Memorial Day was just around the corner and Sindy was excited! She and Ryan had consummated their relationship over New Year's Eve and the following few days and now the two of them were living together in her apartment.
The relationship was still a bit of a secret from Sindy's parents. They knew she had a boyfriend but they had no idea how serious the relationship was. They also had no idea that he was living in the apartment they paid for every month.
In her freshman year at Northwestern Sindy had started working at a local coffee shop where she met Ryan. Ryan was five years older than Sindy, on the verge of graduating and merely looking at him made Sindy’s pulse race faster.
Ryan for his part was initially unaware of Sindy’s interest in him. But over the course of the year he’d come to the coffee shop to study and he gradually started to notice the cute girl with the blonde hair always staring at him. He found himself appreciating the graceful curve of her modest breasts and her almost ever-present smile.
It was a few days before the end of September when Ryan asked Sindy if she’d like to go out for a date sometime. Naturally she said yes.
A tall, shaggy-haired fella came up from the basement guest
bedroom, then strode the hallway, and called up the staircase to her 2nd story
bedroom, from near the front door. Lindsey felt her stomach flutter once again.
Jackson was actually back from college. In his hand, he carried a suitcase of
his own, and a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He smiled at her as she came
down the big oak stairs, and she nodded.
What had started out with the potential for so much
disappointment, my first Christmas away from home, was actually quite
wonderful. The family embraced me and treated me as one of their own. Dinner
was scrumptious, a Christmas ham, with the full complement of side dishes.
After dinner we chatted, drank a little too much spiked eggnog, and told
stories of the last few years.
After my first semester in College, I was eager to go home
for the holidays. I was going to school in Rochester, New York, and anybody
who'd experienced the lake-effect winters on the Great Lakes would understand
my desire to get to somewhere warmer.
For me, that somewhere warmer was a long ways away. As a
military brat, home was often a moving target, and that winter it was Santiago,
Chile, where my father was stationed and where I'd graduated high-school. It
was summer in Santiago, and I was looking forward to a pool-party with my old
school mates for the Holidays.
Christmas Moonlight by the Glenn Miller Band played on the
RCA Victor radio as Lillian O'Brady looked at herself in the full-length
mirror. She was happy with the way she looked in her wedding dress. The sleeveless,
tea-length gown gave her a flirtatious and fun look but not so much that she
gave away traditional modesty. The slender bodice and fuller skirt emphasized
the curves of her chest and hips.
She had made the dress herself from a McCall's pattern and
was very proud of how it came out. Not only did it compliment her body but also
her frugal lifestyle. As she pivoted around to check all the angles there was a
knock at the door.
On Christmas Eve, I should have been out spending time with family or friends, but instead, I was in my sparsely-filled apartment, with a wine glass in my hand; all dressed up but nowhere to go. I put on my gold sequin mini dress thinking that I could maybe go out to a club.
But when the time came, I wasn't really feeling it. I had just moved to a new city; far from my family and friends; and although I had enjoyed the freedom of walking around in the nude whenever I wanted, it was getting a bit lonely. I never pictured myself in my early twenties and still single. All of my friends were either married, engaged, or dating. I was totally lagging behind. I was hornier than I had ever been in my life.
In college I could barely concentrate on class and I never took notes because I was always thinking and developing some sexual fantasy in my head that took my full attention. I go by ‘Mindy’. My parents named me Melinda, but I hate that name. I hate a lot of the things associated with high school. I was a wierdo. Then in college, I was a nerd.
But Haley and I discovered their shameful secrets.
"I'll rip your fucking dick off; and stuff it down your
fucking throat, if you knock-up my daughter." It was Mr. Boyd Summers, the
father of my girlfriend Haley. He was very angry.
Haley and I, both 18, having recently graduated from high
school were sitting in her parents' kitchen listening to the diatribe from
Haley's father.
Haley spoke up, "Daddy,
we're not doing anything like that. Please don't say things like that."
I opened the door and stepped inside, announced by a
jingling bell.
"Dale, good morning," Brooke said, standing and
extending her hand.
Clad in tight black slacks, a red blouse, her dark hair held
in place by a large gold clasp, and shoes with moderate heels, I was reminded
that she was an attractive lady. And that didn't include the unforgettable pale
blue eyes.
"Good to see you, Brooke. I'm ready to sign
whatever."
"I have the papers ready." She spread some papers
across her desk.
The five of us, Joey’s parents and mine; flew to
California to meet the ship that brought Joey home. We didn't get to see him at
the dock. He was whisked into an ambulance that we tried to follow in our
rental car.
At the hospital, his doctor took us to his office. Joey had
been shot and captured. His injuries weren't life-threatening, and they stopped
the bleeding at a Viet Cong field hospital. He was taken to a prison camp for
debriefing.
"The heat waves shimmered in the distance, rising off
the sand in an unmerciful display of mother nature's authority. We lay where we
had been for hours, in the only good cover around. Off to the left, we heard
enemy snipers, the gunfire signaling the start of another day in Hell."
That was part of a letter Joey wrote after his unit fought
its way back to base camp. He wrote as often as he could. Sometimes, I'd find a
stack of his letters in the mailbox when I got home from work, and then, I
wouldn't hear from him for a while. Whenever his family got any news, they
would call me or visit to share the letter. I did the same for them. I always
let my folks and Joey's read what we wrote, including the parts where Joey and
I talked about getting married when he got home.
"Good morning, Jake," his mother said when he came
downstairs for breakfast.
"Morning Mom," he smiled at her. "Something
smells good."
"Scrambled eggs and bacon," she smiled. It was
still his favorite.
Jake just smiled, made a plate for himself, and his mother,
and sat down at the table while she was taking the last of the eggs out of the
pan and putting them into the bowl that he had just half emptied to make their
plates.
Jake awoke from what was apparently a very good dream since
he could feel his erection straining against his boxers. Lying on his side,
facing the wall, he was still in that transition between sleep and wakefulness.
Taking a deep breath and stretching he noticed a distinct and familiar smell.
It was floral and fresh with a hint of strawberry. He started to roll over but
something was pressed against his back. Craning his head around the first thing
he saw were bare feet with red painted toe nails, ankles crossed with one foot
lightly bouncing. Turning his head further, he saw bare legs, smooth, shapely,
tan, and athletic. He next saw blue-jean shorts over narrow hips, a tucked in
white tee shirt concealing firm, proud tits, one of which was covered by a
cascade of blue-black hair which came almost to the waist, a long slender neck,
clean jawline, supple lips, narrow nose, and deep emerald green eyes. The eyes,
and the lips, held a smile as Jake looked at his unexpected visitor.
When we got back to our room, Gretchen went into the
bathroom and changed into her pajamas. I changed back into a t-shirt and
basketball shorts. She sat up cross-legged on her side of the bed, leaning back
on the padded headboard. I stretched out on mine.
"Pretty spectacular day," I said.
"It really was," she agreed. "I hope
I didn't ruin the evening for you."
"Not at all. I had fun at the pool." It
had been sort of obvious that she hadn't really wanted to hang out with Tom and
Melissa, any more than we did. I could understand. I've never fantasized of
doubles matches either. Besides, it had been a long day.
Forward: The students in this story are
in their final semester of Rhode Heritage Preparatory School ,in Rhode Island.
The school systems in Rhode Island have a custom of waiting until a child is 7
years old, to accept them into first grade. Hence, the 12th grade
class is also a year older, and all of them are 18 years old. Copies of their
birth certificates are on file in the principal's office. Rhode Island has some
other approaches to social issues, like granting tax credits to parents whose
teenage girls are compliant with reliable birth standards. It saves the state
millions in otherwise inevitable welfare programs. Most girls opt for the
implanted hormone, but some chose the IUD. This is also said to be a reason
Rhode Island girls have bigger tits, because of the added hormone-based birth
control. Thank you, governor!
That was the word, Maeve thought, right out of some ancient
Greek story, like The Odyssey; a 'brazen' sky. She smiled a little, thinking
that her English teacher, Mrs. Pensey, would be pleased by her remembering.
Her smile didn't last too long, for this sky was
beyond hot. It lay like a low, searing bronze lid over the town, the oven-like
temperatures scarcely relieved by the odd feeble twitch of stale, dusty breeze.
Air conditioners across the region wheezed in failing attempts to keep up. The
demand had become so high that the electrical system was struggling and
consumers had been warned of possible rolling service interruptions to avoid a
complete collapse.
Kaitlyn was
a charity case, and I knew it. Of course, I always held a sense of guilt about
that knowledge because I had to keep her from figuring it out. Oddly, for how
often I'd acted as a surrogate older brother to her, she was a year older than
me at nineteen. She'd been held back at least once to my knowledge, making her
a junior when I was enrolling in college full time. Kaity was a bit distraught
at the thought of me moving on and leaving her to fend for herself in her
remaining two (given her track record, possibly more) years of high school.
Cam was all smiles when she arrived, effusive with
compliments over how gorgeous he thought she looked. That helped clear the air,
and the two fell right back into their conversation, picking up where they left
off and talking into the night until the place closed down and they were forced
to leave.
Rachel stared at herself in her bathroom mirror before going
across the street to meet him. She was playing coy, but was under no
misconceptions about what she wanted. She looked at her body as she zipped her
sweatshirt over her naked breasts. A lot had happened since that night in the
tent after prom, she had learned a lot. She had learned what she wanted and
couldn't have. She learned how to suck cock. She wondered if Tim had learned a
lot too.
Forward:
This is a story featuring Rachel from the explicit novel, “Sex Ed. Lessons”. meant to
flesh out her side of the journey. While it would definitely make things richer
if you've read that series, this is written to stand on its own. And if you
have read that series, and you notice that some small details don't exactly
line up with the events of ‘Sex Ed Lessons’, don't worry about it.
"Wait;
Mrs. Bateman; she paid to have sex with me?"
"Yes,
Todd."
"I
don't believe it; She's beautiful, I'd have fucked her for free! Any guy
would!"
"True,
but she's married and discretion is of vital importance. That is half of what
she's paying for. A great fuck is the other half. And she said it was worth
every penny. In fact she wants to come back next Friday, same time."
As I stood
there trying to come to grips with this revelation, Mrs. Bateman knelt on the
bed, her face pressed into the wet sheets. She inhaled the scent and moaned. I
glanced over and saw far enough under her skirt to see she was wearing thigh
high stockings rather than pantyhose. I stepped closer and lifted her skirt.
She was panty-less. I touched her pussy and found she was very wet.
Way back in
1977, I was a naive 18-year-old. Summer was here and I wanted to spend it
having fun. I was going to start college in the fall and luckily, didn't have
to work. Mom and Dad were fortunate and made good money. He was the VP of
Advertising and Marketing for a major energy company and Mom was actually a
successful author. I had a generous allowance and a car (a white '73 BMW) It
had been Dad's, and he gave it to me at graduation.
Six more people showed up for the nature hike. The first of
the six to join them was a girl and a guy who seemed to be a couple because
they were all over each other, kissing and lightly running their hands across
each other's bodies. The guy made no effort to hide the result from all of that
petting and kissing. What they were doing wasn't overtly sexual, but the fact
that they were naked meant that every touch was direct to the body.
Growing up, Cameron had always wanted to spend the summer at
camp, but his parents could never afford it. He had worked a full-time job
during his junior and senior years of high school to help his parents out with
the bills. Any money that he didn't give to help his parents went towards his
college savings. He had gotten nearly a full-ride scholarship thanks to his
excellent grades and still finding some time for a few extracurricular
activities. Now that he had some extra money, He decided he would finally
indulge in his boyhood dream of going off to camp before he had to go out on
his own into the world.
The afternoon and early evening hours dragged on
uneventfully. I had bathed (again), and put on a dark wool shirt and faded
jeans. While the snow continued falling, I snacked on cookies and
absentmindedly tried to watch part of a football game. Flipping off the TV, I
tried surfing some porn, but the flavor of mint chocolate cookies drew my
thoughts back to the taste of a luscious young Girl Scout Leader's lips and the
feeling of a tight pussy enveloping my cock.
Stepping from the shower, on this blustery cold November
Saturday morning; I caught a reflection of my masculine nude body in the
full-length mirror on the back of my bathroom door. I'd always wished I was
taller than my 5 foot 10 inches, but I had no other regrets about the muscular
build of my toned 36-year-old body.
Lying there
in bed, the feel of my wife's mouth and tongue as she teasingly pleasured me
was erotic enough. Marsha could suck cock like nobody's business, and she was
driving me nuts just as she knew she could. But what I also enjoyed was the
fact she got aroused, turned on whenever I shared any experiences, any stories
with her, just as she was now. And just as she so often did for me too.
"So
what happened after that night?" She then asked. I was having trouble
concentrating, but then I drifted back in time...remembering.
It had been
a very long time since I'd seen many of my old high school friends and buddies.
The last time had been at the ten year reunion, this would be the thirty year
reunion, and I knew that most of us would have changed between now and then;
dramatically.
Although I
was still in reasonably good shape, even without working out specifically, I
had still put on a few pounds, but with the exception of a few perhaps, I
figured everyone would be in the same boat as I was. I still had a full head of
dark hair, though I had noticed just a sprinkle of gray had begun at the
temples. The one thing about myself I had always considered my best feature
however, were my eyes, bright blue with just a hint of gray in them. There was
a caption in the yearbook next to my photo, it read: "Bedroom eyes".
Driving home the next day felt like waking up from some kind
of dream until I pulled into our driveway and Munchkin came running out to
greet me. As I was getting out to reassure him that he hadn't been abandoned,
the reality of my life settled right back in. I went inside, and Lane and Mary
grunted their hellos without looking up.
"When I was fourteen, Mr. Johnson introduced me to a
friend of his, Henry White, who was a master plumber. Henry was a
high-functioning alcoholic whose temper had driven away all his old apprentices
and journeymen. Luckily, I was always big for my age, and Mr. Johnson assured
Henry that I was seventeen, turning eighteen in the next few months, so he took
me on with the promise to make me an apprentice as soon as I was old enough. By
the time that Henry learned my actual age, he had come to rely on me so much
that he kept me on."
As we finished the prep work, I asked Wilma about her
day with Mary.
"She is a good kid but is carrying a lot of anger and
shame. We spent most of the day getting in touch with that anger. It takes some
people years before they can express their emotions through art; it took her
about five minutes. But we had to take some breaks to clean up the paint
splatters afterward before they stained."
The Plumber, The Painter, and the Wind off the Lake
Prologue
I have never been much for
following instructions or doing what I'm told.
In eighth grade, we were assigned
to make a volcano in science class. I figured that if the eruption looked good
with a couple of tablespoons of baking soda, then it would look even better
with the whole container! And what better place for a natural disaster than the
teacher's desk at the front of the class. I was right; the whole container of
baking soda produced an impressive explosion. What I didn't count on, however,
was it producing a week-long suspension from school and a beating from my
mother.
I watched Kelly walk away, buck naked, down the hall towards
the bedroom. She was back in less than a minute, with a small box in her hand,
which she tossed on the coffee table. She knelt in front of me, looked me over,
and gently pushed me onto my back.
"The second time you'll last much longer. Now lie back
and enjoy," she said as she lay next to me.
She kissed me, deep and long, as her hand played over my
chest and stomach. One leg draped over my thigh, forcing my legs slightly
apart. Her touch moved lower, tracing an outline on my abdomen of my semi-hard
cock. A fingertip dragged lightly down my shaft, flooding my body with
electricity. Kelly looked down and watched as I became more erect under the
gentle touch of her thumb and forefinger, sliding up and down the length of my
cock.
The intervening weeks had done nothing make it fade the way
dreams do.
The unceasing obsessing took a toll on me and my thoughts
started spiraling uncontrollably. I became desperate enough to take my
anti-anxiety pills out of the medicine cabinet and hold the bottle in my hand
for close to an hour, staring at it. I hated those pills as they made me see
the world through a sort of veil and I always had the distinct feeling I was missing
something. I never felt like I was all there when I was on my meds. What saved
me in the end was I thought of Nico's eyes and a calming peace came over me.
The pressure slowly lifted off my chest and I put the bottle back without
taking one pill.
Nico stared at me as I finished my coffee. It had grown cold
but I couldn't bear to leave it unfinished. Finally, she said, "Back in a
moment," and walked off to the restrooms. A minute later she was back and
dropped a ball of green material in my lap as she sat back down. "Feel
it," she said, "Feel how wet you've made me."
Everyone
has a story about their first time. Some are sweet and romantic, some are
incredible, some are bizarre and some are disasters. My story may be all those
things rolled into one. When I think back even I have a hard time believing
what happened. I do know that I wouldn't be where I am today without the
incredible woman who dropped so suddenly into my life, a woman I met the fall
of my second year at college. I owe her so much.
Thomas.
She said; “if you like that, you should feel it without the
condom.”
She rolled off, pulled off the condom and threw it away. She
said “don't worry, my body is too drained from wrestling, I haven't had a
period in 3 months,” just before she slid back down on me. So hot, so tight, so
wet. I wasn't going to last long and she could see it in my face.
Being nearly a year older, I developed physically and
mentally at a pace the other guys couldn’t keep. It helped me get the girls’
attention and interest.
Sadly, my academic development was nothing to boast about.
Kaitlin was a sporty little blonde, with tiny tits, a tight
ass, brown eyes, a great smile and perfect teeth.
At last, Faith went to sleep Thursday night. In the early morning she awoke confused by the happening and sights of the night before. She was not sure if she had really seen her classmates, Christine and Jim; together in that alley, or had just dreamed the whole episode. As she became more awake, she began to remember making herself come and recalled the dreams that she had during the night. She recalled that most of her dreams had included an enormous erect penis floating in the air and attempting to enter pinhole size openings.
Faith shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the visions. The visions of the sexual activity continued to dance in her head, so she quietly got out of bed and took her shower. The hot water felt good as it cascaded down her body. The water created feelings in her similar to the feeling of the night before. As the feelings spread, she began to stroke her breasts and imagine what it would feel like if Steve, her boyfriend was caressing her
Forward:
This story is about a first time, two virgins no less. However, the setting is
in a dystopian future. If sci-fi is not your thing, you might still like this.
Be brave.
Many are
fascinated by the concept of the "mail order bride." It still occurs
today, but with instant communications, etc., it is not as interesting or
romantic as back in the "good old days" of the American Wild West.
Maybe this will happen again one day in the future, who knows?
Marco’s Day of Choosing
Marco Mendes finished climbing until he reached the top of
the hill. It wasn't a mountain or even a very tall hill, those were for the
rich. He wanted one last look around at his part of the Rio-Paulo Metropolitan
Area before he left. Colloquially known as Rio Paolo or Super Favela. Marco had
been told that Rio Paolo had over 150 million inhabitants. Rio Paolo is a city
in what used to be the old country of Brazil. Not that long ago, Brazil had
that many people in the whole country. He couldn't confirm this because there
was no longer access to the internet, nor were there things called
"encyclopedias." The old timers talked about being able to
"google" anything on the internet, but that was before the changes.
Now only the rich could "google" things if that even still existed.
Books didn't exist at all. Everything was on screens, and the screens only
showed what was allowed by the ‘Corporate Council’.
"Thank you all for your
participation today," Robert said through his microphone, "Thank you
for your patience once again for any technical difficulties we experienced
today. I think the glitches we ran into, though, were great ways to exercise
our tolerance of imperfection. I heard today that some of you have found
maintaining your progress in conquering obsessiveness to be difficult during
the pandemic restrictions. What's easy to forget, though, are the successes you
have made.
The guilt provoked by Mr. Jacobs' observation was fleeting,
and Emily texted me 3 days later, "Can we have another Valentine's Day
tonight?"
It was clear that the charade was over, and 'Valentine's
Day' was her chosen euphemism for spending less-than-wholesome time together.
Our relationship had become a dichotomy of two very different and
compartmentalized romances. One of a pure and honorable public courtship, and
the other of two young lovers clandestinely exploring physical passions.
As it turned out, I would learn a lot more about the subject
during NG group a couple weeks later. The study that week was on 'integrity in
relationships'. The study material was pretty general and covered all kinds of
relationships, both social and business. However, discussion among the
unmarried college students naturally morphed into a dialogue of biblical
perspectives on dating relationships and sexual purity.
I sit naked in an overstuffed leather armchair absorbing my
surreal surroundings.
The remnant scents of crushed rose petals and last night's
love making fill my nostrils while the gentle glow of dawn filters through
leaded glass windows and sheer drapery. Gold-leaf picture frames and an antique
clock face give off a slight radiance that contrast against the historic
mansion's otherwise dark furnishings and wood paneling. Of everything in the
room, the object most strikingly highlighted by the soft illumination is
Emily's smooth alabaster leg extending from underneath the king size bed's dark
duvet cover. The room is silent except for faint, deep breaths of slumber
emanating from beneath the duvet.
At
the casino, they decided to check in and visit the penthouse suite
before the pageant in the grand auditorium; and concert, in the 2nd
stage. They immediately ordered room service and enjoyed some fantastic
steak and lobster.
After
that, they went down past the slot machines and craps tables, then over
to the grand auditorium, The event team was relieved to see them and go
over the schedule. Michelle wanted to sit in the VIP section for most
of the event, then just wait to be signaled to go back stage to prep for
the coronation.
“Can we bring you to makeup, Mindy? We need to make sure the shine on your face is minimized.” The director explained.
Jackson said, “I’ll wait here while you get prepped, Mish, uh, Mindy.”
In
Rebecca’s 7th floor Condo, The Remedial Sex Ed class was enjoying a
swim party and game night. The 12 college students were all sexually
sated from the orgasmic contests, and simply basking in the comfort of a
supportive set of friends. While Bethany and Rebecca just completed a
housing agreement at the sofas’ where an ‘Apples To Apples’ game was
going on;
Devon
and five others were playing a Game of Catan, at the Dining Room
table. While Jackson and Alexis were negotiating a trade of Rock, for
Wood; Devon bravely struck up a conversation with Erika; “So, Erika, I
have two; no, three questions I’d love to find out from you. Tell me
your worst date, your best date, and your ideal date.
After
everyone had their fill of pizza and sodas, It began to dawn on several
of them just how exhausted their college lab had left them. When
Rebecca said goodnight to the last couple girls, she collapsed on the
sofa and woke up when the sunrise burst into her 7th floor condo
windows. She was high above the treeline, so it was just past 6am. The
last thing she recalled from the evening before, was Bethany mentioning
she needed to get to the bookstore before it closed at 8pm. Elizabeth
drove her back to campus.
Mr.
Garza pulled his still very stiff cock from Mrs. Garza’s wet pussy and
addressed the class from behind the sofa, "Well I hope you all enjoyed
today's lesson. Once you are properly recovered and all are dressed, you
may be dismissed. We will have one more session in this course, and
then you all will be all done with us. All of you are doing extremely
well. We hope the class has been both helpful and pleasurable for all of
you. Please remember our confidentiality pledge. Unless there is some
grave violation of the rules, you’re not in any danger of failing the
course."
All
the students looked up at their teachers, most of them still in a daze
from what had just happened. Eventually, all the students disconnected
from each other and put their clothes back on, and gathered their
things. They waited until all the students were dressed, before heading
out of the room.
