"Hey Mom?" I said, answering the knock at my bedroom door.
"How are you, dear?" My mom said as she poked her head through my door.
"I'm fine, just playing Terraria. What's up?"
"Could you come with me to the living room please?"
"Sure thing." I said, getting up out of my gaming chair and following her downstairs to the living room.
"Adam, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just come out and say it: Dad and I are worried that you might be gay." My mom said as she sat down on our big brown couch.
And Whosoever Will Be First Among You, Let Her Be Your Servant.
Ryan looks up at the stately building. He last visited here on a Grade 6 field trip, seven years ago. This would be a very different experience.
Ryan walks through the main door, passes through a scanner at a security checkpoint, and follows signs downstairs to the West Service Rooms, where another security guard waits behind a window.
"I'm Ryan Ganter, I have a 1400 hours appointment," he says to the guard.
"ID, please?"
Ryan shows him an ID, and the guard swipes it on his computer. "Yes, you're in W7. This is your first time, it says. Welcome.
They stood in the dunes, feeling the sensation returning slowly to their clammy bodies. She grasped the two ends of the massive sheet together, behind his shoulder blades.
Then she stood up on tiptoes slightly, and his thumbs slipped slightly into under the elastic of her pants. She gave a sigh, relaxing into his embrace, and he instinctively pushed her wet knickers down, feeling as they rolled over on themselves as they slipped down her ass. He followed by pulling her wet tee shirt up over her shoulders, where she tugged it over her head, and tossed back by the bags.
Surrounded by flimsy, billowing nylon, the wind howled outside. The fly sheet occasionally touching the inner when the buffeting storm blew strongly enough, and patches of damp were beginning to appear where the outside was attempting to breach the inner. The light was fading outside and somehow the dankness of the evening was everywhere within. He stayed at the campsite while the others had headed for the village in the coast of Southwest Ireland. Local lads had told of a party, beer, and ‘opportunity’.
I awoke to the unthinkable; Columbus High school had had a fatal shooting. I stood in shock as the news broadcast told the story about a outsider kid who got fed up with being made fun of and went nuts in the schools main courtyard with his Dad’s handgun, killing two and injuring thirteen before he killed himself.
Although this wasn’t the first time something like this happened in the country, but what made it so much of a shock for me was that Columbus High was not five miles from the high school I go to now; Longpark.
As I sat and ate breakfast I thought about how bad it must have been for the shooter. Getting made fun of was nothing new to me. I’m six feet tall and skinny, and I’m not really a vision of popularity. I know what it is like to get constantly harassed by everyone at school.
"We'll go to my house for the rest of the night," said Melody. Agnes and the Three Amigos followed her to a small stone house along the dirt street of the village. Inside was a single room with an overlooking loft. A fireplace was at the center of one wall, crude kitchen cupboards and a dining table were at the other. Cushions and pillows were scattered around the floor. "Burt and Melody, the Mayor and his wife, live no better than I do," thought Agnes. "Equality is the norm here. I like that."
Agnes stood uncomfortably at the center of the room, surrounded by the three naked men and Melody, equally naked. Harry, the short Asian, took command. He wrapped his arms around Agnes and kissed her passionately on her lips and pulled her hand down to his erect cock. She explored the length of his cock with her hand.
Harry pulled his lips away from her. "Did that feel good?"
"Oh, yes," she said, eager for more kissing, more exploration."
Dick's turn," Harry answered. "If that's okay with you."
"Yes," she said again as middle-sized Dick pulled her to him and, this time, her hand found his cock without assistance. It was another long kiss, and his tongue went into her mouth and she stroked his cock.
"My turn," said Tom, She broke away from Dick and closed with Tom, who was so tall that she had to stand on her toes to reach his face. He lifted her off her feet, put his hands beneath her hips, and she curled her legs around him and felt is cock probing her cunt; but only barely, and she felt the uncircumcised skin moving back and forth, caressing her.
"Don't forget me," said Melody. "I'm not just a potted plant standing here."
Agnes looked up from where she was kneeling in her vegetable garden. It was Burt, President of the City Council of Heavenly Aden. It was hot and she was wearing only a pair of shorts and a white blouse. Her hands were soiled with dirt. "Hello, Burt," she answered with enthusiasm. "Welcome!" She stood up and walked over to where he was standing and kissed him on the cheek. For her that was bold.
"I came to apologize," he said.
"What for?" she was puzzled. "I should have fucked you the other night. I focused only on what I wanted, and didn't take your needs into account." Burt had masturbated and cummed on her tits
.Agnes, with less that a week in Heaven, still flinched at the word fuck. "Oh," she said, dismissing his apology, "That's all right. Harold, uh, fucked me good. I was happy." She chuckled. "Maybe for my first sex experience one man was enough. And I enjoyed watching you, uh, cum on me.”
The spirit of Sister Agnes met a bearded, white-robed figure with a benevolent smile standing just outside the pearly gates. "Saint Peter?" she asked. She was wearing the same kind of white robe which, frankly, was a bit thin and translucent for her taste.
"Call me Pete. We don't stand on ceremony here," he answered. "I am as you wish me to be. At your service, Sister Agnes. May I call you Agnes?"
'Yes, of course, uh, Pete. I don't quite know what to say. This looks exactly as I thought it would look. Even to the cherubs sitting on clouds. And the harp music. Everything is so white and clean.
"Your imagination makes it what it is," answered Peter. "Welcome to heaven! Your reward for a life well lived."
In May of my senior year in high school, summer came early. It was in the high 80's every afternoon, and we were sweltering in the ancient high school as the air conditioner struggled to keep up. Desiree and I sweated through morning classes and afternoon study halls, longing to be out of there, somewhere cooler and more private. We were both 18, and the restrictions of school were almost over. That made them even harder to bear!
Desiree should have been born in the 60's. Everything about her reflected a kinder, gentler, and groovier vibe than the 90's were comfortable with; in short, she was a hippie. She wore patterned peasant skirts, thin cotton T-shirts with mandalas and such, beads all over the place, Birkenstocks, and course, a peace-sign medallion. All of these things drew my eyes to her right away, but they in no way hid the luscious body beneath and behind them. She had long brown hair that fell in soft curls below her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown, her lips deep red and shaped like Cupid's bow. Full tits and wide hips stretched her garments tight in all the right places. Best of all, her skin was translucent and flawless, even in the dead of winter.
I continued for another hour and a half before finally calling it a day. The garden was looking great, and Mrs. Taylor was extremely grateful. I even got a "looks good" response from Mr. Taylor -- definite progress.
"Would it be okay if I used your shower to clean up?" I asked Mrs. Taylor.
"Of course, dear. There should be fresh towels already out."
"Lovely, thanks, Mrs. Taylor."
I was just about to go up the stairs when Madison and Becky were coming down in the opposite direction.
"Becky is just going home to get ready for tonight."
The teacher sat there, just staring outward from his desk. He wore a look that said he didn't want to be here anymore than we did.
The classroom itself was virtually empty. It was just me and one other student.
It was a girl called Madison and she was sitting on the far end of the table, opposite me.
I could see she was busy writing away on a piece of paper, prompting me to glance down at the piece of paper in front of me. I appeared to have written down 'I love Madison' at least a hundred times.
Luckily for me, my room was on the ground floor, as my building has no elevators. I had my key on a lanyard around my neck, and I unlocked the door. I let her precede me inside, and I shut the door once I got in. She looked around the room, which I usually keep fairly neat, but lately it's been immaculate. I am not as active with crutches, so I've stayed in a fair bit the last couple of weeks. And I clean when I get bored.
"Your room is so neat. I expected, um, sorry, a pigsty. You know, 'guy'?"
