel to the long, tall bar. Once the girl finally decided on a stool, she’d barely whispered her request for a rum and coke.

“You old enough, Sweetie?” Marge had asked, not unkindly.

“Yes ma’am,” the girl had whispered and pulled out an obviously fake ID.

Marge didn’t care; the police had not once raided the place and most likely wouldn’t raid it now. They were too afraid of the negative press that raiding an openly gay bar would bring them. Even if people hated the homosexual lifestyle, they didn’t want to be branded as bigots, so they would throw their support behind the Fleur De Lis bar.

Britney tossed back the whiskey shot and casually looked around, finally looking at the girl that hunkered down on the stool two stools to her right.

“Hey,” she said to the girl, and then continued her surveillance of the bar.

“Hi,” Megan whispered. “Um, are you, you wouldn’t be Denise, um KittyKat, huh?”

“Sorry, what?” Britney asked.

“Um, I’m uh, I’m supposed to be meeting KittyKat, um, said her name’s Denise; she said to wear something illegal bahis red and this was all I could find an…” Megan stammered, tugging on the visor of her cap.

“Sorry, Babe,” Britney smiled easily. “Why? I look like her?”

“Um, no, um, but she said she’d wear something red and I’d wear something red and we’d…” Megan stammered, about to cry.

Britney looked down at her red leather shorts and smiled at Megan. Megan, despite her fear, smiled back.

“Nope, I’m not Denise; whoever that is. “I’m Britney,” Britney said and held out a hand.

“I’m Megan,” Megan said, then almost groaned.

The name on her doctored ID card was Collette, not Megan. And Denise knew her as Collette, not Megan.

“Oh well, too late now,” she thought to herself.

“What you drinking?” Britney asked, gesturing to Marge.

“Rum and coke,” Megan whispered.

“Ready for another one, Sweetie?” Marge asked.

“Yes ma’am,” Megan nodded.

“Hit me,” Britney said and Marge nodded.

Megan quickly finished her first drink and smiled as Marge put the second drink down for her.

Britney raised her shot glass in a silent toast, smiling at Megan.

A song played in the background but the small dance floor only had two couples on it; most of the clientele were crowded around the three billiard tables and five video game consoles.

“Want to dance?” Britney asked, nodding with her head toward the dance floor.

Given a choice, Britney would have rather steered Megan toward the video games, letting a little friendly competition lower Megan’s inhibitions and fears, but the crowd that was on that side of the bar was a rough group; loud, brash.

“Um, okay, um sure,” Megan said and slid herself off of the stool.

Britney looked around at her bar in satisfaction.

She’d bought two scratch-off lottery tickets at a gas station just outside of Mumphrey, Louisiana. Chin Li had rolled her eyes at Britney when Britney had asked if she wanted any.

“Gambling is for fools,” Chin Li had declared. “You’ll never win; the odds are stacked against you.”

“Uh huh,” Britney had laughed. “But for what? Ten bucks? I just bought two dreams.”

“Two dreams?” Chin Li had asked, wrinkling her face in confusion.

“Uh huh. ‘Ooh, I wonder what I’ll do with all that money’ and then when you don’t win on the first one, you move on to the next one and start the dreaming all over again,” Britney had laughed. “See, I got a ‘King Float’ Mardi gras scratch-off and when that one turns out to be a dud, I’ve got this ‘Louisiana Gumbo’ scratch off.”

“And I still have my ten dollars,” Chin Li had said smugly.

“Speaking of which, bitch, cough it up; gas ain’t free,” Britney had smiled and dug a quarter out of her purse.

Britney scratched the film off of the play area and blinked.

To win, the player needed to get three King Floats in a row. Either up and down, or across, or diagonally. There were nine squares on the play area. Britney could see two floats under the removed film and unless it was a trick, there was a third one in view.

(The printer had printed up a test ticket, to make sure the art work was legible and that each thumbnail sketch was distinctive, clearly discernable, one from another. He was supposed to shred the test ticket after the ticket had passed his visual inspection, but accidentally shredded the second test ticket, letting the first ticket pass through the overlay process.)

“Holy fucking shit,” Britney gasped, stunned as she looked at nine King Floats on her ticket.

“What?” Chin Li had asked, looking at her friend and dorm roommate.

“Chin Li, I got all nine floats; you get three in a row, it’s a million dollars,” Britney had whispered urgently.

“You’re making that up,” Chin Li had said dismissively.

The Louisiana Lottery office tried to get out of paying; it was obviously a forgery, or a mistake. Thankfully, Sophia Coutre, a lawyer that lived next door to the Wertnullers in DeGarde, Louisiana, took the case. According to the rules printed on the back of the lottery ticket, Britney was due eight million; she had three matches across, three down, and two diagonal. The printer and the Louisiana Lottery office settled and Britney was awarded five million dollars.

The Harley-Davidson was one of the gifts Britney gave herself. The bar was another gift. The small house she and Chin Li shared, along with four other small homes she rented to college students, preferably gay students was yet another gift.)

“Millionaire or not,” Allison Wertnuller, Britney’s mother had sternly said, “You’re finishing college, you hear?”

Now, taking the sweating hand of Megan and pulling the small girl onto the floor, Britney was pleased with her investment.

Marge smiled as Britney became slightly aggressive; pulling a still quite frightened Megan into an intimate pose. Marge let the song finish, then hit the disc carousel.

“Marge, I fucking hate you!” Britney screamed as ‘Vertigo’ by U2 started.

Marge laughed and turned the volume illegal bahis siteleri up.

“Damn it, Marge, you know what that song does to me!” Britney complained.

“Dance, bitch, dance,” Marge demanded.

Megan felt someone grab the collar of her silk blouse and pull her backward off the small dance area.

“Watch this,” a friendly voice laughed.

Britney launched herself into the dance routine she and the DeGarde High School cheerleaders used to perform to the song.

“Oh my God,” Megan gasped as Britney flipped backward, seemingly effortlessly.

“See why I pulled you out of there, Honey?” the woman laughed as more and more of the customers crowded around the dance floor.

The song ended and the crowd applauded as Britney pulled herself out of her leg split.

“Bitch, I’ll get you for that,” Britney yelled at Marge.

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” Marge laughed and hit the carousel again.

“Come on Marge!” Britney yelled as Michael Jackson’s ‘Billie Jean’ came booming out.

“Come on, just one more, huh?” Marge called back.

“Wow, she’s good,” Megan said to her new friend as Britney did the moonwalk across the small tiled area.

“Uh huh, yeah she is,” the older woman agreed, clapping in time to the music.

“How about…” Marge called as the crowd applauded Britney’s performance.

“No, Marge, no, put on anything else,” Britney complained as Kylie Minogue’s ‘Fever’ came booming out.

“Fine, fine, you’re the boss,” Marge laughed and put on a Taylor Swift song.

“Wow, you’re amazing,” Megan gasped as Britney again pulled her into a very close embrace.

“Thanks,” Britney laughed and chanced a quick little kiss on Megan’s lips.

Megan gasped and pulled herself slightly away, then reminded herself why she was there.

The nineteen year old girl and her twenty year old boyfriend had smoked a few joints, drank a pint of rum, and then shared their deepest sexual fantasies with each other.

“Me too!” Megan had blurted out when Conrad had said that he fantasized about making love with her and another woman.

The moment she sobered up, she regretted admitting to Conrad that she had bisexual feelings; he simply would not let the matter drop. He pressured her and pressured her until she agreed to follow through on the fantasy.

Together, they had logged onto his computer and found a few dating sites that had ‘Alternate’ sections.

KittyKat4U30341 had intrigued them, they made contact, and KittyKat4U30341 had agreed to meeting with Megan at the Fleur De Lis, to see if they were a match. If they did, then of course their next meeting would include Conrad.

She smiled nervously at Britney, and then leaned her head against Britney’s shoulder as they swayed to the music.

(In a dirty dormitory room, KittyKat4U30341, a twenty four year old Teacher’s Assistant cursed herself for again chickening out of going to the Fleur De Lis and meeting with a girl; Collette had sounded so promising. Toni unzipped the red blue jeans and wiggled out of them and dropped them onto the floor. The fact that Collette knew her as Denise and not Toni was of little comfort.)


Megan smiled as Britney pulled her into the small house.

Britney looked around; no sign of Chin Li.

“So, um, you want to sit; get to know one another?” Britney asked, tracing a hand up and down Megan’s arm. “Or, you want to play?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Megan let out a breathy whisper.

“Come on,” Britney said, taking the girl’s hand.

Without the silly baseball cap, Megan was cute. Her face was small, small brown eyes, small nose, and small mouth. Her chest, while not flat, was not very large either. Her waist was tiny; Megan had admitted to Britney that finding jeans was somewhat of a struggle.

“I find ones that don’t just fall off, they’re too tight in the butt,” Megan had complained.

“It is a nice butt,” Britney had said, chancing a quick pat on Megan’s buttock.

“Really? I think it’s too big; I mean look at me! I’m too short! Then you slap a big old butt on top of that?” Megan had said.

“Nah, it’s perfect,” Britney had assured the girl.

Inside her bedroom, Britney turned on her bedside lamp, casting a soft glow in the room.

Megan stood at the foot of the bed, uncertain of what to do.

“Don’t worry, Mary,” Britney whispered, softly touching Megan’s arms, dragging her hands down to Megan’s small hands.

“Um, it’s Megan,” Megan corrected Britney.

“We’ll go as slow as you want to,” Britney assured the girl, kissing her lightly.

Megan closed her eyes and returned Britney’s kiss.

“As slow as you want,” Britney assured the girl and traced the tip of her tongue around Megan’s small lips.

“Oh,” Megan moaned with the intimate gesture.

“I love you, Mary,” Britney whispered into Megan’s ear.

“It’s…” Megan said then moaned again as Britney gently nipped on Megan’s ear lobe.

Britney undid the first button on Megan’s silk blouse and gently kissed Megan’s throat.

“When canlı bahis siteleri did you start wearing perfume?” Britney asked, tasting Megan’s perfume on Megan’s skin.

“I’ve always, it’s my favor…” Megan said, confused.

“Smells nice,” Britney assured her and undid another button.

“Oh, Megan moaned as Britney softly kissed the newly exposed flesh.

“Like that?” Britney asked and again kissed Megan’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Megan admitted.

“How about this?” Britney asked and gently raked her fingernails along Megan’s throat.

Megan couldn’t help but giggle.

“I forgot; you’re ticklish,” Britney whispered and undid another button of Megan’s blouse.

Megan was puzzled at Britney’s comment, but another soft kiss distracted her.

“Oh, I like that,” Britney groaned as Megan’s black lace bra was exposed. “Oh, Mary, that looks amazing on you.”

“Thank you,” Megan whispered as Britney’s feather light touches were driving her crazy.

She tensed up for a moment when she felt Britney’s fingers at the snap of her jeans, then relaxed and let Britney undo her jeans.

“Let me…” Megan asked and reached out to unbutton Britney’s blouse.

“”Yes,” Britney hissed.

Underneath, Britney wore no bra; her 32 B breasts and their pale pink nipples rarely saw a bra.

Megan reached out a trembling hand and hefted small breast.

Britney unzipped her leather boots and kicked them off, pushing them under her king sized bed. She let her white lace blouse slide off of her shoulders and stood, posing in her red leather shorts.

In high school, Britney and her twin sister Tiffany had sported thirty four C Breasts, twenty eight inch waists, and thirty two inch hips. Their legs were their best feature, long, tan, muscular, and both twins wore clothing that highlighted their best feature.

Then, when news of Tiffany’s death reached her, Britney spiraled into deep depression and she quit eating. She dwindled down to nearly ninety three pounds, could not be bothered to shower, or brush her teeth.

Chin Li’s sharp slap shocked her and Britney stared in disbelief at her dorm roommate.

“You in a hurry to see your sister again?” Chin Li screamed at her best friend, her only friend.

“What?” Britney stammered.

“Here, eat this,” Chin Li ordered, slapping a slice of pizza in front of Britney.

“I’m not…” Britney protested.

“Eat it!” Chin Li screamed, after delivering another slap to Britney’s face. “I didn’t ask if you were hungry! Just eat it!”

Nearly nine months later, Britney was back to looking healthy and loved showing off her body to her lovers.

She unzipped the leather shorts and slid them down her legs, showing Megan the thick blonde bush. She then turned, in an exaggerated movement to pick up blouse and shorts, displaying her round ass to Megan’s view.

“Here,” Britney said, and knelt down to unlace Megan’s tennis shoes.

Megan stepped out of the shoes and smiled down as Britney unzipped her jeans, and playfully inched them down slowly over her hips. Britney smiled appreciatively as Megan’s skimpy black lace thong came into view.

“Beautiful; I really like that; they look great on you,” Britney praised and planted a kiss right on Megan’s slightly pudgy belly.

Megan let Britney pull the jeans all the way off of her short, pudgy legs. And smiled as Britney made quick work of pulling off the sports socks.

“Okay?” Britney queried and Megan nodded in agreement.

“Good,” Britney breathed and took Megan into her arms again.

Megan’s head actually buzzed with the excitement that threatened to overwhelm her.

Conrad’s kisses were clumsy at best, too forceful. Britney’s kisses were feathered light, yet passionate. And Conrad’s breath always tasted foul, foul from the marijuana he smoked constantly. Only when he drank did she get any reprieve from the sickly sweet and burnt taste of his tongue.

Britney’s tongue entered Megan’s mouth and danced on Megan’s tongue, then quickly pulled out so that Britney could again press a feather soft kiss to Megan’s throat. The tongue tasted of peppermint and whiskey. It was a pleasant taste, an exciting taste.

“May I?” Britney asked softly, tugging on the clasp of Megan’s bra.

“Uh huh,” Megan agreed and became slightly aggressive, taking a kiss from Britney as the slightly taller Britney unhooked the bra.

“Oh, God, they’re beautiful,” Britney sighed as Megan’s little buds came into view.

“They’re too small,” Megan whispered.

“They’re perfect,” Britney corrected and softly placed her hands over Megan’s pale flesh.

“Not like yours,” Megan protested and put her small hands over Britney’s slightly larger breasts, mirroring Britney’s movements.

“Perfect,” Britney insisted and again kissed Megan.

Megan shivered as Britney’s fingers left her breasts and began to travel up and down along her sides, reaching down to her hips, to the straps of her thong, then back up again. The whole while, Britney’s lips kissed her lips, her throat, her earlobes, her eyelids, and her small nose.

She again mirrored Britney’s movements, not really knowing what else to do.

“May Me” Britney asked, hooking a thumb underneath the thin elastic band of Megan’s panties.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bath Time

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


He took my hand and led me with silent steps towards the bathroom. He dropped my hand as he paused and turned around. He leaned back against the door and smiled at me. I smiled back at him and stepped forwards. He laid his hand on my shoulders and slid them softly down my arms. His fingers sought mine and interlaced. He pulled me towards him and kissed me hotly. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and pressed my body against his, moaning softly into his mouth. I longed to taste him – the sweet nectar of his skin.

His hands broke free of mine and slid the thin straps of my jammys down across my shoulders. I trembled at his light touch and felt my breath catch in my throat. He abruptly broke our kiss and moved his lips to the place where my neck met my shoulder and kissed from my shoulder to my earlobe. He nipped at my earlobe and then whispered ‘I want you, Lai.’ I tilted back my head and whispered ‘I want you too.’

He trailed one fingertip across my collarbone while his eyes locked into mine. He continued trailing his fingertip down my sternum, between my breasts, across my belly button, and along the length of my waistband. His deep eyes penetrated mine and I felt my very soul canlı bahis quake. I wanted to look away but I remained spellbound.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, leaning forward. His lips met mine and as I felt his tongue invade my mouth his hand slipped underneath my waistband. He expertly parted my cunt lips and drove his index finger deep within me. I gasped against his hot mouth and felt my knees grow weak. He growled low in the back of his throat and I knew I was his. He withdrew his finger, glistening, from my cunt and lifted to his mouth. He parted his lips and put his finger inside, sucking it clean. Then he reached behind him and opened the bathroom door.

The bathtub was enormous and the frothy bubbles spilled forth. The lights were off and candles burned around the perimeter, casting shadows on the tiled walls. I stood barefooted on the white carpeting. He stood before me and removed his shirt and then stepped out of his pants. He told me to lift my arms and as I did so, he pulled off my shirt, revealing my hardened pink nipples. He took one and pinched it between his thumb and his forefinger. ‘Turn around.’ he said.

I turned and faced the bahis siteleri wall. I heard his soft steps behind me. He pulled my jammy bottoms off my body and told me to step out of them. I did so and he put his knee between my legs and spread them further apart. I heard him kneel and he began again to rise as he was kissing the back of my legs, my thighs, and then nipped my ass. I moaned softly and he silenced me. He kissed up the length of my spine. He stood behind me and pressed himself against me. I felt him hard against my ass. Then he stepped back and I felt the sting as his hand met my ass with surprising force. ‘Into the bath with you then.’ he growled.

I stepped naked into the water. I felt the steam rise around my and my cunt grow wet in anticipation. I knelt in the water as he stood next to the tub, his hard cock jutting out before him. I licked my red lips and leaned forward, taking the purplish crown into my hot, wet, waiting mouth. I swirled my tongue around the tip and cupped his sac with my free hand. He grunted. I buried his cock in my mouth, taking him all in until my nose was buried in the tangle of hair there. I breathed in his intoxicating scent. He grabbed my bahis şirketleri hair with one hand and urged me to suck harder. I obliged.

He stepped back and his cock slid out of my mouth with a soft pop. He put his hand on my shoulder and stepped into the water. He laid down and settled back then crooked his finger at me. I crawled on top of him, careful to keep my cunt just barely on the tip of his cock. I met his lips and kissed him deeply. His hands swum through the water and he splayed his fingers across each of my ass cheeks and raised his hips all at once. I moaned as I felt him penetrate me fully. ‘Oh yes…’ I whispered into his mouth.

He removed his hands from my ass as his hips begin to keep rhythm with mine. His fingers found my nipples and pinched them as his cock thrust in and out of my cunt. I leaned forward and sucked on his neck until I felt a welt rising beneath my tongue. ‘Fuck me baby…’ he cried out. I intensified my efforts. The water ebbed and flowed around us as his cock mercilessly pounded my cunt over and over again. I screamed out in pleasure as I felt my back arch involuntarily.

I felt his cock slide in and out of my cunt repeatedly as he moaned out my name. I felt myself begin to cum and I screamed out his name as my muscles milked him repeatedly as I crested over the edge. My orgasm was enough to set him off and he kissed me deeply as he exploded in waves deep within me.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Independence Day Ch. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


MMMMM. 4th of July weekend. I went to the Green with a friend and her son. While standing in line to get her son an Ice Cream, Sarah and I spotted an attractive man walking towards us. I told Sarah that I would be right back I pulled out the winder on my watch and changed the time. I walked toward him and like an innocent child I told him that winder on my watch had gotten snagged and was wondering if he could tell me the time so that I could reset it. He told me the time and I began my flirting. Knowing what I wanted I went for it. I cast out and he bit the hook. I found out that he was on the green with his daughter but that the next day was all open. I asked if he had any friends that might want to join.

When I met up with Tony the next day he had 3 friends with him, Bryan, Billy, and Chris. WE got a room in the next town and went straight to it. As soon as the door was closed Tony took his clothes off and then his friends followed. Tony came up to me as I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked my hair and put his cock in front of my mouth. I went right to it taking his big hard cock into my mouth, canlı bahis moving my lips up and down the shaft. HE stepped back and I looked around the room and noticed that Bryan, Chris, and Billy were all stroking their cocks. He had me lay on the bed and he straddled my face and stroked his cock as I licked and sucked on his balls. I felt someone pull at my shorts till they were off but I couldn’t tell who it was.

Once my shorts and underwear were removed I felt a very nice tongue hit my clit sending shocks through my body. It was such an exciting feeling not being able to see what was coming next. It heightened the sexual pleasure so much. Tony still stroking his cock backed up a little so that I could get his cock into my mouth. As Tony was fucking my mouth The tongue on my clit started to flick sideways and then I felt a finger enter my wet pussy tickling me from the inside. Then as I sucked Tony’s cock I felt the tongue stop and the fingers stop. I then felt someone’s cock slowly enter my pussy. They pulled out just a bit and then thrust back inside and started to thrust hard and fast. Before bahis siteleri I knew they pulled the cock out of my pussy and I felt something hot hit my thigh. He had already Cum. With Tony’s cock in my mouth I couldn’t say much and I then felt someone wipe the cum away with what felt like a towel.

I was so disappointed. Tony leaned forward and was fucking my mouth straight down so his cock was actually starting to go down my throat making me gag a little. He then pulled up some and let me move my head to suck his cock. Tony began to cum and as he did he pushed his cock back down into my mouth. I drank it all down. He then moved and then I could see that Bryan and Billy were still stroking their cocks as Chris sat on the other bed and Tony went into the bathroom to clean himself off. Bryan and Billy both moved up so that their cocks were on each side of my mouth. I began to suck on Brian’s and then turn and suck on Billy’s. Tony came out of the bathroom and left the room.

I was still sucking on Brian and Billy’s cocks as Tony walked back into the room with a bandanna. He told me to sit up and bahis şirketleri he then blindfolded me with it. He told me to get on all 4s and I did so. I then felt a cock hit my lips and I took it into my mouth. I then felt another cock enter my pussy and almost at the same time they began to thrust into me. I tried to let out a moan but a cock thrusting toward my throat silenced it and in turn I gagged instead. I felt the man behind me grab my hips and push his cock all the way inside. Once there he started to grind his hips in almost a circular motion. The man in front of me was holding onto my head as he fucked my mouth as deep as my throat would let him. I then heard the man in front of me moan just slightly (I realized then that it was Bryan) and he came into my mouth.

After swallowing I leaned my head down to enjoy the cock inside of my pussy. Then he stopped and told me to turn around. I did and he inserted again in the missionary position then lifted my legs so that they were on his shoulders. He leaned down just a bit and started to thrust deep. Then his thrusts became shallow and he pulled out and I felt his cum hit my stomach. I immediately started to wipe it with my hand so that I could taste it. I licked my fingers clean and then the bandanna was removed. All of us cleaned up and then went and got something to eat.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

In-Flight Entertainment

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


I was finally boarding the plane, after making my way through the maze of airport security, when my cell phone rang. Oh, good, it was my best friend Tina! We’d been playing phone tag for a few days, and I wanted to talk to her before taking off on this business trip.

“Hey, Tina, you just caught me – I’m getting on the plane right now!”

“I thought I might catch you, Kristie! I hope you have a great trip. I know you’re not particularly excited about all of your meetings, but maybe you can have some fun while you’re there?”

“Yeah, I’m sure I can – maybe I’ll even meet someone new, see where things lead.”

“Hey, maybe you’ll meet someone new on the plane – finally join the mile high club!” Tina said with a chuckle, knowing I was far too straight-laced ever to do such a thing.

“Yeah, right, Tina, I’m sure. After all the uneventful flights I’ve had to and from business meetings, this will be the one where I join the mile high club.” I blushed as I realized that a few people heard me as I walked down the aisle, looking for my seat. Oh well, I’m sure they could tell I was joking.

“OK, I’m at my seat now, I’d better go. I’ll call you when I get there.”

Tina, not ready to stop teasing, said, “OK, but first you have to describe to me the hottie you’ll be sitting next to!”

“Jeez, Tina, why do you take such pleasure in embarrassing me? Luckily for me, there’s nobody in the seat next to me, so I don’t have to answer your question. Bye, I’ll call you when I get there.”

“OK, talk to you soon.”

All kidding aside, I was glad there was nobody sitting next to me. It would be nice to stretch my legs a bit and put my carry-on bag in the seat next to me. I still needed a little time to prepare for my meetings. As soon as the plane was airborne, I pulled out my laptop and started going over my notes.

After about 20 minutes, the flight attendant came by with the beverage cart. “Can I offer you something, miss? Water, juice?”

Pulling my nose out of my laptop, I looked up at her, replying, “Water would be great, thanks.”

“Here you go, miss. Oh, and you’re in seat 34A? I have a note for you from another passenger.”

I was baffled, but took the note from her anyway, unfolded it, and read it as I sipped my water. Most of the water came right back out of my mouth in an unintentional spit-take as the contents of the note sunk in. Not only had someone on the plane heard my ‘mile high’ comment, they appeared to be propositioning me. But who? And was it just a joke?

The note read, “I liked what I heard, and what I saw. I’m in 17F if you’re interested in living out that little fantasy of yours. Walk over here and check me out. If you don’t like what you see, just keep moving, and I’ll leave you alone. If you do, give me a little nod and go back to your seat. I’ll make the next move.”

I could feel the blood rushing to my face, again embarrassed at my careless comment while getting on the plane. But I was also intrigued, and instantly turned on. What harm could it do to just follow the instructions?” If I wasn’t interested once I got there, I could just keep on walking. After what seemed like forever, I got up the courage to put my laptop away and get out of my seat. I killed even more time by stopping in the bathroom, where I splashed some cold water on my face. Nope, it didn’t cool me off. Still hot and bothered, I decided to keep going, and made my way through the aisles to the opposite side of the plane, in search of 17F.

I’m sure my mouth dropped open as I approached the seat and saw the occupant – it was a woman! I had just assumed that the note had come from a man. Shocked as I was, I was still turned on, and gave the hot young woman a little nod. She nodded back in understanding, and I returned to my seat.

“I’ll make the next move,” the note had said. What would she do? When? How would I know? I didn’t have to think about it for very long, as she soon appeared in the aisle next to my seat. “Do you remember me?” she asked me in a perky voice, loud enough for those around us to hear. “Kennedy High School, right?” giving canlı bahis me a glance that suggested I should go along with what she was saying.

“Yeah, hey, great to see you again,” was my reply. “Do you want to join me? There’s nobody in this seat next to me.”

“Sure, that’d be great, give us a chance to catch up.” And with that, she sat down next to me. Passengers in neighboring seats had clearly decided that we were boring, and began putting on their headphones to avoid having to listen to this conversation of 20-somethings catching up from high school. As they were doing that, this stranger sitting next to me whispered to me that her name was Vanessa. She looked to be about 21, with long blonde hair and blue eyes, and an obviously hot body only slightly hidden by the baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants she was wearing for the flight. Me? I’m 23, a natural blonde with green eyes, perky 36C tits, and long lean legs. My comfortable flight outfit was slightly different from hers – I was in a tight-fitting blue t-shirt, a knee-length denim skirt, and boots.

She took the airplane blanket from her seat, unfolded it, and motioned for me to cover myself with it as fully as I could. I did so. She whispered to me that she would keep up the pretense of our conversation, and expected me to as well, but that she would also begin whispering instructions to me, and expected me to follow them.

“So, where are you working now?” was her innocent conversation starter, followed by, in her whispered voice, “Pull up your shirt and start fondling your tits.”

Under cover of the blanket, I followed her first instruction, pulling my tight top over my breasts (I never wear a bra when I fly) so that my hands had access. “I’m in advertising, and I’m actually on a trip to meet with a client,” my proper answer followed.

“That’s cool! I’m just getting my feet wet in real estate.” And after a pause, “Now, you can keep working your tits if you want, but I want you to unzip your skirt, and use one of your hands to reach into your panties and start rubbing your clit.”

“That must be an exciting field,” I replied, trying to contain a sigh as the fingers of my right hand found my hard clit.

“It really is. I get to make my own schedule, and it’s satisfying to help people find their perfect location.” The subtle double-entendre obviously intentional, she continued, “I want you to really start working your clit. Take your hand off your breast, it’s too obvious under the blanket, and I think someone’s coming.”

I quickly shifted my hands so that both were inside my panties, with my left thumb working my clit and a few fingers of my left hand now slipping into my pussy. She was right, this looked less obvious to someone walking in the aisle, as long as I kept my movements slow and steady.

Allowing the innocent conversation to end, as often happens on flights anyway as one or both people get bored, she now just whispered her sexual instructions to me. “Keep going, work it, I want you to be ready for what’s coming. That’s it, real slow and steady.”

What did she mean, what’s coming? And why wasn’t she asking me to do anything for her? But I didn’t care – I was committed to this, no matter what she had planned. I was now rubbing my clit more furiously, but the fingers in my pussy were keeping up their regular calm rhythm. As I arched my back and let my head fall back against my seat, I could feel her move closer to me, whispering in my ear, “Stop. Make yourself decent, and when you’re ready, go up to first class.” With that, she got up and left.

I really didn’t want to stop, as I was well on my way to bringing myself to an orgasm right here in my seat, with unknowing passengers all around me. But I decided to trust that she must have something exciting planned for us. It took me a few minutes to readjust my clothes underneath the blanket and decide that I was presentable enough to get up and walk through the aisles without drawing attention to myself. Thankfully, the flight attendants were all busy getting the food service ready, so none of them noticed as I went through bahis siteleri the curtain separating first class from coach.

Vanessa was already there, in a seat next to a very handsome man, obviously quite a bit older than her – maybe 45? He was dressed for business in a very expensive suit that showed off his athletic physique, and I quickly noticed his deep brown eyes as I came closer to their seats. I also noticed that they were the only passengers in first class, and realized that we could probably do something pretty wild right here without being caught.

Before I could say anything, he addressed me. “Vanessa tells me you’re up for a little excitement on this flight?”

“Oh, yeah,” I replied, “just tell me what you want, I’m ready for anything.”

“Well, I think the flight attendants will be coming through here with the meal service soon, so maybe we should start things with you hidden out of sight. Why don’t you get on all fours and crawl over here, I bet you can get my cock nice and hard while I wait for my meal.”

“Hmm, sounds like a plan,” I said, and quickly followed his instructions. I chuckled to myself as I realized how much more legroom there was in first class – enough to get a blowjob from a girl kneeling in front of you! I was soon positioned on all fours between the two of them, with my ass between Vanessa’s legs and my mouth between his. As I unzipped his slacks and pulled out his flaccid cock, Vanessa spread out another airplane blanket, hiding me – to anyone walking down the aisle, the two of them just looked like a cozy, cuddly couple. I then heard both of them pull down their tray tables, giving me even more protection from detection.

As I began working slowly on his cock, I could hear the flight attendant’s cart make its way towards us. He was just beginning to get hard in my mouth, and Vanessa’s hand was surreptitiously hiking up my skirt, as the flight attendant asked them both, “Chicken or pasta?”

With the utmost innocence, the man (I still didn’t know his name!) asked if they could both have the chicken, but if she could please put their meals off to the side, maybe on one of the empty seats, because right now they just wanted to take a nap.

“Absolutely, sir, I’ll just leave your meals right over here, and I’ll be sure you’re not disturbed until later in the flight.”

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”

As the flight attendant left with her cart, I could hear the tray tables going back up, and then felt Vanessa’s hand slide into my panties. My pussy was still so wet from my earlier masturbation that two of her fingers slid in easily, and she began finger-fucking me hard, which encouraged me to go at his cock with more enthusiasm. He was big – 8 inches at least – but I was now taking his entire length into my mouth with each stroke, and fondling his balls as I sucked.

I could feel him start to thrust, but he quickly stopped himself, obviously wanting to save something for later. Vanessa’s fingers pulled out of me, and they both whispered for me to get up. As I emerged from under the blanket, I could see that they had also pushed back the armrest between them, effectively turning their first-class airplane seats into a big leather sofa.

Vanessa gave me her seat, and took my place kneeling on the floor. I assumed that she was going to take over sucking the man’s cock, but instead she went down on me – the first time a woman had done that! She started with her tongue on my clit, in long, slow licks interrupted occasionally with a teasing nibble. After a few moments, she added her hand, wetting her fingers in my very wet pussy and pushing them into me. Two, three, four fingers of her petite hand were now, again, fucking me as she continued to lick my clit.

I looked over at the man, who was obviously extremely turned on by this action in the seat next to him. I spit on my hand and grabbed his cock, and began working him in long, slow strokes. In return, he leaned down and devoured my right breast, sucking firmly and nibbling on my nipple. This hot threesome, especially with the expert attention bahis şirketleri on my pussy and clit, was beginning to bring me to the edge of a powerful orgasm. I arched my back and moaned, but just as the sound escaped my lips, I could feel the man’s hand cover my mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he whispered, “we’ll get caught.”

I nodded my understanding, remembering where I was, and he took his hand away again. He then tapped Vanessa on the shoulder, and when she looked up at him, whispered, “It’s time.”

With that, Vanessa pulled away from me and stood up. I still wanted, needed, to cum, but I was at the mercy of these two incredibly hot and adventurous people. I wanted either for Vanessa to keep eating my pussy, or for this man to fuck me, but left myself open to whatever they had in mind – they had obviously worked out this fantasy to every detail.

Luckily, they were mind readers. The man motioned for me to get up and stand in front of him. At first I faced him, but he then turned me around, hiked up my skirt, and pushed his hand between my legs, forcing me to spread them, straddling his. With me in this vulnerable position, he reached up, and with one hand on each shoulder, pulled me down onto his cock in one smooth motion. Before I could even catch my breath, his entire length was inside of me, and the feeling of fullness after so much foreplay almost sent me into orgasm instantly.

Vanessa, still on the floor in front of us, started working on both of us as he began to fuck me, slowly at first. Her tongue again found my clit, and as I looked down at her beautiful face, I could see that she was fondling the man’s balls with both hands. Meanwhile, he had reached around and grabbed both of my breasts firmly, using them to encourage my motion up and down on his cock. As we began moving faster, Vanessa was no longer able to keep her tongue on my clit, and instead began stroking it with her thumb. She also let go of his balls as he began to thrust into me, allowing them to slap against me with the end of each long stroke.

The man began to moan softly, and I could feel his hot breath on my back as I began furiously bobbing up and down on his cock. Vanessa, no longer able to keep up with our rapid fucking, stood up in front of me, and I now found her navel directly in front of my face. Although obviously enjoying the show, she was clearly missing out on the action, so I took it upon myself to lick two of my fingers, reach down, and thrust them into her pussy. She responded by spreading her legs slightly, giving me even more access, and I soon had three, then four fingers inside of her, a tight fit, and began fucking her with the same fast rhythm I was using on his cock.

As he fucked me and I fucked her, I could see them looking deep into each other’s eyes. This was obviously the fulfillment of their fantasy, but fortunately I was also getting something out of this whole scenario. As her juices began to flow down around my fingers, dripping down my hand, he moved his hands from my breasts to my hips, and I could tell he was coming close to cumming. With no words, only the sounds of sex overwhelmed the roar of the plane: his cock sliding in and out of my dripping pussy, his balls slapping against my skin, my fingers forcing themselves into her tight pussy.

I was the first to cum, biting my own hand to avoid screaming out with one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. As I reached the end of my climax, I stopped my motion up and down on his cock, and allowed my pulsing pussy muscles to do the rest, clenching around his cock as he shot his cum deep inside of me. Watching the ecstasy on each of our faces, Vanessa let herself go as well, and I felt a rush of juices spill out over my fingers. I’m sure this was just the first of many orgasms for her today as they celebrated the living out of this fantasy.

Knowing that a lot of time had passed and that the flight attendant would surely be back soon, I quickly pulled myself up, pulled down my skirt and top, and made myself as presentable as possible for the walk back to my seat. Realizing my hand was still covered with her cum, I offered it to her to lick her juices from me. As she did, the man, who had also been busy making himself presentable, now whispered to me, simply, “Thank you.”

My reply, also whispered, was, “No, really, thank you.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Note to Self

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Private journal of Anna Volakas

Monday 22nd September, 2014

I feel strange writing this down. No, not strange … guilty. I don’t know why I feel that way, because it doesn’t make sense; but I do know what’s causing it and maybe if I put it on paper then it won’t be in my head any more. Then maybe I can sleep again at night. Let the damn paper feel guilty.

But here’s the thing: I’m not completely sure I want it out of my head. How’s that for messed up? Pretty frickin’ perfect, I should think; perfectly messed up is exactly what it is. The truth? I haven’t felt this excited … this alive … since my honeymoon. I think that’s why I feel guilty; not because what I’m feeling is wrong — I don’t think it is — but because these feelings should be reserved for Nick, my husband.


Shit. I just re-read what I’ve written so far and I sound like a lying, cheating bitch. Even to myself. But I’m not … at least, I’ve taken a long, hard look inside and I don’t believe I am.

What if someone reads this? What if Nick reads this? Holy crap, Nick, are you reading this, baby? I can picture it so clearly; I left this thing lying open, or you went looking in my drawer for my keys, or any one of a million other things that could put this in your hands. Maybe I got killed at work and you’re sifting through my stuff, trying to make sense of the insensible, and this is what you find! Now I feel like an utter turd; part of me wants to tear out this page and burn the fucking thing.

But I have to go on. I have to. Nick, baby, if you are reading this then please keep an open mind. Know that I love you. Always have, always will. Nothing has changed there. But there is something new; something inside me that I have to deal with and it doesn’t affect the way I love you. I’m not trying to make something happen with Susan, but if it did — and I know you probably won’t believe this — then it might actually be good for me. For us. I feel that very strongly.


Damn, clock’s ticking Anna. Forty minutes writing this and so far all you have is a page full of bullshit and innuendo. Maybe it’s time to take a concrete pill — as they say at the station — and harden the fuck up! Okay, here goes: I think I’m a lesbian. A rug-munching, fuzz-bumping, clam-digging, scissor sister! A fucking diesel-dyke copper; what a cliché.

I thought that would make me feel better, but it didn’t. It makes me feel worse, not least of all because it’s not true. I just made myself cry. Good job, Anna.

I’m straight; I like guys.

I like the way they look and I like the way they feel.

I love my husband.

I don’t go for chicks.

I don’t check out their tits or their legs.

I don’t undress them in my mind.

I don’t find them interesting … except for Susan.


Susan is …?



For the life of me I don’t know what’s interesting about a middle-class white woman in suburban America.


It’s not guilt. I just worked that out. I think it’s shame; and that burns so much hotter than guilt. If it was just the incident at the kindergarten barbecue, then maybe it would be guilt. Maybe I could deal with that more easily. Heck, maybe I would have forgotten about it by now. Forgotten about her by now.

It was the dream; that’s what feels shameful … even though it shouldn’t. Nothing that feels that good should feel shameful. If only ‘good’ was all it felt; but it felt right, too.

Shit, I’ve been at this for over an hour now and I’ve gotten exactly nowhere. Are you still reading, Nick? Are you bored yet? Confused? Disgusted? How could you be; I haven’t actually said anything; not anything of substance. Is there even anything substantive to tell? There must be; I can still feel it inside me. I started this wretched journal to get it out where I could deal with, so let’s have at it.

‘The Incident’, capital-I, inverted commas, the works. Geez, chill-pill Anna; it sounds like one of those apocalypse TV dramas like Revolution; where they refer to some shadowy event in the past that wiped out civilization. It was nothing so macabre. I feel like saying something trite like “but it rocked my world”, but it sounds so … well, trite! Even reading it back, it sounds ridiculous, but it’s how I feel. Is that weird? That complex emotions can be so aptly described by a stupid, clichéd phrase? Is anyone still reading? Is Anna ever going to grow a set and actually write down what happened rather than every single fucking girly emotion that courses through her oestrogen-soaked walking corpse?


It was the kindergarten barbecue. It’s Jimmy’s first year at kinder; geez, it seems like he was a baby just last week. The barbecue was put on by the parents’ committee as a getting-to-know-you sort of thing. Most of the Moms turned up and about a third of the Dads; that’s modern parenting for you. Nick was there. I’m proud of him for that. He was probably just networking canlı bahis and drumming up local contracting business; I know how he loves local jobs. He gets to sleep in (until 6:30am! But that’s contracting and he walked into it eyes open) and sometimes he comes home for lunch. I do shifts, so sometimes I’m home when he does; and if I’ve just come off a late-shift and Jimmy is with his Nona then I might still be in bed and … well … I guess I love it too when he has local jobs.

A few of the Moms introduced themselves. I remembered all of their names, but that’s the police training, not because I clicked with any of them. Most of the ones there without husbands were stay-at-home Moms whose lives revolve around their kids. I’m not judging them as more or less worthy than me, we just don’t have a lot in common.

Often at that type of thing, you don’t get to socialize because you’re busy supervising kids; but that’s one attraction of a kinder function: the kids all know each other, they’re locked in, and the play equipment is all age appropriate. I followed Jimmy around for a little while, but he didn’t seem to need me so I drifted away. Like every barbecue in North America since Columbus first lit a fire under a buffalo, the guys gravitated towards the grill and the women moved far enough away so they wouldn’t hear the foul language and prepared way more salad than would actually be eaten.

So of course I grabbed a brew and stepped up to the grill.

Some of the others looked rattled but Nick didn’t bat an eyelid; he knows I work with guys all day and he knows the way cops talk. Heck, we’ve had enough of them around to our house over the years. I was wearing what Nick calls my ‘off-duty uniform’; navy-blue t-shirt, jeans and sunglasses. Exactly the same as the rest of them, in other words … except my jeans were a bit tighter. The t-shirt too, if we’re being honest. God made me 5’3″ with C-cups, and if you can’t hide ’em then you might as well flaunt ’em. All the guys had sunglasses too so I couldn’t see their eyes, but sometimes you don’t need to see to know where they’re looking. And I don’t mind that; it can be creepy when a guy feels you up with his eyes, but it’s kind of sweet when they’re just looking and think you can’t tell. Nick doesn’t mind, thank God; he’s proud of my body, small but toned.

I could tell I was cramping the conversation, but then Nick told them I was a cop and one idiot asked I had my off-duty piece. In a kindergarten, for fuck’s sake!

“What do you think, smart guy?” I laughed to keep it friendly — even though I thought he was an idiot — and held out my arms, turning right and left; my tight t-shirt and jeans made it obvious I wasn’t carrying. “Where do you think I’ve got it stashed?”

Unconsciously, his eyes dropped to my waist — I had invited it after all — and even with the sunglasses on everybody saw him do it.

“Geez, it’s a Beretta, not a fucking Derringer!” I said with mock surprise. “It’s not going to fit up there! Mom warned me to carry protection when I started seeing boys; maybe I misunderstood what she meant.”

The guys all cracked up, and I was happy to see the idiot a bit red-faced. Pretty soon they were back to normal and I was one of the guys; just like on the job.


I just re-read all of that. Funny how it doesn’t mention Susan. I’m such a coward. I’ve run out of time and my shift starts in a couple of hours, so I’ll have to finish this tomorrow.


Private journal of Anna Volakas

Tuesday 23rd September, 2014

New development. I just got an IM.

@Susan.Richards.MD: Hi Anna, sorry again about Sunday. Drinks Fri night? Sus x

Shit, what does that all mean? ‘Sorry’? Is she into that kind of thing and just made a mistake? Or is she hetero and thinks I took it the wrong way? Either way, she knows I’m straight. Drinks? Sure, straight girls do that. Even if they do get off on the wrong foot. It’s not like we parted angry, but we didn’t exactly become BFFs either. Obviously she got my details from the kinder contact list, so she remembered my name. That’s interesting. Unless she picked the only Greek surname off the list and rolled the dice; the black hair and olive skin is a bit of giveaway. So what does all that add up to? Jack shit, that’s what.

But ‘x’? Not an initial, so a kiss? People sign-off like that … I think. Cops don’t. Nobody I know does. Maybe teenagers. But doctors? What does that mean? Want to get some drinks and finish up with some hot tongue action? Shit, I just read that back … I didn’t mean … I just meant kissing. For fuck’s sake, who blushes when they’re on their own?

I can’t think about it now; I still need to write out what happened.


I’m a cheap date. At 114 pounds, one beer is about as much as my system can handle, and ten minutes after I put it in, it wanted to come out the other end. Seems like the only time I can control my bladder is on patrol — because I bahis siteleri have to — but any other time …? It started when I was pregnant, peeing every ten minutes, but Jimmy was nearly five years ago, so things should have returned to normal. It’s a bitch to be me. Pity party for one.

Surprisingly, the kinder actually has a decent adult bathroom. The building isn’t new, so it probably wasn’t always a kindergarten and the two-stall ladies bathroom is a legacy of a previous age. I did my thing and then stood washing my hands in front of the long mirror, looking at my reflection and checking for lines and grey hairs, making sure nothing was sagging that should be firm. I was washed and dry and everything else was five-by. I still looked great.

I was looking at my breasts — hey, I had to keep up with the guys who had been staring all afternoon — and realised they weren’t tender. I’d never had pre-menstrual breast-pain until recently, but probably from the beginning of this summer I’d noticed it, the last day or two before my period. It had returned right on cue the day before the barbecue, but it was gone again and that was weird. I felt them to make sure; gingerly at first, but there was no pain.

“Don’t mind me, I just need to pee.”

Holy fuck, where did you come from? Stealth-Mom! I didn’t even hear the door. She was early thirties like me, about my height or an inch taller, and a similar compact shape without the muscle-tone. But that’s where the similarity ended. She had styled blonde hair that she wore down, just past the shoulder, and she was dressed in a white, sleeveless blouse and soft-pink skirt with pantyhose and a pair of white, wedge sandals.

She looked at me holding my breasts and I saw a slight change in her eyes, a mix of curiosity and maybe concern. “Do you want a hand with that?” she asked without inflection.

What the fuck? Do I want a hand feeling my tits? Jesus!

“Do you want to go fuck yourself?” I shot back deadpan. It was out of my mouth before I could take it back; it was the sort of thing I’d say at work if a crack-whore made the same offer, but this middle-class Mom had surprised it out of me.

That same look of curiosity and concern stayed on her face for a two-count while she processed what I’d said, then her blue eyes bulged comically for a second and her face dropped in horror. Poor thing had probably never heard language like that. And then she surprised me; she burst out laughing. It just exploded from her — this sudden burst of hilarity — and her face transformed from horror to outright glee. God only knows what my face looked like; I’d just been lesbo-propositioned in a kindergarten bathroom, told a soccer-Mom to fuck herself, and now I was getting laughed at.

“Oh shit! Whoops!” she clutched her groin, still giggling uncontrollably. “I almost peed myself. Give me a moment.” And then she ran into the stall and slammed the door.

I heard the sounds of cotton and nylon and she did battle with her skirt and pantyhose while she talked in broken half-sentences.

“I’m so sorry,” she began. “I don’t know how that must have … I mean, I’m not … I didn’t … Oh flip, now I can’t pee. Shut up a minute …”

I don’t know why she was telling me to shut up; I hadn’t said anything since I told her to fuck herself. A moment later, she got started and I heard a soft sigh of relief.

“I’m Susan,” she said through the door. “Zack’s Mom. I think I introduced myself earlier.” (She hadn’t) “I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine what you must have thought. It’s just … I saw you doing a breast exam and it looked … well it looked like you hadn’t done one before.”

That was actually true. Nick examined them regularly and in minute detail, though possibly not for lumps or anomalies. Since Jimmy was weaned, I’ve pretty much left them to their own devices. I was deeply regretting what I’d said at this point; how could I have thought she was propositioning me?

“Um … no, I’m … um sorry,” I stumbled through an apology. If it was my son doing it, I would have made him start over.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” she laughed. I heard the sound of tearing toilet paper and then she paused again before resuming over the flushing toilet. “The look on your face was priceless, and I completely deserved it.” She paused while I listened to her fight again with the pantyhose and getting her skirt back down over her hips.

She came out smiling with roses in her cheeks and looked at me in the mirror. I felt a little pang of jealousy at her blonde good-looks; petite and feminine, she was the quintessential yummy-Mommy.

“I’m a doctor,” she explained. “I have women parading around in my exam-room with their boobs hanging out all day, so showing them how to examine themselves is the most natural thing in the world for me.” She shrugged as she dried her hands with a ‘what-can-you-do?’ gesture. “I just spend so much of my life with patients, sometimes I forget how to relate to real people.” Then bahis şirketleri she smiled again, “So when I ask to feel your boobs, it’s just how doctors say hello.”

“Right,” I said flatly. “Well I’m a cop. I spend my days with crack-whores and dealers, so when I tell you to go fuck yourself, that’s just how cops say hello.” I couldn’t help a smirk at the end of that. We’d just both done what comes most naturally, and in retrospect, it was kind of funny.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” she said. I hadn’t told her yet, but doctors probably weren’t as good with names as cops; they dealt with one person at a time and had all their details on a clipboard. Or so I believed from watching TV dramas.

“Anna Volakas,” I said, still looking at her in the mirror. “Sergeant.”

“Susan Richards,” she replied, smiling. “M.D.” There was a little flicker of ironic acknowledgement in her eyes, suggesting we both knew it was absurd to be using titles at a kindergarten barbecue, but still we couldn’t help ourselves. Curse of the career woman. Obviously I had mis-characterized her as a soccer-Mom.

“So did you …,” she searched for the words, “… um, want to?”

“Want to what?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Learn how to do a self-examination,” she smiled, and then holding up her hands, “I won’t touch. Promise. Learned my lesson the first time.”

I didn’t really want to talk about breasts with this unusual woman at all, but she had completely disarmed me with her wit and that almost hysterical outburst of laughter. Part of me was curious; I knew it was something I had been ignoring for a long time that I really should learn, but it wasn’t like I was ever going to have an idle moment when I would decide to look it up for myself.

“Fuck it,” I breathed. “Okay. What do I have to do?”

“What? Oh, okay,” she smiled. “I didn’t think you were going to. You just had that look.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I said.

“Right, well. First thing: you don’t just feel,” she began in a brisk tone, unbuttoning her blouse and pulling it untucked from her skirt. “You need to look as well, and you can’t do either properly wearing a bra.”

Shit, I didn’t see this coming. I just met the woman, I wasn’t really planning on having a titty tea-party with her. I felt a moment of reluctance when an icy shiver went down my back, but then I had to smile inwardly; how many times had I had them out when Jimmy was breast-feeding? That was a few years ago now, but it seems some of the dignity that fled my life the day I lay on a bed with a doctor, Nick, and two midwives staring up my twat was finally growing back. What the hell, I said to myself; I could get the girls out for another public performance. Just this once, by popular demand.

“I teach a three-step exam, rather than the five-step,” she explained. “A lot of women promise they’ll do weekly exams to your face, but then life takes over and they forget, so simpler is better.”

Susan was pulling off her blouse already as she talked to me in the mirror, revealing an expensive, lacy white bra. Such a typical suburban yummy-Mommy. The pink skirt hugging her slim hips contrasted with the creamy, white flesh of stomach; perfectly flat and not a hint of muscle — how did she get it that flat without crunches? Everywhere else was soft curves. Her waist wasn’t angled like mine; it was just a continuation of the gentle curve of her hips that flowed smoothly out again at her breasts: round and full B-cups, snugly tucked into a pretty girlie bra that she picked out precisely for the reason that it could be shown off through the blouse.

“I’ll just show you number one and two,” she went on. “One is in the shower and two is in the mirror. Three is in bed, so we can leave that one until we get to know each other a bit better,” she joked. At least it sounded like a joke.

Throwing modesty to the wind, I pulled my t-shirt over my head to reveal my highly practical and comfortable black lycra bra, just as she was reaching behind to unclasp that Victoria’s Secret page three special.

Susan shrugged off her shoulder straps, and cupping it in both hands she lowered it to reveal her breasts, round and full at the bottom with a ski-jump curve on top. With my fingers working at the clasp on my own bra, I froze, an unfamiliar shiver pricking goose-bumps on my arms and making the little hairs stand on end.

Oh my God. They match!

The thought was so clear and real, I wondered for moment if it had come out of my mouth. Her areolae were tiny, about the size of pennies, with small, slightly upturned nipples at the center of each — so small and perfect, it was hard to believe they’d ever seen the inside of a baby’s mouth. But the thing that stopped me was the color; it was the exact shade of pink as her skirt.

My own skin is a Mediterranean olive brown — almost dark enough for skinhead Nazi punks to call me ‘colored’, but really no more than the deep tan that an Anglo can go if they see a lot of sun. I guess I’ve seen white girls’ tits before — mostly at night busting street walkers who won’t get a fucking room — but I haven’t ever been affected like that. It was actually scary; I could feel my jugular throbbing in my neck.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

müzik öğretmenimle ilk

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Ben 17 yaşında Eskişehirde oturan pasif bir gayim. Sizlerle ilk ilişkimi paylaşacağım. 16 yaşımda müzik hocamla yaşadım. Müzik hocam bana ve birkaç arkadaşıma derslerimizde yardımcı olurdu. O gün diğer çocuklar gelmedi ben yalnız gittim. Beraber ders çalıştık. Ben su içmek için kalkınca bacağıma kramp girdi. Kramp kartal escort geçince agrısı devam etti. O, masajla geçer dei.uzandım masaj yapmaya başladı. Baya iyi geldi. Böyle zor oluyo sen pantalonunu çıkar dedi. Aklımda kötülük olmadığı için çıkardım.Masaja devam etti, elleri yukarlara çıkmaya başladı. derken ataşehir escort kalçalarımı okşamaya başlayınca arkama dönüp napıyonuz dedim.onun eşofmanını sıyırmış ve organının dışarda olduğunu gördüm. birden boxerımı sıyırdı ve üstüme abandı. onun sikini deliğimde hissettim. Sıcak ve sertti. deliğime bastırmaya maltepe escort başladı. çok güçlüydü kurtulmam imkansızdı. zorluyordu ama girmiyordu. çok canımı acıtıyordu. Artık gücüm bitmişti kendimi bıraktım. Deliğimin esnediğini ve başının içime girdiğini anladım. Acıdan öleceğimi sanmıştım. ve zorlaya zırlaya baya soktu. Çekmeye başlayınca rahatladım. tam bitti derken bu sefer daha hızlı ve sert soktu bu sfer dha çok girdi. 8- 10 kere daha girdi ve içime boşaldı. sonra üzerime kapanıp ağlamaya başaldı. işte ilk ilişkim böyle oldu. hepsi gerçektir. sevgi ve saygılar.Gönderen: sedat temur

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Köpeğimle 2

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

April Oneil

Geçen hafta sonu Sandra bize geldi. Annemler yoklardı. 3 saatliğine dışarı çıkmışlardı. Köpeğim Tedy her zaman olduğu gibi Sandranın ayakkabılarını yalamaya başladı. Salona geçtik. 2 şişe bira açtık kanepeye oturduk. Sandra Tedyi çağırdı. Oda hemen gelip ayaklarımızın önüne yattı ve sanki hadi beni ezin zevklendirin diye yüzümüze bakıyordu zavallı. Sandra hemen işe koyuldu ve penisini ezmeye başladı. Sandranın ayakları arasından Tedynin penisi büyümüş ve dışarıya taşmıştı. Sandrada bir yandan birasını içiyor bir yandanda ayaklarıyla Tedyi tatmin ediyordu. Bende Sandranın dudaklarına yapıştım ve dillerimiz birbirine kenetlenmişti. Çok geçmeden Tedy Sandranın ayaklarına boşalıverdi. Sandra deli olmuştu kartal escort zevkten ve hemen vakit kaybetmeden Tedynin penisini tutup emmeye başladı. penisini köküne kadar ağzına sokuyordu bende ayak parmaklarımla taşaklarını eziyordum. Çok geçmeden Tedy Sandranın ağzına boşaldı. Sandrada emmeye devam ediyordu. Bende yeter dur hayvan bir rahatlasın dedim. Oda gülmeye başladı. Sonra işi ben ele aldım.Köpeğimin penisini naylon çoraplı ayaklarımla okşamaya başladım. Hemen büyüdü. Sandrada eğilip ucunu emmeye ve yalamaya başladı. Ayaklarımın arasında penisini sıkmaya başladım Tedyde yalanmaya başladı çok zevk aldığı belliydi. Sandra penisini sanki yutacakmışcasına kuvvetlice vakum gibi emiyordu. ataşehir escort Bende ikimizde çok ıslanmıştık. Sandra hadi içime sok dedi. Bende Tedynin penisini elimle tutup Sandranın götüne sokmaya başladım. Sokup çıkarttıkça Sandra inliyordu ve birde Tedy boşaldı. Sonra Sandranın götünü yalayarak temizledi. Sandra sırt üstü yattı ve amını Tedye açtı. Tedy hemen yalamaya başladı ve dilini çok güzel kullanıyordu. Zımpara gibi diliyle Sandrayı doruğa çıkarttı ve boşaltmayı başardı. Şimdi sıra bendeydi. Sandra penisini tutup ağzıma verdi ve em hadi çabuk dedi. Vakum gibi çek içine dedi bende ne derse yapıyordum. Birden ağzım köpeğimin spermleriyle dolmuştu. Tükürmeye fırsat bulamadan Sandra maltepe escort dudaklarıma yapıştı ve ağzımı emmeye başladı. Bütün spermi ağzımdan kendi ağzına aldı ve yemeğe başladı sonra tekrar beni öpmeye başladı. Çok zevk almıştık. Tady nefes nefese yerde yatıyordu. Sandra doymamıştı ve gene Tedynin penisine yapışarak emmeye başladı. Ben tuvalete gittim gelene kadar Tedy 2 defa daha boşalmış hayvan artık pes etmişti. Onu bıraktık. Sandra ile yere yattık birbirimizin amını emmeye başladık. Harika yalıyordu ve dilini çok iyi kullanıyordu. Bende ondan aşağiya kalmamaya çalışıyordum ve aynı anda boşalıverdik. Sonra bana gel buraya ayak fetişistim dedi. Ayaklarıyla beni tatmin etmeye başladı. Başım dönüyordu ve çok zevk alıyordum. Ayağında kilotlu çorap vardı çok zevk veriyordu delirmiştim ve şiddetli şekilde titreyerek boşaldım ayaklarına. Artık yorulmuştuk. Annemler gelecekti ve hemen toparlandık. Sandra evine gitti. Bende sıcak bir duştan sonra kendimi yatağa attım, uyumuşum.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ekinlerin Arasında

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Slm.ben 20 yaşında oldukça yakışıklı bir gencim,okuyanların bence ağzı açık kalacak.günlerden pazardı,okullar tatildi ben ve gülizar aynı okulda okuyorduk.açıkcası ikimizde birbirimizi istiyorduk.ben tatili fırsat bilerek gülizar gilin evlerinin önünde dolaşmaya başladım,biliyordum gülizar evde duramazdıo sıra dışarı çıktığını gördüm,yanına gittim bana ne işin var burda dedi,bende sıkılmadan seni görmeye geldim dedim.bana gülümseyerek tamam gel bakalım dedi ama korkuyordu,çünki babası sert otoriter8li bir kişiydi,ben babasını bile takmıyordum,çünki gülizarı sikmeyi o kadar çok istiyordum ki sizlere anlatamam,tam kartal escort bir lolitaydı.neyse biraz yürüdük onların evinin ilerisindeki ekin tarlasına geldik benim aklım sadece onu nasıl sikecegimi düşünmekle meşkuldü,ona yaklaşarak yanaklarından öptüm,bana bir tokat attı yapma birdaha dedi ama bu tokat beni okadar heyecanlandırmıştı ki,dahada azdırdı.artık dayanamadın onu zorla ekin tarlasına kattım,az önce tokat atan kız sanki kudurmuş gibi pantolonumu indirdi ve baksırımın içinden o kocaman sikimi çıkarttı ve yalamaya başladı,biliyordum ilk sikişmesiydi onun ben tecrübeliydim çünki nerdeyse konyada ataşehir escort bir çok kişiyle yattım,neyse benim küçük lolitam yalamaya devam etti ben ise onu yitekliyerek istemiyormuş gibi davranıyordum çünki o dahada azıyordu,ayağa kalkarak dudaklarıma yapıştı,dilimi içine çekerek adeta somuruyordu,artık hazırdı,ben hemen onusoydum çırılçıplak karşımdaydı,ne yapacağımı iyi biliyordum,eğildim amını yalamaya başladım delirmiştik ikimizde,sularını salmaya başlamıştı benimki sadece kalmıştı çünki ben geç boşalan birisiydim bu yüzden kızların dulların çogu beni çok arzulardı,her neyse,ben gülizarın maltepe escort o daracık amını yaladıktan sonra yarağımı içine yavaş yavaş sokup çıkartıyordum ilk önce onu götten sikecektim,sikimi tekrar ağzına verdim kökledi girtlağına kadar dayadım sikimi çıkartıp domalttım,götü harikaydı yaladım,ıslattım kafasını yavaşca içine yiteledim,zorda olsa soktum ve aniden kökledim hiç bukadar zevke gelmemiştim onu dakikalarca götten siktim,amından sikmemi söyledi bende kızsın olmaz dedim olsun diyerek yarragğımı alıp amına kendi soktu dayanamadım artık kökledim biraz sonra kanayan amını gördüm ve çekildim.bundan sonra okulda sınıfta,labratuarda hatta müdür odasında bile defalarca siktim onu,aradan geçen günler beni ona karşı istekli olduğumu arttırdı.bu arada lolitamın annesi ve ablasınıda defalarca siktim.bunları daha sonra anlatacağım.beni nerdeyse tüm kadınlar arzular ama seçerim.Gönderen: BAHA

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Seviyorum İşte Ahh Ah

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Okulumuza yeni bir İngilizce öğretmeni gelmişti. Derse ilk girer girmez aşık oldum. Ama bir türlü söyleyemedim. Söyleyemezdim de zaten. O bir öğretmendi. Hem de evliydi. Ama bu benim umurumda değildi. Ona nasıl açılacağımı düşünüyordum. Derste hep gözlerine bakıyordum. Sevgimi anlasın diye. Ya anlamıyordu, ya da anlamamazlıktan geliyordu. Haziran ayında okulumuzun Kapadokya gezisi vardı. İki günlüktü. Yani bir gece otelde kalacaktık. Bu geziye gitmeliydim. Çünkü İngilizce öğretmenimiz de gidecekti. Hemen parayı yatırdım ve geziye kaydımı yaptırdım. O gün gelip çatmıştı. heyecanla kalktım ve okulun yanındaki otobüse bindim. heyecandan kalbim yerinden çıkacaktı sanki. Sabahleyin yola çıktık. 5 saat sonra oradaydık. Kaymaklı ve Derinkuyu yeraltı kentlerini gezdik. Akşam oldu. otele geldik. Herkes istediği restaurantta akşam yemeğini yedi. Gece 10`da diskoya gittik kartal escort okul olarak. Öğretmenim de oradaydı. Loş ışık vardı. Dikkatli bakmayında kişiler tanınmıyordu. Gümbür gümbür bir müzik vardı. Birçok kişi çılgınca dans ediyordu. Bizim okul iki masa olmuştu. Ben bilerek öğretmenimin olduğu masaya oturdum. Aramızda bir öğrenci vardı. Yani ona çok yakındım. Herkes dans etmeye başladı. Ben de öğretmenime teklif ettim. Kabul etti. Çok sevinmiştim. Beni kollarına aldı. Diğer öğrenciler de öğretmenlerle dans ediyordu. Ben iki kolumu birden boynuna doladım. Artık vücutlarımız daha yakındı. İyice öğretmenime sarıldım. Memelerimin ve vücudumun sıcaklığını hissetmişti. Çok etkilendi. Hissettim. Siki kazık gibi olmuştu. Artık bir hayal alemindeydim. İçim ılık ılık olmuştu. Kendimden geçmiştim.Otele döndüğümüzde İngilizce öğretmenimin yalnız kaldığı ataşehir escort odanın kapısını çaldım. Öğretmenim beni karşısında görünce şaşırdı. Ama ben hemen içeri daldım. Bana hayır demesine fırsat vermeden. Kapıyı kapattı. Öylece bana bakakalmıştı. Ben hemen dudaklarına yapıştım. O da daha fazla dayanamadı ve karşılık verdi. Artık ateşlice öpüşüyorduk. Hemen yatağa kendimizi attık. Elbiselerimi öğretmenim tek tek çıkardı. Tadını çıkara çıkara. Herhalde ilk kez bir öğrencisiyle yatacaktı. Acemiliği belliydi. Hiç konuşmuyorduk. Önce memelerimi yalamaya başladı. Çok hoşlanmıştım. Zevkten uçuyordum. Aylardır bunun hayalini kurmuştum. Şimdi gerçekleşiyordu. Sonra külotumu çıkardı. Amıma şaşkın şaşkın baktı. Övünmek gibi olmasın. Benim amım çok güzeldir. Sonra yalamaya başladı. Elleriyle de memelerimi okşuyordu. Sonra ben onun sikini elime maltepe escort aldım. İyice kalkmıştı. Yalamaya başladım. Hepsini ağzıma alamıyordum. Çok harikaydı siki. Beni sırtüstü yatağa yatırdı. Bacaklarımı omzuna aldı. kız mısın, diye sordu. Evet, dedim. Sana feda olsun, diye de ekledim.Sikinin ucunu amıma değdirdi. Ben delirecek gibi oldum. Biraz sonra hepsi amıma girecekti. Hiç yarak yemediğim için zor olacaktı, ama ben kararlıydım. Bu odadan boş ayrılmayacaktım. Sikinin ucunu amıma soktu. Siki daha engelle karşılaşmamıştı. Yani kızlık zarıma dayandı. Hadi öğretmenim, canım erkeğim, sok hadi. Korkma, seni şikayet etmem. Bana kadınlığı sen tattır, dedim. O da son bir hamleyle sikinin hepsini amıma soktu. Canım biraz acıdı ama değdi doğrusu. Sonra zevk almaya başladım. Öğretmenim durmadan sikini amıma sokup sokuş çıkarıyordu. İkimiz de çok zevk alıyorduk. Siki kan olmuştu ama o hiç aldırmıyordu. Habire beni sikiyordu. Herkese de öğretmenine sikilmek nasip olmaz. Ama bana olmuştu. Ben çok şanslıydım. Beni bandıra bandıra sikti. O gece 4 kez sikti beni. Hoşçakalın……. Öğretmeninizi seviyorsanız, ne bekliyorsunuz?………Gönderen: sevgi

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32