Protein Shake

The anniversary date is approaching four years, but I can remember it as if it was yesterday.

I was visiting my sister and her husband in Georgia. They live on a barrier island near Savannah, Georgia, and I was visiting for St. Patrick's Day. While visiting, I stayed on the futon in the living room. We had stayed out late into the night on St. Patrick's Day it is a really big deal in Savannah and I woke up with a bit of a hangover.

Truthfully, I had a bit of a buzz from the night before. I was in the kitchen making coffee and starting my breakfast. I was reaching to get a glass from the kitchen cabinet, when I heard the rustling of papers. I turned my head around to see my brother-in-law looking at me from over his paper. He was in the living room reading the morning paper.

It was fairly early in the morning, so I did not have my robe on, so my brother-in-law who I will call David for the sake of the story saw me in a fairly skimpy nightie. Because I was reaching for the glass, I am sure my nondescript cotton-white panties were in full view.

I returned to the living room to get my robe on, making me feel more comfortable and less revealed.

"Thanks for the show," Dave mused. "Dave, you are such a pervert," I retorted. Dave answered, "I was not in the kitchen in that nightie."

Brushing my hair behind my right ear, I said, "Yes, you would certainly be a pervert if you were in this."

I heard the shower in the master bathroom turn on. "Not my color," Dave through back at me.

At that point, I cannot explain why I did this. Maybe it was because my sister was taking a shower and could not hear the banter.

Maybe I was still a little drunk. But for whatever reason, I approached Dave and kneeled down on the floor next to him.

"You are in my bed, sweetie," I told him, looking directly into his dark brown eyes.

My sister hated when I called Dave sweetie, but I knew he liked it.

"There is room for two," he suggested, but I just looked at him again.

"No thanks," I answered.

Then I reached into his shorts, and started massaging his penis.

He looked like a frightened deer. He loved my sister , I knew that. I loved her, too.

But then I took his penis into my mouth, and he was silent.

He was hard in an instant. I rolled his penis in my mouth slowly. I touched every part of it with my tongue.

I began to suck it, and I knew he would not stop me. He was silent during my oral gift, and when he came, I fixed my mouth tight around him, catching every last drop.

I swallowed, grinned and thanked him for my morning treat. In the background, I heard the water shut off from the master bathroom. I tied my robe tightly around my waist.

There was moisture between my legs, and really wanted Dave to be inside of me. But I did not want to get caught.

I retreated to the kitchen, starting to make bacon and eggs. When my sister came into the kitchen, she asked why I was cooking bacon, knowing that I don't eat much meat.

"I wanted my protein this morning," was my reply. The taste of her husband was still in my mouth when I said that.

The rest of the week, Dave tried being alone with me, but I would not allow that. I was not ready for him to take it to the next level.

---

I have found a new, free sex game (new to me, not new to everyone). It is called Viva-Ponata.

If you have not heard of it, you can check it out at the following link:

http://viva-ponata.com/register.php?REF=13607

If you use the link, I get credit for the referral (if you reach level 5), and I get 25 diamonds (which is a type of currency in the game).

The game is a sort of a sexual simulation game. You pick your name, you can earn money by performing various illegal acts (selling Viagra, stolen DVDs, turning tricks). And you also can enhance your appearance (which adds to your beauty, so you can get a better job, for instance). I am a fairly tame character in real life, so this allows me to let my hair down. I mean, I look forward to turning tricks – someone has to choose your ass among all the prostitutes working the streets.

I am by no means an expert at the game, but it is a fun diversion. If you want to try it, sign up (free), and write me or my online spouse. We can help you out.

Computer Chat

"IC!," I type into the computer.

"Yes, my love," is his tender reply.

I know he is chatting with many others in this room, publicly and privately, but he always manages to respond to my questions and comments.

IC! and I have sort of a strange relationship.

I would call it father-daughter, because he is almost my father's age, give eight to ten years.

But it definitely is not father-daughter because we flirt on line.

A lot.

He knows I have a pretty good marriage, but the coals are growing cool.

I have thought about seducing my best friend, and I am not sure if he knows my best friend is female.

You see, you can be sort of obtuse on line.

Not really devious, but misleading to a fault.

Now I have told him my age - and that was mostly true.

I said I was 28, and I was.

I turned 29 last December, so I am almost thirty.

And my weight was within five pounds.

I don't consider that an outright lie.

A computer would, but computers do not have to squirm into their jeans when they have too many chocolate desserts.

Now I would not lie about my eye color - they sparkle blue; nor my hair, brunettes, I assure you, have more fun.

So we are chatting.

Flirting.

He is always peeking down my shirt, and I have gotten in the habit of now wearing a bra when I am on the computer.

Does he see this - no.

But I feel it, and I do not have to lie when I inform him he may have had a glimpse of a free tit.

So, here we are, bantering about how smart we are, how most of the other people on here are 14-year old pimple-faced geeks.

Sort of sad, sometimes, considering I am "wasting" the same amount of time, trying to convince myself that it is more valuable because I am not engaged in cyber-sex all of the time.

As I am chatting, I have another open window in my browser.

I really can't hold my concentration on one thing for more than a minute. I search for erotic stories, and while the search engine does its work, I fire off a response to IC!:

"Dear, have your sores all healed?" I am such a smart-ass.

Then I click to the other window, and click on one of the matches.

Camilla's something or other.

Instead of seeing just text-based lists, I am treated to a frame with lots of choices.

I want to click the contents menu, just wanting to read a bit of smut, when I come across something from the web-publisher.

Sure, I think, and I click on that page.

A picture of the hostess? Sure, and I click on it, thinking I will be treated to a driver's license-style shot.

Then her ass begins to load, large and plump.

White.

Now, I was not looking for pictures, but she stops me mid-click.

I start to tingle.

I click through several more pictures, amazed that I am staring at a woman and I am getting excited.

Not a woman I know, but a woman in cyber-space.

She looks like a younger, more attractive version of a co-worker.

Someone I have been having some trouble with at work.

The resemblance is remarkable.

IC! breaks my concentration with, "Can you believe this guy? He really thinks you are going to fall for that line!"

I have to scroll up to see which body part IC! is talking about, and I am mildly grossed out.

"Thanks for defending my honor," I type back.

And I look back at the other screen.

My hand extinctively makes its way to my crotch, and I am slightly surprised to remember that I am wearing a skirt.

I usually wear long dresses.

Friday is casual day, I remember.

I create a crease in my panties between my labial lips.

I have not done this in ages, I reflect.

I look at my office door.

Unlocked but closed.

Darn.

But I continue pleasing myself.

Ten minutes before my break, anyway.

I type to IC! slowly, with my free hand, "You are my hero."

Then the action phrase, Leesa leans over and kisses IC! on the cheek.

Then peek-a-boo, meaning he can see a bare tit if he looks.

Guys all over the world think we are so unaware of what they see, or what we let them see.

"Nice," he types, and I look back at the picture of the web mistress.

Her breasts have to be fake, I think to myself.

My finger continues to work at my panties.

IC! then types, "I got something on my glasses.

Do you have anything to wipe them off?"

"'Fraid, not" is my response. I click back to the picture.

My finger continues to probe.

Just then my door opens and this copycat co-worker is at my desk.

I know my hair looks a fright.

She smiles, then tells me we have a meeting with the boss in ten minutes.

I thank her; she turns on her heels and leaves.

Then I check myself.

Skirt is in place, amazingly.

Shit, I think.

One of my blouse buttons came undone, and she got a full view of my right breast.

I did not even notice the button came undone.

And I am sure I looked flushed.

Make a note:

wear bras when at work, and sew a snap near the second button on this blouse.

---

I have found a new, free sex game (new to me, not new to everyone). It is called Viva-Ponata.

If you have not heard of it, you can check it out at the following link:

http://viva-ponata.com/register.php?REF=13607

If you use the link, I get credit for the referral (if you reach level 5), and I get 25 diamonds (which is a type of currency in the game).

The game is a sort of a sexual simulation game. You pick your name, you can earn money by performing various illegal acts (selling Viagra, stolen DVDs, turning tricks). And you also can enhance your appearance (which adds to your beauty, so you can get a better job, for instance). I am a fairly tame character in real life, so this allows me to let my hair down. I mean, I look forward to turning tricks – someone has to choose your ass among all the prostitutes working the streets.

I am by no means an expert at the game, but it is a fun diversion. If you want to try it, sign up (free), and write me or my online spouse. We can help you out.

Letter to Josette Part II

You then disappear for a few moments.

You come back, this time with a shade of my lipstick on your lips, I spy through my napkin-blindfold.

Then you kiss my neck, my breast, apply some more lipstick, then several times down my stomach, towards my grassy knoll.

Then apply some more lipstick and kiss my legs.

I become concerned.

"This isn't funny.

Untie me so I can clean myself up. Untie me so I can please you, too."

You laugh, insert your finger inside of me, then lick your finger.

"You are the first woman I have tasted, besides myself on my lovers' lips."

Then we here another set of keys in the front door, and you race out the back way, through the sliding glass window that you are unable to re-lock.

Andrew is home, but the chain keeps him from entering.

"Jo. Let me in," he asks.

He yanks at the door, frustrated.

In a moment Andrew abandons the front door and makes his way around back.

He lets himself in, and is surprised to find me in my current state.

"What were you doing while I was gone, Jo?," Andrew asks in disbelief.

I did not know what to say.

I did not want to tell him that Lisa did this to me, not knowing how he would react.

My mind races. "I asked a friend to help make this a more wonderful fantasy," I finally offer my husband.

Instead of being angry or jealous, he removes the blindfold.

He kisses me tenderly, always kissing me tenderly after we have been separated for a while.

He quickly disrobes, first showing his fully-developed chest, then his hairy legs.

His plain white Jockey shorts are off in an instant, and he again kisses me.

He starts kissing my lap, working his tongue around the ropes which still bind me to the chair.

My eyes are closed, as I fantasize about the whole thing.

His warm, slobbery tongue parts my vagina, and he begins playing with my labial lips.

I open my eyes for a moment and spy you looking in the sliding glass window from the bushes.

Andy forgot to draw the curtains. Instead of shocked, I am more excited.

As Andrew licks me into cumming, I wonder whose name I should shout out, my husband's or yours.

I am still a coward, so I pick Andrew's, and as I cum Andy is already wanting to mount me in the chair.

He rises, and starts kissing my mouth with hungry kisses.

His hands almost attach my breasts, and I am in ecstasy.

As he gets ready to mount me, I see his whole naked body, his hard, firm penis with its massive head, his muscles rippling to his command.

He sits on me and slowly guides his penis into me.

Because of the positioning, he cannot penetrate me fully, which makes this position so wonderful.

He begins his strokes, and he deposits a kiss upon my lips.

Now I am comparing his kisses to yours, Lisa.

His kisses are strong, forceful.

His tongue almost wrestles mine, while your tongue explored cautiously.

His penis comes out for a moment, as his strokes were increasing, but he manages to snake it back into my being.

I almost want it to come out again, brushing against my vaginal lips and making me shiver.

Andrew comes out again, and this time he seems more frustrated.

He decreases his strokes as he enters me once more.

His chest brushes against my breasts, him wanting to feel myself against him.

He kisses my neck with hard, wet kisses.

I shudder and look over my shoulder, and I spy you again.

My husband begins to cum and I look at you.

I can feel his hot juice fill my cavity.

Then he kisses my lips, drawing my attention away from you from outside of the window.

Andrew then glances out the window, and says a quick, "Oh, shit."

I am afraid he spots you, but he just does not want the neighbors to see.

He withdraws from me quickly, wanting to close the window.

I wonder if you are looking at my husband closes the window.

I am sure, if you are, you are getting an excellent view of his penis dangling limp after the excitement.

And the thought of you viewing my husband is exciting, too. I am overdosing on excitement right now.

Your husband pulls she curtains closed, shielding me from further viewing.

But I begin to replay what I have seen.

What a wonderful show.

The next day, as I am sitting home watching soaps, I decide to call you.

It seems this day everyone on television is jumping into bed with someone, and I want to ask you about how you were feeling.

"Horney," was your one-word response, and you asked me to come over so you could tie me up.

Needless to say, I was over in a flash.

You greeted me at the door with a kiss, and you nearly pulled my arm out of the socket dragging me in.

You were wearing an old, comfortable-looking robe, with your long, brown hair cascading over your shoulders.

Your glasses, as I looked at you, were not on your face. It looked almost as if I woke you up.

"Could you do something for me?" you coed, stiffling a yawn.

I knodded, and you asked me to undress.

Timidly, loking down, I began to unbutton my white cotton oxford-cloth shirt.

I could feel your eyes buring into my flesh as I was performing this task.

You came closer to me, kissed me on the neck, and touched my still-covered left breast.

You helped me out of my shirt, and you turned me around to undue the hook on my bra, letting the bra slowly loosen from my body.

You lightly scratched the middle of my back with your fingernails. A chill ran the length of my spine and I shuddered.

Then we made our way to the bed.

As you were studying me, you asked softly, "Why did you approach me, kiss me, touch me, when I was tied up to the chair?"

"I suppose you looked helpless."

"Was it exciting?"

"Yes, it was," I answered.

---

I have found a new, free sex game (new to me, not new to everyone). It is called Viva-Ponata.

If you have not heard of it, you can check it out at the following link:

http://viva-ponata.com/register.php?REF=13607

If you use the link, I get credit for the referral (if you reach level 5), and I get 25 diamonds (which is a type of currency in the game).

The game is a sort of a sexual simulation game. You pick your name, you can earn money by performing various illegal acts (selling Viagra, stolen DVDs, turning tricks). And you also can enhance your appearance (which adds to your beauty, so you can get a better job, for instance). I am a fairly tame character in real life, so this allows me to let my hair down. I mean, I look forward to turning tricks – someone has to choose your ass among all the prostitutes working the streets.

I am by no means an expert at the game, but it is a fun diversion. If you want to try it, sign up (free), and write me or my online spouse. We can help you out.

Letter to Josette Part I

This letter was written to a girlfriend of mine.

I never sent it to her or told her I fantasized about her. But I thought about her, as you can tell from this story-letter:

Josette:

I was dreaming about you last night.

It was a bizarre dream, but everything about you is bizarre.

All right, here it goes . . .

At first, I am with Andrew in our home.

We are playing one of our kinky fantasy games, where Andrew is the robber, and he ties me nude to one of my heavy oaken dining room chairs.

I have lost complete control because he has secured me tightly to the chair with some thin black rope.

The passion slowly rises as he tells me to stay quiet, and I feel the ropes around my waist, constricting my wrists, and near my pelvic region.

In fact, one strand of the rope is buried in my vagina, tied their, on purpose, no doubt, by my husband-thief.

He takes a large cotton napkin, folds it into a blindfold, and ties it tightly around my head, covering my eyes.

Andrew, standing behind me now, whispers into my ear, "Ask me to fuck you."

I can feel his breath as it blows the hair by my neck lightly, tickling me and sending a chill down my spine.

Timidly I reply, "Please, don't. Take anything in the house and leave."

My robber-husband gently kisses my earlobe and repeats, "Ask me to fuck you."

He pauses, then says sterner, "Now."

"Okay, take me," I say softly, my words falling from my lips.

His hand cups my right breast, and he is about to say something else.

But the phone rings.

"Don't answer it," I say to Andy, my concentration broken.

He kisses my head, says, "Be right back," and then answers the telephone.

I hear him talking to someone, and, from the sounds of things, it is work-related.

I really don't want him to leave, us not having much time together as it is, but I sense that my husband will be going out of the door any second.

After he hangs up the receiver, he says to me, "I am going to leave you tied up for now.

I think it will build up the suspense until I return.

I have got to go into the office for about an hour.

I will come back and finish what I have started."

In a few minutes, he is dressed and out of the door.

And I am alone, helpless, blindfolded.

As the minutes go by, I find myself thinking about my surroundings.

The house is quiet.

The ropes are tight.

My thoughts drift to when my lover will return.

I wonder what he will do first.

Will he be tender or rough?

Will he talk or be silent?

When will he return?

In about twenty minutes, I hear a key unlocking our front door.

But instead of my husband's voice, I hear yours, Lisa.

I am blindfolded so I do not see your expression, but I feel an uncomfortableness.

You are shocked, I can tell.

"Josette, I guess I came as a bad time."

At that time, I wished I did not give you a spare key to feed the cats.

Sure, I am glad you are comfortable enough to use the key to enter the house (I do not have that many good friends), but I did not want you to see me this way.

"Would you untie me? I am soooooo embarrassed."

"Sure. Just a second."

And I feel you moving closer to me.

"So where is Andy? I assume you are waiting for him."

"He's at work. His 1st Sergeant must have called again.

Trouble with the unit."

You start to loosen the ropes, but your hand touches my skin, and you do something unexpected.

You tighten the ropes.

You go back to the front door and lock it.

You even lock the chain, I hear.

I hear you in the kitchen for a moment, and you return.

You tighten the blindfold and ask if I can see anything.

I lie and tell you that I see nothing, but I can see a little bit from near the bridge of my nose.

You sit on my lap facing me.

I can feel the rough denim fabric from your jeans touching my skin.

I am in ecstasy.

"Pretend I am Andy," you giggle, and you kiss me lightly on the lips.

I hungrily try returning the kiss, but you pull away.

"I am not that easy," you tease.

You then get something off of the table and return.

I cannot see what it is, but I feel a cool (cold!) liquid drip to my nose and lips, my belly and my left breast.

I gasp, then taste the liquid on my lips.

Syrup.

You then start licking the syrup off of my lips, then you kiss my again, this time longer.

Your tongue enters my mouth for the first time.

We are now lovers.

You are careful not to get any syrup on your clothing, but you continue to kiss me.

Your fingers play in the syrup on my stomach, and I feel the syrup start to run down my front and some syrup start to drip from my breast to my left leg.

You lick my breast where the syrup is, stopping the dripping, but deliberately missing a nipple which wants (needs) licking.

"Lick my nipple, damn it," I order, but that only makes you tease me more.

Your breath on my bare moist skin begins to make me cold.

Your tongue circumscribes my nipple; you continue to tease me.

Then you ask, "When is Andy expected back."

Your reply, "Any minute, I suspect."

---

I have found a new, free sex game (new to me, not new to everyone). It is called Viva-Ponata.

If you have not heard of it, you can check it out at the following link:

http://viva-ponata.com/register.php?REF=13607

If you use the link, I get credit for the referral (if you reach level 5), and I get 25 diamonds (which is a type of currency in the game).

The game is a sort of a sexual simulation game. You pick your name, you can earn money by performing various illegal acts (selling Viagra, stolen DVDs, turning tricks). And you also can enhance your appearance (which adds to your beauty, so you can get a better job, for instance). I am a fairly tame character in real life, so this allows me to let my hair down. I mean, I look forward to turning tricks – someone has to choose your ass among all the prostitutes working the streets.

I am by no means an expert at the game, but it is a fun diversion. If you want to try it, sign up (free), and write me or my online spouse. We can help you out.