One part only Darlas Gift Darla had been married twice before. Once, she married for young love, and the second time for security. Both marriages brought neither. Both husbands lacked the same basic skill that Darla was negligent in herself, communication. She was too shy and embarrassed to explain to each poor, suffering man that the reason their sex life was so boring was because she wanted

Mary woke and looked about her, the late afternoon sun streamed through bars on a window. She was in a cell naked, the heavy iron door closed; she felt down between her legs, she was caked with dry cum. Her clit and nipples were no longer distended, her pussy bruised. She sighed, curled up and went back to sleep. A couple of hours later she awoke with a large black hand gently shaking her shoulder, she looked up into a guards face, he beckoned

Hi my name is Jimmy and I live in Manchester, England I currently attend Manchester University. Im bi-sexual an no-one knew this till last week, not my girl Clare, my friends or my american roommate John. It all started two weeks ago when after shagging my girl I ended up back at the flat with that same guilty feeling cos I realised i just wasnt enjoying it like I did with lads. John was sat down on the sofa watching something , maybe the news. I asked if he wanted to watch a dvd and he told me to get scarface out of his room.

I like it, although its not as exciting as cooking in a really good restaurant on a busy night, when your whites end up soaked in sweat and you come away with a few extra burns on your already scarred and blistered hands, and you end up getting drunk with the other guys, exhausted but triumphant, and maybe even having a quick sympathy fuck...okay, okay, that last bit doesnt happen very often, but it does happen occasionally. The catering gig is relatively low-pressure. Most of the pressure is about making sure that everything is what the client wants, which does not necessarily mean that its what the client asked for. Most clients do not know what they want.

Chapter During her first year, Chiara was conditioned to withstand the harshest beatings. They called it stamina enhancement sessions, as day after day, men and women passed to dish out floggings that could not have been survived anywhere else. Eventually, she had reached a level where she could be kept conscious for days under the instruments and even surpassed the stamina of her tormentors. The mental anguish of being unable to drift off into unconsciousness or insanity, coupled with the seemingly endless succession

Boot-y girl part ;What a fine morning indeed,; he thought, as the alarm gently rang and woke him. He stretched his long hard body, and looked out the window, at the lean-to outbuilding his new boot-toy was languishing in. He couldnt help but let out a deep chuckle as his member came to life. He fondled its girth to full life for a few minutes before getting out of his bed, and with cock in hand, padded to the front door. His dog, Steal, right behind him- ready for his morning walk followed his master with no uncertainty. You would think he could almost smell the lust in the air, his dog-nose picking up on all the scents of the day to come.

They held me in that position long after the camera had stopped and I began to wonder why I was still being held when, suddenly I saw from between my legs, the young girl approach me. I felt her hands gently touch my penis and testicles which hung down from between my widely spread thighs. She took a firm hold of my testicles and proceeded to tap her fingers against the tip of my penis. I could only gasp and groan in utter misery as I was stretched wide while the fingers of the young girl deftly aroused my penis. "Arghhhhhhh oooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh h.

It was about nine o;clock in the morning when I met my escort, Marsha, and we headed for Wood Haven. Marsha was in her late forties and obviously wasn;t wearing a bra. I could see her delicious nipples straining at the front of her T-shirt. The school had sent a limousine and we sat in the back, ostensibly so we could talk about what I was going to see that day.

The restaurant was dimly lit, probably in a fashion the owner thought would represent romance and intrigue. There were not many patrons in the place, quite understandable considering the weather. The woman seated me in a little alcove on the side of the restaurant. There was only one other table where another lone man sat. A window looked out toward the parking lot, but all that could be reasonably seen was the sheet of rain. The woman left and shortly a waiter appeared. I order a steak, rare, but not bloody, a baked potato and some coffee. The waiter scurried off. I looked at the wine list. I noticed that the man at the other table looked up to greet a woman coming

Alex Summers was in a good mood. The phone call that he had just made would ensure that he could now treat himself to a new car and perhaps a foreign holiday. He was long overdue for a bit of R and R, he mused as he sipped his coffee and made his way through the kitchen towards the connecting door that led to his garage. The garage was large by such standards. Three large double doors dominated one entire wall.