Jane's Bad Day

Written by a man.
by Mark Badham

Jane was not having a good day. Here she is, mid-thirties, successful, attractive and getting pissed-off over something as trivial as unintentionally flashing her knickers at a smutty newsagent.

Plus it would be another three months before she saw her lover again and shed just lost a major contract for her advertising agency. The last thing she needed was a comment like 'nice panties luv' from a dirty-old-man of a shop keeper.
It hadnt been her fault anyway, this skirt always did blow about in the wind, she just didnt expect the wind to blow that strongly as she turned the corner of the block. Before she new it there she was, skirt round her waist exposing her lilac thong for all to see. Not only that but she knew the newsagent must have seen her blond bush showing through the sheer panel that extended across the front of the flimsy garment.

Normally of course she would have got a cheep thrill from this kind of thing, but not today. David her lover had called from the naval base to confirm his contract had been extended.
Other times hed been away this wouldnt have mattered, she'd have simply booked into a nearby hotel for each weekend where they could spend their time teasing and pleasing each other.
Even now she could imagine his balls in her hands as she lowered her mouth to his rapidly growing erection.
How many times had she used her mouth to bring him from half-mast to fully erect? How many times had her tongue lapped at his shaft, circled the purple smoothness of his glans? How often had she been doing this while David gently parted her sex lips with his fingers and gently lapped at her swollen clitoris, bring her to a delightful orgasm before she mounted him and rode him till he came, bucking and moaning as his seed erupted from him?

This was doing her no good.
Now she could feel she was getting wet and for the second time today she would have to let her desire die away leaving her frustrated and aching.

She had woken this morning with a start and quickly realised she had been on the verge of orgasm from her dreams. She had been dreaming about David as he rammed his thick cock into her while in the elevator in her office block. It wasnt often they made love in the lift but the moment took them over, with the added excitement of having to complete the job in the time it took for the elevator to reach the top floor of her block. If they werent finished then Sharon the receptionist would surely see them as the doors opened. But David was shafting her well, she could feel her back hammering on the lift wall as his weight pressed down on her each time his slippery shaft - slippery with her glistening juices - forced her sex lips apart and filled her cunny. She could feel he was close to coming and she concentrated on the sound of her juices slurping as his cock shafted her deeply. Suddenly he pulled his rigid member from her, grabbed the back of her head and pushed her down to him. She opened her lips to accept his manhood sliding them gently but firmly over the head of his glans. Just as she started to suck, breathing in the smell of her own sex on him, he exploded in her mouth.

At first she thought there would be too much for her to swallow, such was the size of his orgasm, but with great determination she forced her mouth down till his cock hit the back of her throat, gulping his seed down as fast as she could. When the lift doors opened she was just licking the last of his come from the side of her mouth.

So it was that she woke feeling wet and wanting. She had lost the moment of passion as she jerked awake but soon recovered enough to lower her left hand to her snatch to open her sex lips. As she did so her right index finger found the bud of her clitoris, rubbing and teasing gently. It wouldnt be long before she came she knew but before she could give herself that ultimate pleasure she heard the rattle of a ladder on the outside wall and realised the window cleaner was about to see her, legs akimbo and panting with orgasm if she carried on. If it wasnt for the fact that he was such a horrible little man she would have delighted in exposing herself to his gaze but she really couldnt bring herself to it. Quickly she rose from the bed and slipped her dressing gown on, covering her nudity.

Now here she was, horny a second time today and unable to do anything about it. She caught her reflection in a shop window. Thankfully there was no glow of arousal about her but she looked tired and fractious. Her feelings turned to anger as she thought back to the newsagent and how he must have enjoyed the sight of her bush, framed by lilac lace which was in turn framed by the tanned skin of her legs and belly.

She needed to relax and thought about going to the gym but that would mean going home first and collecting her leotard and leggings. That was too much after a day like today so instead she called into Vinos wine bar for a cocktail while she read the paper she had just bought. She was on her second gin and tonic when she noticed the Personal Services column in the back pages. There were about a dozen adverts for masseurs and it occurred to her she could get a massage at home. She had never done this before but it was the sort of local paper that would have vetted its advertisers so they were probably genuine rather than being male prostitutes or perverts or whatever.

Looking down the list she steeled on one advert:

Massage by Paul
Ladies, enjoy a high quality massage to suit your mood Available 24 hours a day, phone now

Paul sounded quite nice on the phone in the wine bar. He was due at Jane's at eight thirty which gave her enough time for another G&T and the taxi ride home. As she settled back to her drink she wondered about her motives for making the call. Was this just sexual frustration or was she genuinely in need of some simple relaxation. The gin made her mind up for her. She was too out of sorts with the day to be thinking about sex with a stranger. To confirm the point she would meet Paul at her door in her work suit, so he'd know from the start she was serious about relaxing and nothing more.

The taxi ride home was uneventful except for the fact that Jane saw the newsagent from earlier fall off his bicycle into a hedge. She was very pleased about seeing him go arse-over-tit after what hed seen of her arse (and fanny for that matter).

Paul arrived at eight-thirty sharp. Before she answered the door she checked her suit, smart and respectable, and her image of the masseur - tall, dark, muscular. Like David enough to be attractive, but not too like him to be too attractive. She shifted on her feet slightly as a familiar feeling passed from her crotch to her stomach but her anxiousness turned to disappointment when she answered the door. Paul arrived in a scruffy Transit van, he was medium height, had jet black hair, was slightly overweight and quite surprisingly ordinary in his looks. He had with him a large holdall and an even larger pile of clean white towels. They sat in the lounge while they discussed her requirements.

'Im not really sure why I phoned' Jane started, 'I might be wasting your time'
'No problem at all, madam, erm Im sorry, I dont know your name.'
'It's Jane' she replied and held out her right hand.

Paul took her hand and shook it firmly. He had confidence in his handshake which conveyed a strangely comforting feeling to Jane.
'What sort of massage would you like Jane' asked Paul
'I dont really know what sorts there are, Ive only had massages at the health club or from my lover.'
'Well thats no problem, how would you like to feel at the end of it relaxed, invigorated, stimulated, sleepy?' 'Well' said Jane 'I think I need to unwind. It was a bad day, what with loosing a contract and then flashing my all to a smutty minded shop keeper.'

The G&Ts had worked a little too well thought Jane when she heard what she was saying. Paul didnt turn a hair however, which put her back at ease.

'I think the best will be something to pick you up a bit in the middle and then wind you down at the end' concluded Paul. 'If you show me to your bedroom, its easier to massage on a bed, well get started.'

The bedroom was light and airy even at this time of night. Paul handed the pile of towels to Jane as he assessed the room. 'Very nice room, I'll need some more things from the van. Get some more pillows and wrap them in some of the towels, then lay another one or two towels on the bed.' As he headed for the door he added 'oh, get undressed when youre ready, I'll just be five minutes.'

Jane decided to put on some of her regular knickers and a bra and wrapped a towel around herself before she sat on the bed to wait for Pauls return. When he can back he emptied a number of bottles containing what looked like oils from his bag along with some orange juice and a bottle of iced water, some of which he poured into a bedside glass, after this he immediately started to undress.

'You wont need the towel, take it off and lie down on your front' he said as he reached for his fly.
'Hang on, whats happening' said Jane. 'Oh, sorry, you need to be naked for the massage, so I undress as well to make us even, helps break the ice I find.'

Jane looked no happier.
'Look, its all up to you. I have one rule. The massage is for your benefit so you call the shots. Anything you dont like, just say and I'll stop, ok.'

Something about his manner settled Janes nerves. She watched Paul undress as she removed her towel, bra and knickers. Paul didnt look at her but set about opening bottles. Jane was a little miffed that not only did he ignore her but he also had no sign of an erection whatsoever, she may not be wanting sex with this guy, but a little appreciation of her body would have been nice, maybe she should have kept her thong on after all.

Jane lay down on the bed facing away from Paul and listened to the chinking of bottles for a few moments. She startled as she felt ice cold water on her back and a strange tingle ran from her spine round to her nipples and her crotch. She could feel her nipples harden a little and then a little more as Paul began to rub her back.

I do an all over massage as a rule, so my hands'll just about get everywhere. If theres anywhere you dont want them going, just say said Paul as he parted Jane's buttocks and poured more iced water between the moons of her arse. The freezing water ran down between her legs, she felt it reach her anus, her outer sex lips, run over the naked flesh of her labia and down over the hood covering her clitoris. The sensation was like nothing else she had ever felt and she realised she was powerless to stop the moistness gathering in her sex.

Paul continued with the water over her arms and legs, his hand bushing her labia as he rubbed the water between her upper thighs. Jane was sure by now that she could smell her own sex and glanced at Pauls crotch for a sign of a reaction. Nothing.

Next oils were rubbed over her skin, their odour covering that of Janes sex, much to her relief. Then a new sensation came over her as a spicy hot oil dripped slowly into the curve of her spine. The heat was intense but not burning. Pauls hands were doing magnificent things with the oil as he rubbed it into her back. Jane was aching for his touch on her sex. Strong hands pulled the cheeks of her backside apart and Jane clenched her sex hard in anticipation of the sensation she was about to receive.
She could feel her juices covering her sex, seeping out under the pressure between her labia and matting her neatly trimmed blond bush which glistened invitingly.

As the oil ran from her buttocks she had to release her sex muscles, her cunny opened like flower, her engorged inner lips pink and wet her clitoris hard, throbbing. The oil ran into her cunny and spilled out onto her clit. She orgasmed immediately. It was unlike anything she had experienced before. She remained nearly motionless, as though she had no control of her limbs. A tiny whimper came from deep in her throat and she could feel her vagina opening and closing, her labia quivering from the spasms deep in her stomach. The feeling seemed to last forever and it was some time before she heard Pauls voice.

'Where do you keep you stockings?'
'In the top drawer on the right over there', Jane pointed with her eyes at a dresser under the bedroom window. She didnt even think to ask why he wanted to know, she didnt think she could think.

Paul returned with some of her finest silk stockings. She felt him lift her waist and her legs draw up beneath her till she was resting on her knees. One stocking was tied around her left wrist and her arm drawn down by her side. Her left ankle was drawn up near her wrist by the previous movement and she felt the stocking being tied joining her wrist to ankle. This separated her knees a little wider and then wider again as her right wrist joined right ankle. She was tied, face down, arse in the air and sex wide open and on show. In the gap between her shoulder and the bed she could see between her legs across the other side of the room. Her sex was dripping its juices down onto the bed, the sight of which was enough to make her squeeze her cunt muscles hard. More juice dripped out and she thought she was going to come again.

Then she saw Paul walk around behind her. His penis was hard now, an erection Jane was pleased to see. She sized up what was about to happen next, tried to beg Paul to fuck her hard there and then, but couldnt speak. She looked at the purple head of his cock, a drip of love juice showing already. He was of normal length she guessed but think like a mans arm, oh joy.

She waited to feel his cock nudge against her cunt, waited for him to spear her. Instead she felt more of the hot oil, saw Paul rub more of the stuff on his fingers, first one, then two then a third. Her cunt was gaping, she felt a finger enter her and immediately a ripple of pre-orgasm ran through her sex. Her nipples were hard, though they had not been touched.
A second finger entered her and a second, stronger spasm ran through her. A third finger quickly followed the delightful feeling of being finger fucked pushed her over the edge and she began to climax again. Paul fucked her hard with his fingers while he wanked his cock with his other hand. Jane was in a state of continual orgasm on Pauls fingers and watched his hand flash to and fro along the length of his cock. She watched Paul's face trying to judge how close he was to his orgasm. Suddenly he withdrew his fingers from her cunt used his now-free hand, glistening with her sex juice, to yank on her thigh rolling her onto her back. Knees in the air and her ankles still tied to her wrists Paul moved swiftly along the bed till he was level with her face instinctively Jane opened her mouth and threw her head back. As she did so Paul drove his cock deep into her throat. Jane had just enough time to prepare herself for his seed when his orgasm hit. She'd never known anything like this. Paul came and came, she couldnt possibly swallow all his jiz as it spilled out of her lips, down her face and onto the bed cover.

The next thing Jane knew the sun was streaming into her bedroom. She was alone on the bed, the only evidence of the night before being the salty taste of jiz on her tongue.

---

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=107705

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.

The Poneta Whorehouse

EdgeofShadows [22834], someone who plays the online sex game I have been discussing, sent me a story after I busted him out of jail (online, not in real life). The story can be found below:

Another boring night in the Poneta Whorehouse ...
A call comes in and and then Handler comes in and informs you of a out call, You were requested special.
The Taxi drops you off a hour later in front of a seedy hotel , you were told the room number. Just as you go to knock on the door it opens and you peer into utter darkness.. a voice ..male.. calls to you . ~ Enter .. strip leave your clothes on the floor then take exactly 7 steps forward and stop.

While this seems odd at first it is by no way the weirdest you have encountered in Ponata... you step into the darkness and strip.. taking seven steps forward deeper into the dark.. at the seventh step you seem to be falling ... tripped.. you hit the bed face down .. before you can lift yourself up your right wrist is grabbed you feel and hear the zip tie tightening on it and then it being pulled toward the bed corner... as you go to claw at it with your other hand it is grabbed and secured.. then pulled to the opposing bed corner ...your eyesight starts to adjust to darkness you can make out the outline of the man... he utters no sound even when you question him ... then he is behind you on the bed.. pushing you up forward .. you manage to get to your hands and knees but your hands are stretched abit out from you ..
You feel him press against your ass as his hands explore you.. callused figures rough over your nipples as the sway beneath you ... then you feel the knob of that hardening cock press against your labia .. not entering but definitely there.... then that voice cuts off your thoughts.. ~ Such a pretty slut you are ... I assure you that your wrists are well secure but feel free to pull at them during this .. I so love the struggle ... ~ his rough figures pinching your nipples now causing them to harden ... you cant help yourself you pull at the restraints ... feeling them secure but your breif tugs have excited your customer.. so you pull more .. feeling the head of that hard cock press into your soft folds..yet still not entering .. feeling yourself moisten as his rough fingers leave your nipple and one hand taking you by the hip ... the other slapping your ass with a hard strike .. then feeling fingers take you by the hair ... and with a primal growl he shoves that hard cock hard into you ... the sheer violence of you oh so tight cunt being stretched to take this hard cock tears a scream from you ... even as he buries himself fully in your pussy , ...your velvet walls sheathing it completely and without you even getting a breath to allow your body to adjust he drags his cock from you only to shove it harder into you... taking you .. using your hip and hair to pull you back as he thrusts... making the restraints bite into your flesh slightly .
As your body adjusts now the mind blurring the once pain to pleasure ..you start rocking back on that hard shaft willing it deeper still .. as this man takes you with animalistic glee... fucking you ... ~ Yes that's it my lil slut! give me all that pussy!... ~ he releases your hair long enough to send a hard slap on your asscheek... then using both hands on your hips drives impossibly harder into your cunt .. sending waves of pleasure through you... sure there have been many johns you know the sounds to make for them ... but even you are surprised at the sounds coming from you as that hard shaft finds your inner most pleasure .. feeling the head of that cock hit your cervix twice.. running over the g spot ... those rough hands on your skin .. you feel his cock swell even harder ..knowing he is close to release ..the mere thought sends you over the edge ... the orgasm rocketing through you like a runaway train ...your breath seems caught in your very throat at the intensity ... and just when you take a breath ...your orgasm triggered his .. he shoves that hard shaft deep the head of that cock finding your cervix as he releases a hot torrent of cum deep inside you... for that single moment as the first spurt hits your orgasm doubles and you clamp down your velvet walls on that cock milking it with your cunt ... it seems as if time stands still .... and then the world lets out the breath it was holding and you shudder... feeling that cock slip from your well used body ... you collapse.

feeling a tug as your wrists are released .. you turn and see the outline dressing and then heading out the door ~ I will call for you again my lil slutling ... ~ and he leaves.... you grope for a light .. your eyes burn for a moment ...looking around the seedy room you find your money laying on top of your clothing ... :)

---

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=142

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.

The End

I placed my last post in the file on December 18, 2009, and they are scheduled through the Ides of March. I did this in order to help out my online spouse, who was very kind to me. I wish him the best!

I hope you will enjoy all of the stories I have posted in the last 5 years. Peace!

Jugling Time Commitments

Guys, I have enjoyed keeping up with two blogs, but because of all that is going on right now, I just can't seem to juggle my real life commitments, my job, my writing, and my blog. Sorry, but I am ditching the blog for now.

Summer Tan Lines Part II

The club was typical – very loud music, half of which I have heard of (from the radio), half of which was club music. We looked around for the guys and did not see them, so we started dancing together. Within one song, the guys appeared and we started dancing with the guys. I love attention, and dancing with two guys really strokes my ego. My little sis was having an even better time than me, she being a high-schooler dancing with two college men.

Within the hour, we were drenched. The Florida coast seems cooler than Savannah, but the constant dancing and warm night took its toll. We all went over to the bar, and I wanted water. Bartender frowned, and my next drink would be a beer. I know, lousy tips on water. I get that.

So we are shouting at each other, and no one can really hear. We were shouting/talking for about ten minutes when these two skanks showed up. They were already on their way to being drunk, they looked frightful, and fairly soon, the two non-descript men went off dancing with them. I know, they looked like easy ass.

Jeff and Jerry continued dancing with me and sis, and I danced mostly will Jeff. I don't think Jeff really wanted to dance with my little sis, and Jerry was being the gentleman, entertaining the under-aged girl. Sis was having a good time, and Jerry looked like he was enjoying himself as well. Still, to see the oldest in the group with the youngest, I had to laugh a little.

I was not wearing a watch (did not bring one on vacation), and finally remembered to ask Jeff what time it was: 9:50 p.m. Holy shit. I said I had to leave to bring sis back home, and I would return afterwards. I grabbed sis, and started out. As I left, Jerry came out with us (where we could actually hear him), and he said he would walk sis home. I thanked him for the offer, but said I had to walk her home, as I promised my parents.

So the three of us raced home, sort of raced because of the shoes and the sand. But you get the idea. The warm breeze felt so good, and in no time at all, our perspiration was disappearing. Normally men sweat and women perspire – I was sweating that evening. I walk sis to the door, and tell her I will be back in a couple of hours.

As we start walking back to the club, I thank Jerry for paying so much attention to my sis. And he said something that surprised me: he was actually looking at me all night long. Normally, I can tell, but I did not get that sense from Jerry. We continued to talk and our walking was slower, not only because we weren't racing against the curfew clock, but I knew once we got back to the club, we really couldn’t talk.

We had been talking about how much fun we had, and subconsciously or not, we were talking longer to get back to the club. Then we started to pass our drinking pit, and we both laughed. "Sophomoric," Jerry said.

"Hey, I just finished my sophomore year, Jerry!"

"Well, there are some things good about being sophomoric", Jerry retorted.

I took off my shoes and jumped into the pit. "Me and you, baby, we are sophomoric." I was talking about the whole in the sand. Jerry smiled and jumped into the pit afterwards.

Our eyes locked, and we kissed. We were two souls entangled in a wonderful kiss. My mind was drifting, and before I knew it, I was on my knees in the sand, unbuckling Jerry's belt.

It was dark on the beach; we were the only two around, and I desperately wanted to see this man's penis. I had never even kissed a black man, and here I was getting ready to give him a blow job. I was envisioning a 21 inch penis, and although his penis was the largest I had ever seen, it was not that much longer or thicker than other men's. And it was lighter than his other skin, almost dark reddish purple in color. It was absolutely beautiful, and it reminded me of a jewel color – maybe that's where we get "the family jewels". I don’t know.

After examining and touching his penis for a while (while I was really just looking at his penis), I pulled my hair back and started to lightly touch his penis with my tongue. I wanted to smell his privates, and they did not have much of a smell at all. I was a bit disappointed by this, as some men smell so strong. My lips encircled his privates, and I was in pure heaven. I don't know about others, but when I am orally giving to someone, my mind wanders.

I began thinking of why I was doing this. I mean, I know I was enjoying myself, but was I doing this because I really did not want to be on a family vacation in Florida. Did I somehow want my father to find out that not only I am sexually active, but I have taken a black lover? My father is fairly open-minded; he is okay with bi-racial couples, but I am not sure he would think the same way if it were his daughter who was in a bi-racial marriage.

Jerry ended up coming in my mouth, and I worked really hard to ensure that I swallowed every drop. I did not want to get any of his semen on my dress, my face, my what-ever. Oh, how I wanted to pull up my dress and have him enter me from behind. To feel his penis penetrate me, rub me, excite me. I can just imagine myself on my knees, dress up, elbows on the sand, looking from the pit at the club some 1,000 yards in the distance.

You see, Jerry did not have any condoms and I did not have my purse. No condoms, no entry. That was one of my rules. Afterwards, we went back to the club, and I went into bathroom to clean up.

I wanted Jerry to bring me home that evening, but he did not want to. I think he may have been afraid of my father. He knew we were from Georgia, and people are less tolerant in Georgia than in Florida.

In short, Jerry shattered some of my prejudices, most of which I did not even realize I held. For that, I will always hold fond memories of him. Intellectually, he was my superior, but sexually, we were equal partners. I hope his wife knows what she has.

---

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=142

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.

Summer Tan Lines Part I

This is a fictional story, but certain images are real.

After my sophomore year in college, I came back home for the summer. It was always a struggle to come home – after the 9 months of relative freedom, to come back to a family's home with the rules, expectations and so forth.

In the middle of the summer, we had our family trip. My parents are nuts for the yearly family trip, but this year I asked my parents if I could stay home and work. I will watch the house. My main motivation was my summer job and going out in the evenings with less of a curfew. Parents, if you have not figured it out, can read minds, so it comes to little surprise that mine said, "No." Not being a full adult (translation = being a Daddy's girl), I complied with Daddy's wishes.

Our trip was to Florida, not a stretch from Georgia, and a common destination. We rented a beach house one block in from the beach (cheap parents), and we were having a lovely time. I read paperbacks on the beach while basking in the sun.

Two days before we had to leave, my younger sister and I met some young men. They were college boys – many of them handsome. For the sake of the story, let's call them all handsome. Four guys, all in college, handsome and at the beach.

The oldest, Jerry King, was handsome, black and confident. He was also 21, which is important, as he was the "alcohol contact." Not that I ever really needed an "alcohol contact." Bat your eyes and the guy will find alcohol. My kid sister was still in high school, but she liked "pretending to be an adult."

Jeff was a year younger than Jerry – they were roommates. Jeff was handsome, tried to be as cool as Jerry, but he lacked confidence. He was cute and funny – the kind of guy you wouldn't mind bringing home for Thanksgiving to meet the parents or just rolling in the sheets with, for that matter. The other two guys were more non-descript.

We were sitting at the beach – and a couple of the guys dug a pit for our feet. I think they just liked playing in the sand, but we were able to sit on the beach, drink margaritas as long as the ice held out, and talk.

We talked about everything – from various college experiences, weird professors, over-sleeping the morning of a big exam, really universal college experiences. Now, I was born and raised in Georgia, open-minded and all, but I was surprised to catch myself assuming certain things. I assumed Jerry went to a state school (I went to a state school), but he was an upper classman at Cornell University (I also thought Cornell was in Connecticut, not New York; my Southern prejudices peek through, not knowing anything above South Carolina). Jerry was contemplating either law or medicine, and after talking with him, I saw him of more of a lawyer. He was well-spoken, thoughtful, seemed more like a lawyer. He also was an avid reader, and seemed to have unique incites on what author's write.

We all had a good time talking, and my sister got a little silly. She seemed a little out-of-place, mostly because she did not have college experiences from which to draw. The guys did not seem to mind too much; guess I was a tad embarrassed at times. But she was bikini-clad, and therefore most men forgive the occasional stupid comment.

It was getting late, the sun was falling, and we had to get back to the rental house for din-din. We could see a club from the beach – you know the type, horrid décor (huge beach lights), and the guys invited us there after dinner for dancing.

I had a slight buzz, and I hoped not to show it, especially because my parents didn't approve of drinking with guys on the beach. "Daddy, I didn't ask to come along this year," was all I could think to use as an argument, but my parents could not tell that sis and I had been drinking that day.

During dinner, I casually mentioned the club. We had not gone dancing since we started the vacation, and I asked if I could take my kid sister dancing this evening. "Fine" was the answer – curfew would be 10:00 pm.

"But, Daddy, I am in college now and it is summer vacation."

Well, to spare you the particulars, we negotiated me bringing (walking since we were so close) sis home at 10, and I would come home at midnight. Not what I wanted (I used to close clubs), but I had no power in these negotiations.

After dinner, sis and I showered, preened and started walking to the club. There was a new moon out, so it took us a couple more minutes to navigate to the club.

---

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=142

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.

Most Embarrasing Pee

On Friday, I was thinking about my "most embarrassing moments ever." There have been a few of them. Probably because I am so self-conscious.

Anyway, I thought I would share one this morning.

I used to work in this office environment with like 23 women and one man. I am a big woman's libber, but let's face it, too many women in an office is a really bad thing. Well, I was friends with only one of these women – let's face it, with that many women and that much gossip, you can't really trust too many. Know what I mean.

Well, we would chat about all sorts of things – how we spent the weekend, who we thought was cute. Whatever.

Anyway, the one guy was an accountant of sorts. Really straight-laced, cute, but a bit of a dork. Anyway, Wendy (my g-friend) used to tell me that he jacked-off every morning in the men's room (he got in earlier than anyone, to concentrate on numbers he would tell us). He had never hit on me, and I had not been in an office where a guy had not tried to take a peek down my blouse at least, know what I mean?

Well, I had to be in early one morning – I forget why, and I notice his light was on but he was not in his office. Thanks to Wendy, I think he is in a stall, beating his meat. Well, I just want to hear him, wondering what it sounds like, and so I go to the only men's room on the floor, and quietly open the door.

To my surprise, there is some worker there at the urinal, just having finished a pee. Being really surprised, I say, "I'll wait until you are through – ladies room is not free." Sometimes we pee in the men's room since the employee ratio is so screwed up, and I just blurted it out.

The guy smiles and my eyes drift to his mid-section where he is shaking off. I must be blushing because he takes his sweet time putting his penis back in his trousers. He zips up goes over to the sink and tells me, "I'm all done here." I almost died!

---

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.

The Study

It is well past midnight, and I cannot sleep. I normally do not watch television, but tonight I saw a show that really disturbed me. It was one of those “whodoneit” shows, and the murder was rather grizzly. I stare at the ceiling for several minutes, all I can hear is my husband sawing logs beside me, and I realize that my nightie is missing. It is not near the head of the bed, nor can I see it on the floor. I suppose that I have kicked it under the covers, as there is a lump near my feet, but I dare not retrieve it – for fear that I will wake my husband.

I slowly get out of bed and look for my slippers beside the bed, but I cannot find them. I do not pursue the slippers, now wondering where I placed my mind this evening, and slink down the hall. I approach the kitchen, knowing I really want to go towards the computer in the study. I take a glass from the cupboard, fill it with ice and then pour some bottled water over the cubes, listening to them crackle. I take the rest of the liter bottle of Perrier, the glass of water and myself, and I quietly make my way to the study.

Passing the laundry room on the way to the study, I peek in to see what clothes are clean, wanting to put something on my top. No clean clothes at all, but there is a pile of clothes needing to be washed. My husband’s dress shirt is on top – so I sniff it, and finding that it smells clean, slip it on.

I finally arrive at my destination, the study, and turn the computer on. The screen quickly comes to life, and I take several sips of water, watching the computer go through its initialization sequence. Then I click on the Internet Explorer button, and I hear the modem kick into action. I take a few more sips, and find the glass empty. I must have been thirsty.

I re-fill the glass, this time not hearing much out of the ice – not a crackle, not a pop. I take another sip or two as the home page loads. I type in the address for my online mail account, the account my husband does not know about, and the page slowly loads. Another couple of sips of water, and I smile when I see that I have received some mail. I click on the in-box, and finish the second glass as the page is loading. Sometimes I think we should get a cable modem, but I am against it for two reasons – I enjoy the anticipation, and if I could download files faster, I am afraid I would spend all of my time looking for pornography. All I really need is my pen pals and a couple of really good pictures, and I am all set for some, as my favorite on-line pal puts it, “wanking.”

He has written me a very nice note, concerned that I have not had much time for “wanking” and hoping that I will be able to self-satisfy me soon. Like him, when I travel for work, I am able to spend some time in the room, and they always turn into late night sessions. At the end, I am satiated but sore, tired but content.

In some of his notes, he places pictures that usually accompany the subject on which he writes. I read his letter further, and he describes, in this passage, a particular episode at the beginning of his sexual exploits. I sometimes wonder how he is as a lover – actually I often wonder.

The pictures that accompany the note this time are of young men, all touching themselves and in the height of pleasure. As he often does, he includes a couple of pictures that are meant to be me, young brunettes, usually with nice, full pubic regions, that either are satiated with cum in their vaginas, on their bums, or on their chests. And, as normal, it begins to turn me on.

I take another drink, only to have the ice rush forward and hit my nose – I was so intent on his note that I failed to notice that I was again out of water. Another refill, and another sip or two. Oh, how his note reaches my core.

I press the reply button and then describe to him how his note and pictures make me feel. I stop, on occasion, to ponder my words. Sometimes I think we are having a heated affair, but I know he is half-way around the world in his own place, with his wife, his practice, and his hobbies. As I sign the note “NBV,” for a little name he gave me, my heart is almost racing. I look at the clock, and I cannot believe that an hour has gone by. My bladder is now full from the water, and I hit the send button. I briefly look at the other notes and do not find anything of interest, so I decide that I will wank for my virtual lover on the guest bathroom toilet before going to bed. As I gather the empty glass and bottle, I notice there is but an inch of water in the bottle. Not wanting to put it back in the fridge, I drain the rest of the bottle on the way to the kitchen.

I place the bottle in the recyclables, the glass in the sink, and I am off to the bathroom for my early morning wank. I get to the bathroom, and I am about to “go”, but then I have an idea. I take off my husband’s shirt, and fold it neatly on the vanity. Then I straddle the toilet, facing the wall. I have wanked in this position before – but instead of walking out of my panties and wanking, I take a deep breath.

Then I begin to pee on the toilet, the pee soaking my crotch area and dripping into the toilet. Since I have had so much water, I continue to pee, and the stream is even stronger after the initial shock and feeling of wetting my panties. The fluid begins to creep up the panties a bit, and then I feel some urine running down my legs and onto the floor. Not a lot, but it is uncomfortable. After finishing, I sit still for a moment, listening to urine that had soaked my panties drip into the toilet.

Suddenly, I feel dirty. I remember my friend talking about “pissing in panties” when his wife was out of town, and I wonder if his experience was similar. My guess is that he is more expert at this than I, and he took precautions to make things easier. Still thinking of my friend, I remember that I was not finished. I reached my hand into the front of my panties, and I touched myself in my sweet spot. I continued to touch myself, and within minutes, I was cuming on my fingers. It was fast and intense, and it took me completely by surprise.

I smelled my fingers, and they smelled of my vagina and of urine. I wanted to lick them, to taste me like I had done on so many other occasions, but the thought of the urine prevented me from doing so. I later learned that the urine was probably safer to taste than any cum I had swallowed from any guy I had previously serviced.

I wrung out my panties over the toilet, and more urine made its way into the bowl. Then I took a washcloth and wiped myself off – and I nearly came again, probably would have, but I heard something, and thought it might have been my husband. I cleaned up the floor with the washcloth and a towel, making a note to clean the bathroom in the morning. I went to the laundry room, and I put the panties, the towel and washcloth and my husband’s shirt back in the dirty clothes. Then, because of the unusually strong fragrance, I started the wash, knowing that I would have to lie to my husband the next morning – saying that I forgot I had put a load in before I went to bed.

I made my way back to the bedroom and slipped under the covers, completely nude. I could not risk waking my husband up at night. In the morning, when the alarm went off, I surprised my husband with a “good morning fuck,” the only way I knew to throw him off the fact that I went to sleep clothed and woke up nude. I do not think he thought anything of it, especially since I did not ask for him to eat me – he quickly took me from behind before, came rather quickly, and then headed into the shower. I started the dryer after he was in the shower, and I was tempted to log onto the computer again – but thought better of it.

My shower followed his, and a few minutes after putting on a fresh pair of panties, his cum leaked out of me, wetting my panties. For a moment, I flashed back to the previous night, a little excited, and a little embarrassed.

---

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=142

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.

Treading Water

I wake up from a deep sleep – and I feel so well rested. I look at the alarm clock, and it reads 4:30 a.m., and I remember that I fell asleep unusually early the night before.

4:40 a.m. – tried to go back to sleep but I can’t. Turn on the television, but nothing interests me – then fire up the computer to see if I have any mail. Several pieces of junk mail – mostly of the weight loss, refinance your mortgage type. Deleting these messages is easy work – from people I do not communicate with, and usually in all caps. And then I two real messages – one from my mother, a small chatty piece of mail. The other from Dr. Allan – I think of him as my personal psychiatrist. Although we have never met, him living in Australia and me in the States.

He has written another piece of e-mail with a story attached. His stories are always well written, always highly erotic but not dirty, and an unopened message from him always makes my heart jump a beat.

As I read his message, my breathing becomes a bit quicker and shallower, not noticeable at first, but I often have to remember to slow down my breaths after reading his stories. Quite uncontrollably, my hands sometimes wander, mostly to my hair, where I twirl my finger absentmindedly into my shoulder-length brunette hair. A nervous habit, I remind myself.

After finishing the e-mail, I am tempted to visit one of the few erotic sites that I know about – I frequented these types of sites a few years ago, but I have mainly lost interest over time. But I refrain, remembering that I normally will find a chat room, flirt and eventually some anonymous person and I will find a room where I spend most of my time typing, and he or she (not knowing the sex of the person) spends most of his/her time masturbating to my words. Not typically a shared experience. So I disconnect from the Internet, and make my way into the bathroom.

I wash my face in the basin, taking time to ensure that my face is well cleaned. I place my hair in a pony-tail to keep it out of my face, and then I go to work. I start with warm water to open the pours, use my hypoallergenic soap, wash all of the soap off with warm water, and once my face is clean, I use cold water – and love the way I can almost feel my pours tighten and constrict.

I look at myself in the mirror – taking stock of myself. I like the look of myself – dark, natural brunette hair, soft freckle-free (I always wanted freckles as a little girl) skin – that was a shade darker when I was younger – well, proportioned facial features, bright blue eyes.

5:00 chimed the grandfather clock. Could it still be that early? I went out to the living room, and then to the kitchen, not knowing what to do next. Then I opened the sliding glass door, and out to the deck in the backyard. I could not see many stars in the sky, but the moon shown bright. Since our house is on a hill, I could see the front and back porch lights in many of the neighbors’ houses.

I noticed a couple of lounge chairs out of place, so the organizer in me straightens out the chairs. I look to the pool, and there are several large leaves floating in the pool. Grabbing the pool net, I approach the pool, skimming out several of the leaves and placing them in the yard. A couple of leaves are slightly out of reach, so I use the pool net as a paddle to attempt to bring the leaves closer to me and my net. A little close, a little closer . . . and then I lose by balance and unexpectedly fall into the pool.

As my head re-emerges from the surprisingly mild-temperatured water, I wonder how loud my scream was. I giggle, out of nervousness mostly, happy in the fact that I did not injure myself from my klutziness. I am wearing an old t-shirt, white cotton panties and a robe, and now the cotton robe reminds me that I need to get out of the water. Luckily for me, I fell in the deep end of the pool, but now I must swim towards the ladder – the weight of my robe would prevent me from lifting myself from the pool at the location where I entered the pool.

I reach the ladder, and begin to climb out, water rushing down my body as I exit the pool. The water runs fast, and I am a little amazed at the amount of water stored in my robe. After looking back at neighborhood below, I re-trace my steps and step back into the water, really enjoying the feeling of the water again weighing down my robe. I let the robe fall off my shoulders, me helping the robe as it clings to my body. I take the robe and begin playing with it in the water; spinning it around and watching the motion take control of the robe. For a moment, I feel like a little girl again. I laugh, throwing the robe towards the center of the pool, watching it perform its dance in the water sans me.

I swim out to the robe, treading water and again tossing it in front of me. I go back to the side of the pool, eying the location of the robe. As a game, I swim to it under water, turning and returning to the safety of the side. I do this several times, being able to reach the side easily. To make things more interesting I take off my t-shirt, throw it out, and because of the lighter weight, it travels nearly as far as the robe. Off with my panties, and I drop them a few feet from the side. Now, almost like a steeplechase, I, submerged, swim to the robe, my t-shirt and then return to find my panties. I ma successful on the third try, my panties being the cause of my misses – they are just too small to see until I am right near them.

Then my mind drifts to Dr. Allan. I wonder what he would think of me doing this – in relative safety, as I am in a pool which in all likelihood cannot be seen from anyone except for my closest neighbor, as long as I stay in the water. I wonder if he would attribute this behavior to my risk-taking concerning my sexuality, or the skinny-dipping fantasies that everyone seems to have. The second time in a row that I successfully touch all articles of clothing under water, I celebrate by tossing my panties in the air. I laugh a bit at my silliness and want to toss them higher, unfortunately because of the second toss, they land out of the water. I look at the panties, as the water starts making a more-or-less circular pattern on the recently dry cement. I quickly swim to the ladder and exit the pool, intent on retrieving my panties.

The warm night and the wonderful swim make me feel so alive. At first I was slinking to the panties, and then I stand up, feeling a slight wind blow past me, almost caressing my naked body.

Rather than return to the pool, I recline into one of the lounge chairs, and look at the neighbors below me. It may be 5:30 by now, not quite sure because I am losing track of time. If I had an almanac, I would know at what precise moment the sun would be coming up. I can tell it is a bit lighter, but the sun is still tucking safely below the horizon. My fingers move to my tummy, the tips lightly touching my drying skin. I wonder how many people are eating breakfast right now. And then my mind races to Dr. Allan in Australia, and I think to myself, “He is probably getting ready for dinner right now.”

I think about Allan, wondering if his wife is cooking for him tonight, if she is even in town. If she is gone, has he ordered a pizza, and is sitting in the living room, stroking himself, watching a tape of a woman who looks like me? My finger drifts, almost instinctively to my private area, my finger softly caressing my outer labial lips. Would Allan call it my labia majora, I wonder.

My finger stops for a moment, and I return to reality. What a beautiful pre-morning dawn, I think, my finger starts teasing my outer lips again, brushing against my opening on occasion. I need to feel my fingers from all sorts of angles. I am adept at pleasing myself, and then my thoughts return to Dr. Allan.

I wonder what kind of lover Dr. Allan is – patient, to be sure. Self-confident, imaginative, and inventive. This I know from our correspondence. My fingers continue to explore myself. I part my inner lips for the first time, and I think of Dr. Allan. I am sure he would run his tongue to tease my labia minora, probably more expertly than my fingers can. I love the feeling of tongue, and my fingers continue to drift over my private parts. In and out of crevices, as I wonder what Dr. Allan’s tongue would be like. I wonder if he would eat me out after cuming inside of me – I would want him to eat me before to ensure a more-exciting lovemaking session, but I would also want him, perhaps 30 minutes after depositing his seed deep within me, to again eat me. Not so much for the excitement, though I am certain I would be excited, but because it takes about that long for cum to exit my vagina – it is like clockwork, my panties get wet from cum almost precisely 30-minutes after lovemaking. And I would want him to prove himself by eating me, having him taste his salty gift as it flows outside of me.

My mind again drifts back to reality, and because of my mind and thinking of my virtual lover, the area between my legs is on fire. My pulse has increased, my breathing is shallow, and my vagina is engorged. I begin to feel myself coming, knowing the feeling so well. The feeling seems to come from deep within me, not nearly as well-defined as an area near the surface of me. It does not seem to radiate from my vagina, from my clitoris, from any distinct part of me. I start to spasm slightly, knowing what is coming, what is here. Again and again, I feel the waves of a finger-induced orgasm radiate from deep within me. I contort slightly, noticing for the first time the beginnings of a daybreak. My nipples are hard, the waves continue, and the sun, my heavenly foe, shows itself in the morning sunrise. The sky becomes, as my organism subsides, a brilliant golden-orange, almost too bright to fully appreciate.

Then it dawns on me (Allan would tam my arse for the pun) that I am completely nude – and I return fully to reality. I dive into the water to retrieve me robe and t-shirt, re-emerging from the pool quickly. I pick up my panties, and in a flash (another spanking from Dr. Allan for the additional pun), ring out, as best I can, the wet clothing as I walk towards the sliding door. I enter the house, toss the clothing in the washer on the way to the bathroom.

I look again at my nude frame in a mirror and smile. I empty the contents of my bladder in the toilel, facing the toilet, thinking again of Allan. Still horny, I masturbate once more on the toilet before taking a shower. I glance at the clock to see if there is enough time to write this down for Allan, and I am out-of-luck; I will have to remember the experience and write Dr. Allan in the evening. Although I am disappointed that I can not capture the moment in prose, I think about my experience many times during the day, getting flushed at times. How wonderful it is to have such a pen pal.

---

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.

Strange Bedtime Story

This story is based on a true experience, but it is enhanced to give readers a more interesting story.

I had been going out with Allan for several weeks - and the "courtship" was fast, meaning I slept with him on our first date. Not normal for me. Neither is the rest of this story.

Allan and I went dancing on Saturday night. We had gone dancing before ˆ drank heavily before we left, and then we drank plenty of water at the club. It was cheaper, and you had to drink because it was so hot on the dance floor. We started home about 2:00 a.m., and were at his place by 2:30. He had two roommates but both were gone for the weekend.

We started kissing, our hands running over each other‚s bodies, and Allan said, "Want to try something different?"

“Sure," I answered, thinking he was going to ask for some anal sex. I had anal sex three times before, having two wonderful and one painful experience.

“You have to have an open mind," he warned.

“Just so you don't hurt me . . . much," I coyly responded.

Allan retrieved a plain white cotton shirt from his dresser drawer, and asked me to but it on. Only the shirt. As I was going to the bathroom to change, he beckoned me back, saying I could change there.

I also mentioned I had to go to the bathroom, and he said there would be time for that. Then he unlocked his footlocker, and took out a couple of strange things, a diaper, baby powder, a large baby bottle and a bottle of Evian.

He filled the baby bottle with Evian, and asked me to lie on the bed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

“Sure," I replied, not really knowing if I were sure anymore.

I lied on the bed, and he asked me to lift up my ass. He placed the biggest diaper I had ever seen under me, and I lowered myself onto the diaper. He then said, "its alright dear," and proceeded to powder my privates and then put the diaper on me.It was a strange feeling, and I wiggled a little. Because of the plastic and cotton construction, I could hear the plastic make noises on the bed.

“Good girl," he said, and he led me to the living room with the baby bottle and another Evian in his hand.

We sat on his roommates Lazyboy .

I sat on his lap. He cradled me in his arms and offered me the bottle. "Drink," he said.

I started to drink from the bottle, half thinking this was crazy. It took me a few seconds to get good at drinking, and soon I had emptied the bottle. We had been dancing, and I was still thirsty.

He re-filled the bottle and offered more to me.

“No thanks," I said.

He said that babies can't talk, and that I should continue to drink.

So I drank. It took me longer to finish this bottle, and he was singing me songs during this time, children’s songs.

Now I was getting uncomfortable. I had to urinate and I just came to the conclusion that is what he wanted.

I kissed him long and hard, then as we parted lips, I said, "I have to go to the bathroom. Let me up."

He patted my diapers right over my vagina (on purpose, I am sure), and said,

“That is what the diaper is for.

"I was right. Then he started patting my back, saying, "I have to burp you now.

"Maybe it was the role-playing, maybe I swallowed air while drinking from the bottle, but I actually burped. Not lady-like, but it is hard to be a lady in a big diaper on your boyfriend‚s lap early in the morning.

“Tell you what," he offered. "If you can drink one more bottle without peeing in your diaper, you can take off the diaper and pee."

“Fair enough," I said, and then he said he had to fill up the bottle. He came back with an even larger bottle, and I drank it almost as fast as the first bottle.

Then Allan said he would like to take off the diaper for me, to which I agreed, and he carried me into his bedroom again and gently lay me on the bed.

Before he took off the diaper, he wanted to play peek-a-boo with a pillow, and I was humoring him, since I knew this was a fantasy for him. When he had the pillow over my eyes and nose, he grabbed on of my wrists, and before I could stop him, he handcuffed my wrist to his headboard. Then he kissed me on the cheek and said, "Call me when you need changing" as he got up and walked out of the room. I was shocked and lay there in disbelief for several minutes. I had to urinate, but I did not want to wet myself. After about ten minutes I really had to go, and knowing no alternative, I began to pee. When I started to go, the feeling was strange, as the absorptive material in the diaper kept the urine from my skin. But I continued to pee and filled the diaper with urine. I could feel a warm, itchy feeling because of this, and I called Allan to the room. I could smell myself as he entered, and a grin was on his face. "

Punkin had a wee-wee," he said as it was evident he got his wish.

He had the handcuff key in his fingers, and he immediate uncuffed me.

Let me get that, he offered, and he took off my wet diaper, smelling me as he was unfastening the Velcro. He lifted down the diaper, the bottom of which was still between the bed and me. I looked up at him and his erection. He was loving this.

I said, "Too bad you can't fuck babies," and laughed. "Please clean me up, you pervert."

Then he parted my vaginal lips, caked with wet baby powder and smelling of urine, and he drove his member deep inside of me.

It surprised me for a moment, and we started fucking harder than we had ever fucked. He came quickly, then often that night.

We had to wash all of his sheets the next morning, they smelled strongly of urine and sex. That was the last time I would ever have sex with him. It was great that night, but it was too much for me.

To this day, when I smell urine, I remember Allan. I wonder how many other women wore diapers for him.

---

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.

Girl Scout Cookies

I was at work the other day, and a co-worker was hitting us up for Girl Scout Cookies. I ordered two boxes of Thin Mints for my husband, but it reminded me of a spring break I spent in Savannah, home to Juliette Gordon Lowe, founder of the Girl Scouts.

I was a freshman at the University of Georgia, and I was coming home for Spring Break. It was a time for me to renew some high school friendships, as I did not have the cash to go to Florida for Spring Break.

One of my old girlfriends was Wendy. She was a very beautiful girl - medium length blond hair, nice brown eyes, dimples, a wonderful smile and very large breasts - and was not going to college. I actually was jealous of her figure, as I was so flat-chested. I was in college, but I sported modest 32-B's (I had not grown since sixth grade). Anyway, Wendy was working for the Girl Scouts of Savannah, Georgia in their gift shop on Drayton Street. It was an old, historic building, and she liked working with the girls.

I met her at the shop 30 minutes before closing in Mid-March, and we were going to go out to dinner that evening, catching up on each other's lives. We also had agreed to go out the next day to the Saint Patrick's parade - Savannah has the second largest one in the nation, and it was a chance to get plastered and stupid, things college girls needed to do on Spring Break. I got to the shop, and it was completely empty. She had some bad news, saying that she had to work the following day at the parade - selling Girl Scout cookies, of all things. Apparently the council bought too many cookies, and it was a last ditch effort to unload the cookies on the public. Most of my other friends were either in Florida or other places for Spring Break, so I had few options to myself.

"How many boxes," I asked.

"500" was the answer Wendy gave me.

I did not know how she would be able to do it, as I had remembered St.

Patty's Day was full of drunks, and beer does not go well with cookies.

"Hell, I will help you sell them. I have nothing better to do," I offered.

"Sure," Wendy said, "but we will have to find you a Leader's Uniform. You

can borrow one from the shop and I will return it after the parade." Well, I tried on the smallest leader's uniform and it was too big. Most of the Girl Scout mom's were fairly large women, I guess, and the uniforms were hanging off my body. My petite size and small breasts did not help one bit.I fit well in one of the Older Girls uniforms, so I figured that would do. Not great, but it would have to do. I joked that I would be a Girl Scout for a day!

The next day I met her in front of the shop, and she introduced me as Debbie. She did not say I was in college because I was wearing the GS uniform. I had some fun with the uniform (short-sleeve shirt and short skirt), pulling my hair back and only wearing the most basic make-up. I looked young.

Wendy and I went in one direction, and the others scattered in other areas along the parade path. We were not doing well - again, cookies do not go well with beer, but then I started flirting with the crowd. I played it up, acting bubbly, bouncy, and saying how they would help our troop with a trip to Washington, DC. And it worked.

Wendy and I were selling lots of cookies. Per her request, I even unbuttoned the top button - not showing cleavage as I was flat-chested, but I felt several men look down my shirt when I was giving them their cookies. One cute guy who was in college and definitely drinking said he would take 20 boxes, but he was wondering if I could carry them to his house around the corner. Quite an order, since most had been one's and two's. We were carrying three cases of cookies (36 boxes), as I was going to try and unload the other cookies after making this delivery.

As we walked to his house, he asked me about me. I made up that I was a high school junior, skipped a grade, and was still active with the Girl Scouts because some of my friends were still in the organization. When we were inside, he continued the chit-chat, asking if it were true that all older Girl Scouts were lesbian. I said "no", knowing he was talking about a book published in the late 1980's.

I could tell this was his parents‚ house - it was in the historic district, tastefully furnished. There were several museum-quality paintings in the house, not Van Gogh but good 19th Century work.

He said he had to go upstairs and get the cash, and he asked me to wait downstairs. Before he left, he asked me if I wanted anything to drink, and I asked him what he had. He started listing alcoholic beverages and I giggled, telling him I was 16. He said that there was no harm in one drink, that he would make it very dilute, and then he was off to get the money.

I started drinking his lime concoction - and I could tell that it was strong. I sank into a very comfortable leather couch, and fixed my ponytail. It took him 10 minutes to return, and by then, I had finished the drink. He said he would buy 24 and gave me the cash for them. He then went into the kitchen, emerging with two drinks, one for him and one for me. He asked if I had time for one more drink, and I nodded, adding that I was not used to drinking (another lie, but I giggled again).

He sat down beside me, and we chatted. I do not remember the chatting, but it was the nervous chatting that people do when they would rather fuck than chat, but were afraid to do. Then he started talking about my eyes, how deep they were. I asked them what they said to him, and he kissed me. It was a slow and deep kiss, and I returned the kiss almost aggressively. I was still holding my drink, and some of it spilled, interrupting the kiss. I placed the half-finished drink on the coaster, and we kissed again and again.

Pretty soon, he was pushing me into the couch, his two strong hands clutching my buttocks. It was a bit strange being groped in a Girl Scout uniform.

Then he suggested we go to a more comfortable room, his room. I said I had to freshen up a bit, and I went into the bathroom to take my panties off. As I entered his room, the room was poorly lit. We embraced again, kissing, and then he led me to the bed.

I asked him if he had any protection, and he said he had already slipped something on. I reclined onto the bed, and he made a motion to take off my panties. Finding them already removed, I could tell he was excited. He asked me if it was my first time, and I laughed.

He lifted up my skirt, and he began smelling and then licking me.I was so ready for him, and it seemed like an eternity before he planted his flag into me. As soon as he started fucking me, I had a heightened sense of my lower region. I could feel his member stiffen and throb. I think he was trying to pulsate it himself. I have felt this since then, but this was the first time a man did this in me.

He started to fondle my breasts through my Girl Scout uniform. And then I had the weirdest thought: "I am borrowing this uniform; I better not get anything on it."

Before I knew it, he started cumming, and I felt his penis release his load. That is when I guessed he was lying to me about wearing a condom, as I felt his cum flood me; the first time a guy ever came inside of me. As he was finishing, I wrapped my legs around his skinny butt. It felt so good, but I

felt a little betrayed at the same time.

As we were cleaning up, I asked him, "How old are you?"

He said, "21, and how old are you really?"

"Fifteen," I lied again and kissed him on the lips. "Does it matter?"

"No," was his reply, and I knew at that point in my freshmen life that men really do not care about any rules during sex. You could be 15 and willing, a sister-in-law, drunk off your ass.

As long as your vagina (or asshole) gives them the friction they need, that is all that matters.

At least men are dependable that way!

---

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.

Pee Between Friends

I had been corresponding with him for months. It started out innocently enough - me admiring his writing and he mine. But we wrote erotica, so there was always the sexual tension in the correspondence.

He never said he wanted me - in fact, he did not say anything about me physically. We kept the letters focussed on our writing.

The closest it got was when I would mention that his style of writing was so real, that I admired the little details in the stories. It made them seem more real.

He would pay me other compliments, mostly how my stories stimulated him. But none of this sounded dirty to me.

Another reason most of this seemed harmless is that I was safely in the United States, while he lived in Australia. That was as far away as he could be, and I never saw myself traveling to Australia. Similarly, I never dreamed he would ever come to the United States.

Well, as fate would have it, he had wrote me that he would be traveling to the United States for a conference, and he wanted to know if I knew anything about Houston, Texas. He was a Psychiatrist, and he was attending a medical conference there. He did not know much about me, but he knew that I lived in Georgia.

What he did not know is that my brother lived in Houston, so I had a connection to that city. Well, to further the story, I had decided to visit my brother during Allan's conference. I was not sure that I would meet him, but I had communicated that I would be in the area and that I might meet him for lunch one day. Lunches are safe. Well, I knew his name and the hotel he was staying at, and I called him one morning while my sister-in-law was in the shower and my brother had already left for work. He answered the phone, almost shocked that I called, and then we made plans to eat at a Korean restaurant near the conference.

When I first saw Allen, he was a little older than I had thought, although he was handsome and distinguished. He had a kind face, and a very graceful way of carrying himself. He took me by the arm, almost like a friend of the family would take my arm, and lead me to where we would be eating. Our lunch took more than an hour to eat, and I was enthralled with listening to him converse with me. He had a way with words and conversations, and we must have gone through two pots of jasmine tea and many more stories.

We had to leave the restaurant, as we were not going to eat anymore, and I was so at ease with this fellow writer. When he invited me up to his room, I accepted, wanting to continue our talks. These talks were about when we were children, what fascinated us, what continued to fascinate us as we grew and matured. He put on some more tea in the room, and we continued to talk about things which I cannot remember.

All I know is that time was passing so quickly, and I was worried that I would have to be leaving soon. The tea from the restaurant and the tea afterwards filled my bladder quickly, and I asked if I could use his restroom.

As I got up, Allan said casually, "Let me watch you pee."

I had known that some of his stories centered on urination, and I felt a little surprised by the request.

Almost out of character, I agreed to his request.

He followed me into the restroom, and I continued to do things out of character. I stepped out of my black skirt and put it on the sink. I then stepped out of my plain cotton white Hanes Her Way panties and stood in front of him.

His eyes were glued on my vagina, and I had known that he enjoyed dark, hairy vaginas.

He had mentioend that he liked looking on Camilla's web site at the amateur submissions of muff shots. I enjoyed the attention.

In fact, I felt very desirable, almost like a super model. Then I remembered that I still had to urinate. I really did not want him to see this, but I had already agreed, and I also did not want to back down now.

I sat down on the toilet, and I spread my legs further apart than I normally would while on the toilet.

Allan stood in silence while I urinated. I could tell he was excited, as I could see his penis enlarge.

I urinated for an uncomfortably long time. His eyes remained glued on my vagina, his eyes seeing the light golden stream of urine between my legs.

When I was done, he asked if he could wipe me dry. I declined his offer, reminding him I was married, and I considered that crossing the line.

He left the bathroom, feeling a little dejected, I am sure. I put on my panties and skirt, and I joined Allan in conversation once again.

He had small beads of perspiration on his forehead, but he did not even bring up what had just happened.

He was a perfect gentleman through the rest of the afternoon. I returned to my brother's house, and I did not meet Allan again that week. When he returned to Australia, he continued to write me as if nothing had ever happened between us.

I still consider Allan to be one of my best advocates, and I am glad that nothing else happened.

I am also glad that he got to see my vagina, the kind of vagina he dreams about, the kind of vagina he writes about.

---

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.

Trick or Treat Part IV

After the door closed behind me, I found myself alone in the hallway, wearing a formal black evening dress, hands restrained my handcuffs behind my back, the key in a plastic container inside of my vagina, a butt plug in my arse, and my arse aching from the spanking I endured during the last hour or two. My mind began to race.

I did not want to knock on the door to my room, because the couple who did this were still in my room. But how could I go down the hall, knocking on doors, asking for help. If someone would help me, at the very least, they would have to pull down my panties and pull the container out of my vagina.

I do not even feel comfortable when getting a Pap smear. I walked up and down the hall, thinking about my predicament. I did not hear any noise from most of the rooms, which is not surprising, since it was after midnight on a weeknight. I walked up and down the hall, looking for a bathroom. I thought I would be able to try and free myself by myself if I had a secluded place to do it. I could not believe a luxury hotel did not have a public bathroom on the floor.

There was a cubby hole with two vending machines and an ice machine, and my heart quickened at the thought of me trying to dig in my vagina at such a public place. Since my hands were behind my back, I knew that the first thing I needed to do is loop my hands around so that my hands would be in front of me.

With that done, I could try to free myself.

There were two things working against me: I had a dress on, which limited movement, and my ass hurt, from the butt plug and the spanking. I was not sure if I could stand the pain if I was trying to pass my hands under my legs on the floor. While I was thinking this over, I heard a door open and close. I hid in the corner of the cubby hole, hoping that the person was going to the elevator. I heard the elevator bell sound, and I was a bit relieved.

I tested bending over, and the butt plug really hurt. I was not sure that I could get out of this situation. Another door opened and closed. I waited, and after a moment, Ross appeared with the ice bucket from my room.

His eyes widened when he saw me. "Find anyone to help you yet?" asked Ross.

"No, I have not. Please help me get out of this."

"Kiss me," Ross demanded.

With that, Ross planted a hard, passionate kiss on my lips.

We exchanged tongues, kissing for several minutes, his hands tracing my body, touching my breasts, my legs, my arse.

We parted lips, and Ross explained, "If my wife finds out I helped you, she will spank me raw. She is really pissed at you, and she wants you to suffer."

With that, Ross filled up the ice bucket, then grinned at me. He removed two ice cubes and placed one in each of my bra cups. In an instant my nipples were frozen bullets, and shortly, my whole body was cold.

Ross swatted me on my arse and left. I could not believe my luck. With my body heat, the ice began melting, feeling even colder as it melted. My dress quickly absorbed the ice water, and I again thought of freeing myself.

I decided that I would have to ask the desk staff if they could help me. I walked from the vending area towards the elevator. Along the way, I passed one door with music on loud enough for me to hear from the hallway.

I put my back to the door and knocked on the door, turning around quickly. The synthetic music quickly was turned off, and in a moment, a young man answered the door.

He had a robe on, and his breathing was a little elevated. My first thought was that I was interrupting him making love to his bride.

"I am sorry, wrong door," I said.

"Are you okay," he asked. His voice was soothing and warm.

"No, but it is late. I should not impose," I answered.

"Come on in," he said. As I entered the hotel room, I noticed a washcloth on the floor in front of the television and the television was off.

The remote control was near the washcloth. Now this makes sense, he was watching a porno film.

"I really should be going," I stammered. The man noticed my hands behind my back. "Hiding something," he inquired.

"Just a hand towel," I lied.

"Okay, I understand," said he, "just close the door on your way out."

I could not open the door, let alone close it. I told him that as a prank, my boyfriend had cuffed me. He told me that he did not have any experience picking locks and he had no tools in the room to help me.

"Actually," I admitted, "I have the key." I took a deep breath, then continued, "He placed it inside of me, inside my vagina. Will you retrieve it for me?"

He turned almost white at that last request. He shook his head yes, and I timidly sat on the edge of his bed.

"Please be professional about this," I requested.

He blew his breath into his hands, saying "Sorry my hands are so cold."

With that, he pulled up my dress and down my panties. He stared at my crotch area a little longer than he had to, and then he said, "Here goes nothing."

He inserted a finger inside of my vagina, and I could swear he pushed the container further into me. He took two fingers, and softly grabbed the container.

He started pulling it out slowly, and then his fingers slipped, my vagina sucking it back into me almost as far as he had initially pushed it.

"Hold on," I said, as I got further on the bed, spreading my legs apart and feeling the butt plug press against me.

"Is this a better angle?"

"Sure," he said.

"You are really slippery down there, and it is hard for my fingers to grab the container. It is buried deep inside of you."

"Wipe me off, first," I suggested, knowing that his washcloth was within reach.

All of a sudden, I could feel his mouth on my vagina, sucking at it. I did not know how old he was, but he could not have been too experienced.

He then reinserted his fingers and pulled out the container. It hurt a little. He then began licking me again.

I knew if I totally rebuffed him, I was in no position to assert myself. Furthermore, I was now laying on the handcuffs, and I was very uncomfortable.

I interrupted, "Sport, although I really am enjoying this attention, you should know that the fluid is my boyfriend's semen, not my own juices.

If you uncuff me, I will give you a blow job for your troubles."

He spat out whatever he had in his mouth and agreed to my proposal. He took the keys out of the container and quickly uncuffed me.

I knew that my dress needed dry-cleaning, if it was not ruined because of the water, but I took off the dress anyway.

He had already been at my vagina, seeing my breasts was no big deal now anyway. The young man quickly removed his robe, and he had nothing on underneath. Unless you count his hard on.

I asked him to lie down on the bed, and I turned on the TV before I got on the bed myself. Sure enough, porn filled the room.

"You have been a bad boy," I said before I kissed him on his penis after first inspecting it for any growths.

Then something happened. The phone rang, and I muted the television.

The young man answered the phone and started talking to someone, calling her dear. He closed his robe, so I figured it was his wife. He placed his index finger over his lips, warning me to be quiet. I placed my index finger over my grinning mouth, and I opened his robe up, exposing a hard penis.

I started licking his penis, and I noticed his voice went up an octave, before he coughed, excusing himself to his wife. He was conversing with her, obviously he was on a business trip like myself. I continued to glide my tongue over his penis, paying particular attention to the ridge below his penis cap.

He listened more than talked. I was paying complete attention to his penis, although I heard him say that he could talk with her for hours. He wanted me to give him a blow job while he was on the phone. I encircled his penis with my lips, and I began silently moving up and down.

He covered the mouthpiece, and I continued. I could taste a small amount of precum which leaked from his penis, and I continued. My hair was falling over my face, and I believe it was tickling his legs because he placed one hand over one of his legs. I continued to move my head up and down, being careful not to be too loud. I played with his lovely cap with my tongue each time I moved my hear upward.

"What happened next," he said to his wife, and I continued to suck his penis, it getting harder and larger. He was covering the mouthpiece and biting his hand, trying not to say anything. He placed his hand on my head, wanting me to stop because of his wife. I simply used my tongue to continue the oral stimulation.

Then it happened. He spewed all over the inside of my mouth, some of the semen dripping onto his robe and my face. He hung up the phone with his thumb as he came, not saying goodbye or anything.

"Fuck yes," he said, and I continued to manipulate him with my mouth. He came again, and then he started becoming flaccid. The phone rang again.

"We got cut off," he said as soon as the receiver was at his mouth.

"Sweetie, I need to get some sleep before the meeting tomorrow." He then hung up, turning his attention to me. I told him I needed to get to bed soon myself, and I suggested that the blow job was more than adequate repayment of freeing me.

I cleaned myself up, choosing to leave the butt plug in my bottom. I was getting used to the pressure by now. I gave the young man my panties, not wanting to remember everything that happened that night, and partly because I knew he wanted a memento for the occasion. My guess is that I was only the second woman to ever see his penis, let alone touch it. I went down to the front desk, and I said I had locked myself out of my room.

They gave me a replacement key, and I returned to my room. Before I entered the room, I noticed that the crack below the door was dark.

My "friends" were either asleep or gone, I had hoped.

I opened the door, and I found Ross alone in my bed. I turned on the light, and he quickly awoke.

"My wife had to go home and get the kids from the babysitter. I stayed to see that you made it safely back here. We were worried about you."

"Bullshit," I said.

"You just did not want me to press charges."

"Did you remember what you did to me earlier this evening. I would say we were even. I would love to hear how you got out of the handcuffs and plugs."

"You are right," I answered, "We are even. And I still have the butt plug inside of me."

"Let me take it out," you half asked, half demanded.

"Okay," I answered, "but you will have to take it out without your fingers."

Ross seemed to enjoy that answer, and I squatted doggie style, still in my dress. Ross started biting the hem of my dress, trying to pull it above my bottom.

He was not having too much luck, and I pulled it up for him. He then noticed that the butt plug was deep inside of me.

He started trying to grab it with his teeth, and it tickled and hurt at the same time. As he grabbed the plug between his teeth, I tightened my ass, and I felt his teeth slip off of the plug. He tried again, me again tightening, and then the plug slipping loose.

The third time he gripped it, he growled a little and then I felt it start coming out. I did not tighten, as I really enjoyed the feeling of him slowly taking it out of my arse.

He pulled it all of the way out, and it fell to the floor. He then muttered something about "Poor angel," and he started licking my sore asshole with his tongue.

I felt dirty and excited. He continued to lick my hole, exciting me greatly. I had had to pee a little while ago, but the feeling completely subsided. He pushed his tongue inside of my hole, and I could feel his teeth and nose press against my cheeks.

He must have licked me for ten minutes, and my legs were growing weak.

Ross asked if I wanted to go to the bed, and I shook my head "yes."

Ross turned me over so that my back was on the bed, and he began kissing me on the lips. I was returning the kiss, lost in the moment, when I felt his penis enter my vagina for the second time.

He fucked me fast and furious, coming before I was ready for him to cum. His face had a pained expression on it, and he was not worried about whether I had cum, that much I knew.

Afterwards, he stayed inside of me for some time. I did not want to say anything, feeling his penis shrink inside of me. When he got off of me and started dressing, I awoke.

I fell asleep with him in me. He mentioned that his wife wanted me fucked good.

When he left, I was afraid that he may have impregnated me.

I would be scared the rest of the month.

This ends the story of the first time Ross, Debbie, and I met.

---

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.

Trick or Treat Part III

As we got back to the room, thoughts of dread filled my head. I wondered how Ross was doing. Sure I was pissed that he wanted to lie to his wife that I was a hooker, but does that deserve me paying some man to butt fuck him without his permission? No. There was a chance that he enjoyed it, but knowing Ross the way that I do, I had a feeling it really freaked him out. I also did not like him using the name John instead of Ross. I thought it was disingenuous.

All of these hostile feelings began dissipating after I entered the hotel room. Ross looked helpless. "Miss us?" I offered as we crossed the threshold of the room.

I took the handcuff keys from the dresser and unlocked them. "I bet your wrists hurt, sweetie," I said. Debbie looked at Ross and then at me, and she said, "Slip into John's position for a while." I paused momentarily, almost forgetting that Rossâ name was John.

I had kept the name deception straight all night so far, and I almost slipped up. I slipped one of my wrists into a cuff and shut it with my other hand.

Then I offered a wrist to Debbie. "Cuff me, sweetie." She cuffed the other cuff, and I was now helpless. As soon as I heard the mechanism snap into place, Debbie said, "Bitch." That did not sound promising. "Debbie," she said to me (remembering from the other stories that we were both named Debbie) and she touched my jaw, positioning my face so that I was looking at her on the bed, "we are going to play a little game, sort of like 20 questions.

I will ask you a series of questions, and you will answer Yes or No." Debbie paused for a moment, then corrected herself, "You will say Yes and lick me when you mean No."

Then Debbie unbuttoned her pants, slipping out of them quickly, making the bed move a little under her preparations. She then removed her panties, revealing herself to me and to her husband. She went over to her purse and took something from it, giving it to her husband. I tried to see it, but I could not turn my head far enough to see the transaction.

She then got back on the bed, spreading her legs so I had access to her vagina. When she mentioned licking, she meant licking. Debbie began the questions: "Has my husband ever paid to have sex with you?"

"No," I answered, then remembered the rules. "Sorry."

"Debbie, you know the rules. John, please spank Debbie for forgetting."

I felt Ross hit me with something made of wood. It stung a little, but surprisingly, it really did not hurt. I quickly licked Debbie's cunny, knowing that this would satisfy her.

"I believe you, Debbie," she said.

"Have you ever met John?" I licked her cunny a little slower, remembering that I might be in better shape if she enjoyed the licking.

"I do not believe you. Spank her John.

" Another hit. And then another.

"Again, have you ever met John before tonight." I licked her again, and I received another hit.

"John, plug her up. What size butt plug would you like?" "None," I answered. "Use the big one, John," responded Debbie. I knew she wanted to control the whole situation, but I did not want her too. Then I felt a cold gel on my arse, and then Rossâ finger in my arsehole.

I then felt Ross placed the large butt plug in my arsehole.

It was very uncomfortable. Ross then hit me again, and part of the wood hit the butt plug, and it hurt so much more.

Debbie grabbed me by the hair and said, "Don't lie to me again, bitch." Has John ever been in your little asshole before?" Debbie asked. I licked her again, slowly tracing my tongue along her large labial lips. I received three more stinging spanks. I began to suspect that Ross wanted to spank me.

"Debbie, do not lie to me. I am sure John, or should I say Ross, is spanking you with more vigor now. I know Ross christened your ass last night."

"Did you enjoy Ross fucking your ass last night?," continued Debbie.

"Yes," I answered.

"Ross, hit her for enjoying herself with a married man."

Three more hard hits, each one nicking the butt plug.

My ass was on fire.

"Debbie, Ross wants you now, I can tell. But his ass is sore from the spanking I gave him when I found out about you. He told me that you would not allow him in your vagina, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Would you allow my husband in your vagina right now?"

I began licking Debbie's vagina greedily, wanting to convey how I did not want her husband in me. I parted her smaller lips with my tongue, and I tasted her sex in my mouth. I knew she was enjoying this. I traced her outer lips with my tongue occasionally, doing what I enjoy when my husband licks me. Debbie then did something totally unexpected. She got up, a bit unsteady on her feet, but she got up nonetheless.

I could tell she was behind me, and she asked, "Do you want my husband to fuck your little cunt?"

"No," I said, and I received a hard hit, by her, I am sure.

"My husband is really ready for a fuck. Can he fuck you in the cunt?"

"No." Two hard hits.

"Can he fuck your little pussy?"

"No."

Three additional hits, two took a direct hit on the butt plug. I was in agony.

"Yes," I screamed.

"Yes, what?"

Debbie asked me.

"Yes, I would like your husband in my vagina."

"Call it a pussy, Debbie," Debbie answered.

"Yes, I would like your husband in my pussy."

"Open yourself for my husband," Debbie said laughing, then added, "I will do the honors since you are a little tied up now."

Debbie spread me open, and almost immediately, I felt Ross inside of me.

"Yes," is the only word Ross said. Ross was fucking me doggie style, and I could tell that Debbie was kissing her husband.

He was pawing her and fucking me. This I could tell. It was not long before I felt Ross empty himself into me, the first two squirts being incredibly strong, spewing his cum deep inside of my unprotected vagina.

He continued to cum, continued to deposit his sperm into me. He stayed in me until her was completely flaccid.

It was a great fuck, but now I could not tell my husband that another guy had not been in me since we have been married. I felt guilty and was beginning to feel cold.

Debbie instructed Ross to uncuff my left handcuff.

Ross then untied it from the bed. "Nice cuffs," Ross said after inspecting the handcuffs.

They were very sturdy, needed to be since they needed to restrict Ross when he was getting buttfucked.

"Stand up," instructed Debbie. Because my other wrist was still cuffed to the bed, I was leaning to one side.

Ross then took both my wrists behind my back, his strong hands securely clutching them. He then uncuffed the other cuffs. Debbie then instructed me to clean up and get dressed. She told me not to remove the sore butt plug just yet.

I got completely dressed, even putting my panties over myself, which obscured the butt plug from view. Ross then took my wrists and began kissing them.

I started to lower my guard, and just then he put both hands behind my back, deftly cuffing me before I knew what was going on. Debbie then asked for the keys. She placed them in a small plastic container and sealed the container.

"Neat small butt plug," she said, showing it to me in front of my face.

"It even has a small area to carry things. Debbie pulled up my dress in front, and then pulled my panties down past my vagina.

She stared at my vagina for a moment, and said, "Still wet, I see."

She then shoved the cold hard plastic container into my vagina and put my panties on again. She smoothed my dress down, and then looked me over. She went to the bathroom and got a hand towel, then draped the hand towel over my handcuffs, hiding them.

Debbie then explained:

"It is now about 12:30 a.m., and most of the guests in this hotel are asleep. I hope you can find a Good Samaritan to help you out of your predicament. Of course, I would guarantee that any guy would love to dig into your pussy and remove the key.

But why would he unlock such a taste fuck? Unless you want to let us release you and tell your husband what you have been doing these last two days."

"No, don't tell my husband," I pleaded. With this Debbie said, "Good luck," and kissed me on the mouth, inserting the tip of her tongue in my mouth. I bit her tongue, to which she replied, "Bitch.

Funny thing is that I was just going to scare you and have Ross take off the cuffs. Not now."

With that, she pushed me out of the hotel room. I was fucked. Please e-mail me if you want to see what will happen next.

---

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.