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“Bullshit.” Michael growled, sitting back down in his recliner. “You
owe it all to yourself. I just gave you a kick in the ass that got it
started. No excuse for letting yourself go to hell like that. None at all.”
He paused for a moment. “Do you still want to do this?”

She looked Harold up and down appraisingly. “Sure. Might be
instructive all around.”

Harold suddenly felt very alone and outnumbered. And a little worried.
“Um, somebody want to let me in on this?”

“Well,” she said, walking over to Harold, “Mikey and I had a little
talk last night, and I had this idea to, you know, prove just how far along
you had come in conquering your little problem.” She placed a hand on
Harold’s shoulder and traced it, feather light, down his shirtfront to his
belt buckle, which she hooked a finger into and tugged gently.

Harold swallowed hard, wondering just how far he had gotten over his
head here. He looked over at Michael. Michael, who had winced visibly at
“Mikey,” simply looked back and said nothing. No help there.

So he turned back to Diane. “Um, you mean here? Right now?”

“Sure.” she said, tugging on his buckle again. “Why not?”

Then she was rubbing up against him, her arms around his neck. Their
mouths met in a long, breathtaking kiss. Harold’s cock was as stiff as a
railroad spike, and it didn’t help that Diane was grinding her hips against
his. She broke the kiss and ran her tongue slowly along Harold’s jawline.
Planting little kisses along his neck, she slowly slid down his front,
maintaining maximum contact with her hands a body all the way. When she was
on her knees, her face level with his crotch, she began to work at his belt
buckle.

Oh, jeez, Harold thought, as he looked around frantically. Michael was
still watching, only his expression was intent. Harold got the distinct
feeling he was being *studied*.

Diane got Harold’s belt unbuckled, undid the snap, and pulled the
zipper down. A white bulge immediately poked through, as his erection
strained to be free of his shorts. His pants fell to his ankles with a
jingle of change as Diane placed a hand on his covered bulge, massaging it
gently while she looked up into his eyes. Harold already felt waves of
massive pleasure surge up from his groin. She put her mouth over the tip of
the bulge and exhaled gently. Harold clearly felt the heat of her breath on
his cock, and moaned imperceptibly.

Then she grabbed the waistband of his briefs and began to slowly pull
them down, uncovering his erection inch by agonizing inch. The pounding in
his cock was matched by the pounding in his head as he felt the elastic
drag down along the length of his penis.

Then he was free, his cock standing stiffly erect for all the world to
see. He glanced over at Michael, but Michael didn’t seem to be as
interested in the action as he was in Harold’s face. Then Harold forgot all
about him as Diane extended her tongue and ran it up along his cock.

Then, without warning, she plunged it into her mouth. All the way in.
While Harold wasn’t exceptionally large, he had still never met a woman who
could deep throat him before. The feeling was nothing short of amazing, as
the warm, slick wetness of her mouth enveloped his entire cock. The feeling
was intensely erotic, and Harold closed his eyes with a moan and rolled his
hips as he prepared to explode into her mouth.

A sudden, hard slap rocked his face. Shocked, he opened his eyes to
stare at Michael, who had bounded off his chair and stood just behind
Diane. “Harold,” he said quietly, “if you ejaculate in her mouth, she will
bite your penis off.”

At that moment, he felt a brief, sharp pain at the base of his cock as
she dug her teeth in very slightly, just as a hint, before resuming her
sucking with double the intensity.

Cold horror gripped Harold’s heart. He had been a fraction of a second
away from coming before Michael slapped him, but the slap had brought him
well back from the edge. Still, Diane’s oral talents were nothing short of
extraordinary and it would not be very long before he was back again. She
slid his cock in and out of her mouth while lightly caressing his balls
with one hand. The other hand slid between his legs and began to tease his
asshole with a finger. Already the pressure was beginning to build as
Harold frantically thought of a way to stop it.

In the midst of panic came a voice of calm. Your training, you idiot!
it said. That’s it! Harold replied. He began to repeat the mantras Michael
had taught him over and over in his mind. Slowly, the real world began to
fade into the distance as he entered a trance. The sensations beneath his
belly eased to the point where he could contemplate them or dismiss them
altogether. His heart slowed and his pupils dialated as his mind entered an
alpha state. Within an amazingly short time he became pure ego, floating in
a sea of peace and serenity.

After what seemed a brief yet endless time his hindbrain became aware
that something changed and he resurfaced to conciousness, gazing at
Michael’s gently smiling face. Harold looked down and saw that Diane had
stopped, and was sitting at his feet, massaging her jaw.

“Jeez.” she said, “Thirty fucking minutes. Nobody’s ever outlasted me
before.” She looked up at him ruefully. “Mister, you are nothing short of
amazing.”

Laughing, Michael clapped Harold hard on the back, almost making him
trip over his pants. He quickly pulled them up and refastened them. “Well,
my boy,” Michael said, “I guess I’d pronounce you cured, at least by your
own standards.”

Harold stood there, amazed. “I.. guess I really did it. I never
thought I would.”

“I had no doubt.” Michael said. “You have found one solution to your
problem. Not the best one, in my opinion, but a solution all the same. With
practice you shall find others, I’m sure.”

Harold helped Diane to her feet. He looked her in the eye and asked,
“Would you really have…?”

She just smiled and said nothing.

Harold gulped and looked over at Michael. “Would she have?”

Michael just shrugged. “Beats me. And I suppose I should know if
anybody would. After all, she’s my wife.”

Harold’s jaw dropped open. It stayed that way for a moment, until
Diane reached up and gently closed it. “You look cute when you’re shocked.”
she admitted. Then she gently tugged him towards the door.

“What are you doing?” he asked, still flabberghasted.

“I think we can find a more suitable place to finish what we
started…”

“But… but…” he looked over at Michael helplessly.

Michael just shrugged again, palms up. “She does as she wishes. And I
wouldn’t have it any other way. You have passed an important hurdle today,
and a difficult one. You deserve a reward. Enjoy yourself. Both of you.”

Harold was silenced, at least long enough for Diane to drag him out of
there and to his well-earned reward.

And what a reward it was!

In order to prevent an armed revolt by the citizenry, the mayor did
the only thing he could. He promised to drop all charges against the
…End of the part5. To be continued..

Her gasps became moans, first breathy, then louder as her hips moved
even more violently. She ran one hand through his hair while pressing the
other against her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the noise. “Oh God,”
she moaned, “That feels so goooood…”

Harry would have said something in reply, but it was bad manners to
talk with your mouth full.

Not that it would be full much longer. Her moans had become cries that
she was powerless to silence. Her hips moved so violently that he had a
difficult time keeping his tongue where it belonged and he held onto her
thighs to keep her steady. The more excited she became, the farther her
clit poked out of its fleshy covering, and the easier it was to torment it.
Then her cries suddenly silenced as every muscle in her body locked and her
hips rose high off the bed, carrying Harry with them. For a timeless second
she remained like that, every muscle quivering in an explosive orgasm,
before settling back on the bed with a mighty groan.

Wow, he thought. Cindi never got off like that. Experimentally he
probed with his tongue again. She almost jumped off the bed. “No! Stop,
please… No more…” she pleaded in an exhausted whisper. Slowly Harry
uncurled himself and crawled up to rest beside her. He ran a hand along her
skin, which was cold and beaded with sweat. She rolled onto her side and
threw an arm around him, burying her face in his chest. She was shaking
like a leaf. He hugged her tight to him until the trembling subsided.

Finally she said “That was good.” She ran a hand down to his belly to
his penis. His erection had wilted, and she began to massage some life back
into it. It was not long at all before he was hard again, and she ran her
fingers tantalizingly along the length of his hard-on. She rolled onto her
back again, pulling him on top of her with surprising strength. “I want
you. Now!”

The little man spoke up in his mind again, telling him he was walking
into disaster, but Harry ignored it as she guided his penis into her. He
thrust deep, and she gasped. “Still touchy.” she breathed into his ear.

He thrust again and again, in and out, as her hips moved in time with
his own. With one hand he supported himself while the other ran along her
side, feeling her body. Her mouth met his in a deep kiss.

Too soon, much too soon, he felt the pleasure building. It mounted
higher and higher, until he knew he was going to come. He rested for a
moment until it died back, but it returned with twice the ferocity as soon
as he began pumping again. He tried to will it back, to force it down, but
the pleasure quickly grew out of control. He groaned through clenched teeth
at an explosion of pleasure as his seed shot into the warm depths of her
body. She held him tight as the echoes faded and Harold began to relax.

As the pleasure faded, fear replaced it. Now was the moment of truth.
Was she going to accept him or explode with rage? He pulled out and lay
down beside her, trembling slightly.

She noticed something was wrong right away. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” he mumbled.

“Don’t give me that. You just withdrew into yourself like a turtle in
a shell. What are you afraid of?”

He swallowed hard “I thought you might get mad. Because… because I
couldn’t last very long. I was premature.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, “That was fantastic! I
haven’t got off that hard in a long time. What-” Suddenly an idea began to
form. “Harry, what was it you were so upset about when you first came in
here?”

Harold told her about Cindi. It took much coaxing to get the whole
truth out, as the pain had not diminished after all.

After he finished, she was silent for a long time. Finally she said,
“I almost can’t believe somebody could do that to another person. Almost. I
know Cindi. She’s pretty fuckin’ shallow and self-centered. How on earth
did you ever get tangled up with her anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Harold said in a flat, lifeless voice. “I used to
think she was something special. I was in love. I thought she loved me.”

“I don’t think the bitch knows what love is.” Julie thought for a long
moment. “There’s only one thing to do. We’re going to have to get you over
this little problem of yours. And I think I know just the person to do
it.”

Harold lifted his head up to stare at her outline in the darkness.
“You know somebody who can fix it?”

“This guy can fix anything. He knows more about sex than Dr. Ruth.
He’ll know what to do. And then you can show that bitch what’s what.”

“I don’t know…” Harold began doubtfully.

“You don’t have to know.” she concluded for him. “I do.”

They lay together for a long time. Finally she said, “Ready for
another one?”

“Another what?” Harold asked innocently.

“Come on, now. You’ve had plenty of time to recover.” She began
stroking his penis, which was beginning to swell. “See what I mean?”

He felt the heat returning as he caressed her breast. “Well, if you
insist…”

“Of course I insist. You know what they say.”

“No, what do they say?” Harold asked as he moved on top of her.

“It’s usually better the second time around…”

And it was.

Sunday. Squirrel Heights. By noon, the temperature hit 100 degrees.
The misery at the boarding house was more acute than usual, as hangovers
didn’t mix with the heat at all. Also, because about five times as many
people as usual had spent the night there, the place needed a good airing
out. Especially the front room…

Michael Wilburn was fifty one years old and solidly built. Though
balding, his hair showed not a trace of gray and there was a mischevious
gleam in his eye when he smiled that showed that he had not yet surrendered
to his years and probably never will. He was handsome in an offhanded sort
of way, and had an easy, outgoing matter. He had once been an economics
professor at the local university, until he decided to apply some of his
theories to the stock market and found himself comfortably rich within a
year. Students who once avoided his classes like the plague now begged him
to return to teaching. He always got quite a laugh out of that. Despite
some trepidation when Julie had introduced them, Harold was surprised to
find he liked Michael almost immediately.

They sat at opposite ends of a study on the third floor, Harold in a
ratty old easy chair, Michael crosslegged on a small pile of pillows. The
air in the room was leaden, stiflingly hot. The only light streamed in
through a half-shuttered window and striped the floor between them. Harold
wiped sweat off his brow every few minutes, but his host seemed affected
not at all by the heat.

Opening up to a stranger is always hard, but hope forced Harold along.
Haltingly at first, then more freely with Michael’s gentle prodding, he
…End of the part2. To be continued..

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you’d given up hope of it ever coming true it does. It’s like getting a

Christmas present in February. It’s not anything you expect, but it sure

can make you happy. That’s just what happened to me.

Before I share it with you I’ll give you a little background. I was

introduced to the pleasures of sucking cock at the tender age of 15 by one

of the neighborhood tough guys, who was a couple of years older than me.

He thought he was pretty cool, Mr. BadAss “forcing” another guy to polish

his knob, but he soon discovered that you can’t force the eager. It may

have burst his bubble to learn that I liked it, but it didn’t prevent him

from seeking me out. It was after all the perfect arrangement; he liked

being sucked; I liked sucking.

He gave me lots of practice; by the time I turned 16 I was a fairly adept

pole smoker. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy doing my neighbor, but after

taking his load at least 150 times I wanted to expand out to new (and

hopefully bigger) things. I looked at any good looking guy I saw as someone

who I could suck if the opportunity arose. It was just a matter of time

before something happened.

That summer, having just got my license, I wanted my own car. My dad made

me a deal. He owned a small manufacturing company. He’d front me the

money for my wheels, but I’d have to pay off my loan by working for him

during all school vacations. Who could pass up a deal like that? So that’s

how I met Eric.

Eric was 20 years old and everything I considered a super hunk to be. He

had short-cropped, sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes, an All-American,

Saturday Evening Post kind of face together with a body that nearly took my

breath away the first time I saw him. He was my definition of

masculine. There’s no denying it, I was in lust at first sight. From the

moment I noticed the bulge protruding from the crotch of his jeans I wanted

to do nothing less than drop to my knees and worship it.

Eric had worked for my dad since his senior year in high school, but we’d

never met. I knew him by reputation only. Dad really liked him, saying he

was a hard and willing worker and dad was never one to hand out compliments

or praise just for the sake of doing so. At the time Eric was sort of a

jack of all trades, learning the entire operation from the ground up. Dad

had great hopes for advancing him as the business grew and prospered. My

summer job was going to be to take over running the outside errands and

office boy duties that he’ been doing while he became more involved in

learning the production end of the business.

Of course this meant that for the first couple of weeks I would be working

with Eric while he trained me. As far as I was concerned this was the

perfect arrangement and I determined to have him before the two weeks were

up. To understand where I was coming from, or at least to put it into

perspective, you need to know that I was an only child with asthma and I’d

become used to getting my own way. Not that I got everything just for the

asking, but if I was willing to work and plot, I usually got what I

wanted. Add to this the fact that I’d led a very sheltered life, despite

the fact that I’d been sucking cock for over a year, and really didn’t know

much about sex in the real world. So it’s somewhat understandable that it

didn’t occur to me that anybody would see anything wrong with one guy

wanting to suck another off, and I certainly didn’t realize that a guy who

enjoyed sex might turn down the offer of a blow job. Not even the fact that

Eric was married with one kid and another on the way deterred me in my

quest.

I certainly didn’t waste any time. We’d been out on the road alone for

about 20 minutes when, not even trying to maneuver the conversation toward

sex I just came out and asked,

“Eric have you ever had a blow job?”

He looked pretty shocked, at least by the abruptness of the question, he

laughed a little nervously and said, “course I’ve had a blow job. I’m

married aren’t I?”

I didn’t know what to say so I blurted out the first thing that came to my

tongue, “your wife blows you?” I’ll admit I felt more than a little stupid.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

“I want to know who he is.”

“No.”

“Did you hear me? I want to know. You have no right to keep

this from me.”

“Part of the deal was, I promised him you wouldn’t find out.

Look, maybe he doesn’t want a relationship. But there’s no way I can

tell you without his consent.”

“If you don’t tell me whose cock was inside me, I’m going

to kick your ass.”

* * *

The guy wouldn’t consent to me revealing his identity. I admit

I felt awkward refusing to tell her who he was — she was my friend,

after all — but I had given him my word. We had exchanged trust; it

was part of the bargain.

Jeanine’s bitterness about me keeping my vow of secrecy aside,

it seemed that the whole project was going really well. Her moody

urgency about losing her virginity was gone; her burning curiosity about

sex was satiated, and now she comported herself more confidently, with

an uncharacteristic calmness. I had heard about deflowering having a

big impact on people’s behavior before, but I had never witnessed it

myself. I was impressed; Jeanine went from being a edgy, high-strung

swarm of electrons to a cool, flowing girl. If one morning I glanced

out the dorm window and saw her strolling naked over snow drifts with

flowers in her hair and her voice alive with song, I would not have

been surprised.

She also began socializing more. She acquired a fake I.D.,

and began hanging out in the campus pub with myself and various future

farmers. She danced to country music, quaffed tepid beer, laughed

dizzily at stupid jokes, and smiled a great deal. It was a terrible

irony that this was when the problems began.

One evening, sitting with Peggy, me, and three other guys

from school, she blew the whole operation. We had been playing truth

or dare, which for us was usually a safe and unsurprising game, and

just by chance one fellow named Dale asked about her first time. She

stared at him penetratingly — I assumed she was wondering if he was the

one — and then she blurted it all out. My proposal, the secret trust,

the grand mission to liberate her from virginity. I kicked her under

the table but she wouldn’t shut up. By the time she finished babbling

the guy was mortified, and she clearly inferred from his reaction that he

was not her man. An awful silence descended. Jeanine looked

over at me, wounded, helpless, stunned by her own stupidity.

“That’s a nice bit of fiction, Jeanine.” I tried to cover

her tracks.

“Did she make that up?” Peggy asked me, her voice high-pitched

and wavering.

“Nope,” a guy named Del said. “Too real. She said too

much details. Know what I mean? She couldn’t've made all that up

just now.”

Her face flushed, Jeanine rose unsteadily and walked to the

ladies’ room. Two of the guys, almost fainting with hilarity, went

to the pool table to repeat what they had just heard.

Later, Jeanine told me that as she exited the bathroom a

stranger approached her and claimed to be her anonymous lover.

As did nine other people over the next two days. One of them

was a woman who claimed she had worn a strap-on.

* * *

Jeanine told me that her response to all the guys who claimed

to be her lover was: Prove it.

To which most of them replied:

“Sure. But, um…the only way I can prove it is if you

let me sleep with you. Then you’ll know it was me.”

* * *

“The problem, Bobby,” Jeanine inhaled from the joint I had

managed to talk my older sister out of. “The problem is…I mean,

I can deal with all this bullshit, the ridicule, everyone saying how

desperate I must be. The real problem is, I love the guy.”

…End of the part4. To be continued..

“Enough talk,” she commanded and resumed her grip on his sheathed sword. She

pulled him to the entrance of her cunt, and he leaned down, placing his hands on

the bed at her sides. He shifted forward slightly and his head pressed its way

into her.

“Ahhhhh…I’d almost forgotten how good that feels.” “Oh, I hope you remember

that it gets better,” she hissed as she thrust her hips up to take him deeper

inside her. He reciprocated, and their groins met as they both exhaled loudly.

He began a slow, steady stroke, but was coaxed into a faster, harder rhythm.

“My! Don’t we heat up quickly?” he commented.

“Remember that it’s been a while for me as well – I’ve been saving myself for

you.”

“Tsk…tsk…tsk,” he replied in time with his thrusts,

“we’ll…have…to…remedy…that…won’t…we?” He moistened his thumb and

reached down to massage her rosebud. She sighed and pulled him down to her,

their mouths locking in an embrace as carnal as that of their lower bodies.

She stopped kissing and sucked his lower lip between her teeth, pressing harder

and harder as she approached her climax. He managed to pull free of her painful

grasp as she opened her mouth to gasp as the orgasm rolled over her. When she

relaxed, he stopped stroking, rolled them over with her on top, and started to

buck her body up as he resumed his activity.

She sat up on his hips, taking his lead and riding his prick. After a while, he

withdrew from her vaginal embrace and slid out from under her. He shifted around

behind her, raising her up onto her knees, and entered her pussy from the rear.

She braced her shoulders into the bed, and grasped the headboard as she met his

every thrust. She raised her head and asked, “You’re still not ready…to…”

“I guess it’s my gentlemanly restraint coming back to me!” He growled, voice

belying his words.

“Ahhhhhhh-but don’t you mean ‘NOT coming’?”

“Keep that up love, and I’ll leave right now!” Again contradictory to his

speech, his hand started to massage her mound, the pinkie finger running over her

clit.

“Oh, don’t leave! Keep doing that! Mmmmmmmm…”

“Whatever…you…ask…” he rejoined, his breath coming in gulps as his arousal

increased. Their gentle shifting accelerated into a heavy pace and they fucked

with abandon as they felt their passions rise to that pleasurable summit. A

sheen of perspiration glazed his face as he grabbed her hips in an attempt to

drive his cock even deeper into her cunt. Her hands gripped the rungs of the

antique headboard so tightly they squeaked as she shifted to fuck him back as

strongly as he was doing her. Her face and breasts flushed, and she stiffened

with rapture, her vaginal muscles clasping his cock and pushing him past the

brink. He continued to pump into her as he came, roaring with pleasure. As

their orgasms faded, they collapsed onto the bed. He rolled off of her back and

lay gasping his eyes squeezed shut. She shifted, sat up and took him in her

hand.

“Thank you, sweet prince,” she breathed and kissed the latex-clad head of his

cock. His entire body flinched, and his hand grasped her wrist. “*Please* don’t

do that – I’m really too sensitive right now, even the contact of the condom is

nearly painful.”

“Well, let’s get your little man out of his confining suit then,” she replied and

slipped the rubber from his manhood, making him shake on the bed. “There, all

done!” she exclaimed proudly as she lay down to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank

you – that was wonderful.”

“Oh, the pleasure wasn’t solely yours and I’m sure the credit doesn’t rest on my

shoulders alone, my darling beauty,” he responded and kissed her hair. He

appeared to remember something and shifted slightly toward the edge of the bed.

“Um, miss – I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.” He raised his hand up

to shake hers palm-up as its mate disappeared off the bed. “Mikel Torsson, my

dear lady.” She grasped his hand and answered “Nadine Sanders,” and sighed with

…End of the part6. To be continued..

anticipated that I would be a tall man, for my father, at 6′ 2″, was the runt

of his family. Couple that with my mom’s genes and it seemed reasonable

that I’d be tall. It was not to be. At eighteen, we were pretty much the

same height. I knew just where the tips of her breasts hit my chest.

I should mention that my mother had very attractive breasts, a C-

cup with prominent, up-tilted nipples that were often evident despite her

clothes. Sometime later I was to learn that she was one of those women

who were blessed with exceptionally firm, youthful breasts, that never lost

much of their firmness. She is one of those rare females that will have

youthful breasts into her later years. Like intelligence, beauty is given to us

as an accident of birth, no more than a fortuitous role of the genetic dice.

It’s comforting to be part of a line of good stock I was told, but I hadn’t

thought of it in this arena of sexual attractiveness.

While my mother’s figure was model-attractive, it was her facial

features that were eye catching. She had a straight, almost aristocratic

nose and a wide, full mouth. Her prominent cheek bones set off her

unusually attractive eyes. They were hard to describe, her eyes. She had

high, full, unaltered eye brows, that were dark in color in contrast to her

natural auburn hair. But it was the eyes themselves that caught your

attention, for they were a light green-blue with an exotic cast. At times I

thought she might have some Asian blood, but I never got a hint of it in the

rest of her family. In any case, they were striking, often dark and brooding

and at times almost electric. Without altering her facial expression, her

eyes could show humor or joy and, at times, anger. I often wondered what

she looked like when sexually aroused.

But I digress. Back to the awakening of my sexual awareness.

I didn’t set out to seduce my mother, despite the rich and lurid

fantasies I entertained. I held them as deeply secret and guarded as one

would any shameful, licentious desire. The thought was given no more

than masturbatory acknowledgment, as frequent as that was. Still, the gap

between our thoughts and our actions remains hidden from our conscious

awareness by the strength of our denial. So while I might have denied a

plan to seduce her, my actions would have argued differently. I set out to

be her friend and her confidant, to reduce if not break down the

conventional barriers between us. This was largely an unacknowledged

plan of mine. I don’t recall thinking anything more detailed than vague

objectives of getting closer to her.

Over time, I became more open with her about my self. I asked her

opinions of things, including girls and dating and later, sexual things. I

worked at being her emotional intimate. It wasn’t difficult, for she was at

heart an emotionally trusting and open women who, it turned out, was

largely unencumbered by repressive standards. To my surprise, we

gradually became good friends. That I would bond so closely with my

mother was not surprising, given my nature and that fact that my father

was largely an absent force in my life.

I slowly became less conventional in my own modesty. It was not

at all unusual for me to chat with my mother wearing no more than my

Calvin Kleins. I was aware that she studiously avoided looking at my body

when I was so briefly dressed, but she never reprimanded me for

inappropriate attire.

———————————————————————

I became aware that when my dad was away, she usually left her

bedroom door open. I took that as an invitation and often walked in on her

to “chat.” Not infrequently, I’d catch her in her bra and panties. She’d

say, “Whoops,” and slip on a robe, loosely tied. Once, as I walked into her

room, she was walking out of her large closet wearing only an unbelted

robe that swung open as she moved. From a moment only, I saw her nude

body. It was no more than a flash that left nothing more than an after-

image. It was that after-image that I examined so repeatedly. I saw firm,

upthrust breasts, and a flash of dense pubic hair at the base of a flat

abdomen . . . and then she pulled the robe closed without comment.

I’d gone in to ask her if she’d like to play some tennis and for a

moment was tongue tied, standing there, staring at her.

…End of the part4. To be continued..

“Changing your clothes . . . were you flashing me?”

“Of course. I wanted to give you a thrill. But what I found out

was that *I* was the one who was getting the thrill. It got me wet,

showing myself to you. Several times – you may remember this – when I

left you to go into my bathroom, I had to masturbate. And that gave me a

thrill. Sitting on the toilet, fingers on my sex, knowing you were right out

there. I wanted you to know and at the same time, I was terrified that you

would know. Funny, huh?”

Another glance over her shoulder. “A little harder, please?”

I increased the intensity of this erotic spanking. Her cheeks were

getting pink and she was getting wetter. I could see the sheen of her juices

on my cock as I pulled it from her tight, wet sheath.

“Did you ever think about “doing it” when you were playing with

yourself, Susan?”

“With you?”

A harder slap. “Yes, with me!”

“I was really embarrassed then, even with myself, but yes, of course

I thought about it. I tried to think of other things when I was

masturbating. I tried to hold off thoughts of you, but so often – sometimes

stuck and unable to get off – thoughts, visions of you would pop into my

head and whoosh! I’d get off. After a while, I gave up and just used you

all the time. I’d day dream about you and get wet when you’d see me

dressing.”

Nodding in recall, I said, “I’d get so hard, it’d hurt. I was always

afraid you’d see me and be insulted. But it was so thrilling, I couldn’t stop.

Did you know that?”

That it was thrilling or that you got hard? I certainly knew about

your stiffies. And I knew it had to be about me. One part of me was

shocked I guess, but the stronger, the sexual part I mean, was excited. I

tried not to look, but I did. I just couldn’t help myself.”

I was brought to a halt by the intensity of my emotions. “I

*thought* you knew and averted your eyes because you disapproved.”

Laughing, I added, “I’ll never hide it again.”

Wiggling her ass, she asked, “Why’d you quit spanking me, Billy.

It was just starting to feel good. And by the way, how’d you know I

*liked* to be spanked, anyway. You seem to know a lot for a young guy!”

“I read a book once,” I quipped, as if that explained everything. I

resumed the spanking, alternating one cheek and then the other.

Arching her back, she rested her head on her forearms again and

observed, “I’ve quit trying to figure it out. I mean, I’m a feminist and a

strong woman, but I *love* to be spanked. I think it’s a sexual thing, you

know, a pleasure thing and it has nothing to do with feminism. A little

harder, if you please?”

Turning up the intensity current a notch, I slowly moved to the

bottom of her buttocks, to the crease where the cheek meets the thigh.

With only the fingers, I slapped the tender area closer to her vulva.

“Oh, YES!”

Then I moved inward, right next to the fur-trimmed swollen lips of

her cunt and continued the erotic slapping, asking, “And here?”

“Yes . . . no. I mean, spank me right on my pussy, Billy. I’ll come

for you . . . it’s getting closer . . . yes, right there . . . oh, yes, yes, yes . . .

shit, shit . . .,” and her words again degenerated into a crescendo of

pleasure as she thrust her hips further back at me. I slipped my thumb into

her cunt, pressing the soft tissue right behind her pubic bone. Thrashing

her head and beating her small fists into the pillow, she shuddered, once,

and then again, then falling into a heap, sobbing.

I held her close in my arms, patting her head and murmuring soft

sounds of loving. “It’s OK, Mom, it’s really OK. I’m here. You’re all

right.”

She nodded her head, sobbed again and with her voice catching in

her throat, said something like, “I’m OK, Billy. There’s nothing wrong

except I can’t remember when I’ve felt like this. It’s never happened just

like this before. I’ve never felt so . . . so much. It’s almost scary. But I’m

certain about one thing,” and then she stopped.

“What’s that, Susan?

“That I love you, Billy. I don’t know if we’ve done the right thing

or not, but I know that I love you. And I know that there’s no going back.

I’m not sure what to do next, but I want you to know that this was one of

the more beautiful moments of my life. I want you to know that I have no

regrets about this, about us . . . that I love you very much.

That was the beginning of a new chapter in our lives, my mother

and me. She and my father never divorced and while they continued to

have differences, at times major differences, they both were willing to show

up for their marriage and work at maintaining the good parts.

We remained the very best of friends and very occasional lovers.

Oh, we always fooled around, teasing each other, but permitted ourselves

moments like this one only at rare moments. I suppose we were rationing

ourselves, or more correctly, she was rationing me.

This little story is not meant as a case for incest. While clearly it

might work from time to rare time, for the most part, it’s too dangerous

and too wrapped in dysfunction. It’s just that this time, it did work. For

us. My life was fuller and better for it. I look back only with fondness and

pleasure and at times, wonder.

— | I was fucked by GUMBY.
____/ | – _ |
/ | | | | | It was years after the TV series was set that
| (0) (0) | | / | this disgusting thing occured, Gumby had grown
| o | | | | up as had the boy owner of the books that Gumby,
___| -___- |_| | | Goo, Prickle and Pokey called home. That boy
/ | | owner was now thirteen and Gumby was about 17 or
| _ ___/ | 18.
| | | | | Anyhow, being a thirteen year old boy, he had
| | | | | porno magazines, which, like the other books in
| \|_ | | the room, could come alive and be interacted with
\ _| 6 | | by Gumby.
\__| | | Gumby, being stuck in a children’s book, didn’t
| /| |\ | | get much action so he was fairly desperate. He
| |_| |_| | | had given Prickle a poke and Pokey some of his
| |_| | | prick and he had also filled Goo with -er- goo,
| \_/ | | but he wanted some real stuff- with a human.
| | | | So, strolling around the room one day he
| | | | stumbled across the place where the boy hid his
| : | : | | pornos and he didn’t waste anytime entering that
| :… | :… | | text.
|______|______| | I was one of the guys in there making sure the
| girls got their fill.
—————————+ Gumby’s groin bulged forward and his plasticine
penis became hard. Now, it was that all the orifices of the females were
already occupied by someone so Gumby had to choose something else to get into.
This didn’t worry him, though, he had only ever grown up with males: Prickle,
Pokey and the blockheads were all males and Goo- well- Goo was a lump of Play-
Doh.
He looked around to find a male’s orifice that was within reach and
accessable, apparently he chose me.
I was too busy to notice him at first because, being a plasticine dick, he
had made it really thin and just slipped it in. It didn’t take me long to
realise something was amiss, though, for, once he had it in me, he let it
expand.
I’m not going to deny anything here- It felt good.
When he had gotten to what felt like normal size (its hard to judge when you
cannot make a comparison) he sighed and asked “Can I go deeper?” Having never
been aroused like this before (fucking for a living takes the fun out of sex)
I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
I felt his plasticine manhood moving into me, through my anus, up my rectum,
into my intestines. My arse was crushing his dick and oh it felt good!
It took him a long time to get through both my intestines and he stopped at
my duodenum. Then he stayed there awhile, sending ripples of plasticine up and
down his penis. Hmmmmmm.
Then, suddenly, he began to withdraw, slowly at first then faster, and if you
have ever done this kinda stuff you’ll know that this feels *great.*
I had three orgasms, and boy did I scream with pleasure! I must have because
the boy owner heard me and picked up the porno. He stared down at us a while
then ripped his pants down and started thrashing himself.
It was amazing! I had a guy (a Gumby) pulling his thirty foot dick out my
arse and I was watching a thirteen year old giant jerking off his immense
penis. I had another few screaming orgasms just to show the kid I appreciated
him.
Then I felt Gumby come, pumping hot plasticine sperm into me for a few
seconds and then he was out of me and I could relax, or so I thought. It was
at that time that the kid came: it was frightening, I looked up and there was
this immense wall of come hurtling towards us. It splashed into the magazine
and filled up our photo. Lucky the girls were there to drink it all up, Gumby
helped a bit, too after he had tended to me.
First, he asked whether I had enjoyed it. *YES!*
Then he asked if he could retrieve his stuff. I nodded. He went behind me and
I felt his warm wet tongue lick my anus before entering. It, too, elongated
and went right up inside, searching for his tasty semen. I just quivered in
ecstacy as his tongue probed.
When he was sastified that he had every drop, he pulled out and I came again.
Then he gave me two dollars and left.
My magazine (my home) was thrown out because the pages were stuck together.
The boy grew up with a plasticine fetish and a homosexual tendency.
And Gumby moved into the book called ‘Atlas of the Human body.’

Anyway, I need to go now, I have something to tend to.
[ PS- the story- it's all true! ]

–

[Father Goose #47]

Once upon a time, bad King John raised a mighty army and set
out to conquer the known world. After a series of
successful campaigns, the remaining kings realized that
their lone efforts would never prevail. They had to band
together under the leadership of the best general they had -
“George-the-Turk”.

George the Turk had promised that he would defeat bad King
John’s army and would place him on a rack – in a public
display – so that no one would ever again try to conquer the
world.

While George the Turk was assembling his army and scouting
out bad King John, he also ordered his engineers to design
and build the largest rack here-to-fore made. The rack was
then fitted with wheels and required 40 horses to pull it.
When all was ready, George the Turk set out to do battle.

Bad King John, who was camped by a river enjoying the spoils
of his latest victory, had not yet gotten word of George the
Turk’s army. George the Turk knew that his army must attack
quickly before Bad King John could prepare a defense. But,
alas, the 40 horse team pulling the large rack could not
keep up with the troops. George the Turk ordered more
horses to be teamed, but, still they lagged. George the
Turk remembered that Hannibul was not too far away in the
mountains with a herd of elephants. Elephants would be
better than horses for pulling the rack. So, George the
Turk sent his second-in-command to Hannibul to rent enough
elephants for the job. Hannibul agreed and also sent along
his best elephant handler.

This elephant handler quickly realized the importance of his
unique position in George the Turk’s army and insisted that
he be given the title of “elephant engineer” and a huge pay
raise. George the Turk agreed with the title and the pay
raise.

The rack, powered by elephants and driven by the “elephant
engineer” , kept pace with the rapidly moving army.

Late one night they arrived at the enemy camp by the river.
George the Turk deployed his troops to cut off any avenue of
escape and issued the order to attack at dawn – on his
command. He also ordered the rack to be positioned on the
highest hill overlooking bad King John’s camp. This site
was the perfect spot to publically display bad King John -
to show the world what happens to anyone who dares to try to
conquer the world.

With dawn approaching George the Turk goes to the top of the
hill beside the rack so that everyone can see his command to
attack: when his sword drops —ATTACK !!!!!

All is quiet. The enemy camp is asleep. Every man is
waiting for the signal. The first ray of sunlight strikes
the helmet of George the Turk. He draws his sword slowly
and holds it over his head. The sunlight gleams off the
blade — and scares the elephants that are hitched to the
rack. They start trumpeting and rearing and the elephant
engineer can’t control then. He drops the reins and clings
onto the rack for dear life. The rack breaks loose from the
team and starts rolling down the hill — straight for the
enemy camp.

All this noise wakes bad King John. He orders an aide to go
outside the tent to see what is the cause. The aide takes a
hard look, comes back into the tent, and reports:

“As near as I can tell –

it’s a rambling rack from George the Turk with an elephant
engineer” !!!

[Father Goose #48]

There was once a very influential farmer in an obscure part of China.
He had a problem, for which he sought the counsel of the two wise men
in town. So he summons the two wise men, Hing, who is an scientist,
and Ming, who is a sorcerer, and requests that they find a cure for
his chickens who are losing their feathers and dying.

Hing decides to pay a visit to his mentor at the Agricultural
Extension of the local Community College, under whom he studied many
years ago. The mentor recommends the book “Everything You Always
Wanted to Know About Diseases of Chickens, But Were Afraid to Ask”.
So Hing visits the library, borrows the book, and finds inside the
report of a study that finds that feeding the chickens with an
infusion of gum tree leaves is often a cure for chickens losing their
feathers.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Ming reads obscure writings of ancient
wise men, he meditates, and he reads tarot cards. He also tries to
read the entrails of a fetal pig. Getting no inspiration he uses his
old standby, reading tea leaves. In a spark of discovery, he decides
that an infusion of gum tree leaves is the cure.

On the appointed day, at the appointed time, and at the appointed
place, the two wise men report back to the influential Chinese farmer.
Ming reports “As gum sticks to tables and chairs, so shall an infusion
of gum tree leaves make feathers stick to chickens.” Hing agrees,
saying “Four out of five ornithologists recommend sugarless infusions
of gum tree leaves for their chickens who lose their feathers.” The
influential Chinese farmer is ecstatic, for the two wisest men in town
are of a single mind.

He decides to carry out their advice, and it does not succeed. The
moral of this story is “All of Hing’s courses and all of Ming’s ken
couldn’t get gum tea to feather a hen.”

[Father Goose #49]

A certain African tribe, mostly swineherds and fishermen, lived on the
shores of a bay; the bay had treacherous currents and water turgid with
sand, but fishing was good and the tribe propered. They attributed this
to their sacrifices — a prize boar each year to every tribal god except
the sea-god, who got a gorilla. (A wise chieftan a few generations back
had substituted gorilla sacrifice for human).
One year, the tribesmen could not capture a gorilla. The chieftan asked
the tribal wise-woman, the surviving member of a Swedish explorer couple
who had gone native and lived with the tribe for many happy years, if they
should substitute their best boar for the gorilla. She was strongly against
it, even to the point of suggesting herself as a human sacrifice; he was
horrified and reminded her that porcine offerings had always pleased the
other gods.
The time of sacrifice arrived. With prayers for the sea-god’s mercy, the
shamans went through the usual rituals with the boar instead of the gorilla,
culminating in its being taken to the middle of the bay and having its throat
cut as it was thrown in. Nothing went wrong and the next year was as prosperous
as usual. After that, pigs replaced gorillas.
MORAL: Let a swine be your gorilla in a grainy, grainy bay. And if your Swede
decries, just tell her that a swine will always pay…

[Father Goose #50]

When South Vietnam was nearing its end, and General Minh was in charge,
a popular artist came to him and asked to make a statue in his honor (at
government expense).
“Please, General Minh, you are the people’s hero,” he told him.
“Yes, but make the sculpture in bronze,” replied the general.
So the artist made the sculpture, but when it was unveiled in a small
private ceremony, the general was furious. For the sculpture was made in
gold.
“I want bronze,” he said, “I want bronze!”
The artist went away in a hurry, deeply impressed with this show of
…End of the part9. To be continued..

“Dee, who flaps last, flaps left”

[Father Goose #29]

Once there was a great (or almost great) pitcher by name of Melvin
Famie. Like so many others, though, Melvin got old and lost his touch.
He was such a boost to the spirit of the team, however, that the manage-
ment could justify keeping him on the bench just to offer “Hooray!”s.
Melvin, not having to work terribly hard at his new job, took to sipping
a wee bit o’ the malt punch at games to keep HIS spirits up, so he could
keep his teammates’ spirits up.

Well, they were hard at work in a long, drawn-out battle with their
cross-state rivals when the manager realized that they were out of
relief pitchers, out of pinch-hitters, and the poor fool on the mound
was looking for a pounding. He called our hero off the bench to pitch
the top of the ninth, and Mel, on his way up the steps from the dugout,
groped back for not only his glove, but five or six cans of brew, which
he stuffed into his shirt on his way to the mound. Needless to say, Mel
had a very hard time locating the catcher from the heights of the mound,
and did all the damage required for a loss of the game by the time the
manager swapped him with the right-fielder. When the inning was finally
over, Mel collapsed against the fence next to the home-team bullpen,
and snored his way happily through the uneventful bottom of the ninth.

A youngster on the opposing team, totally amazed to have seen such in
“The Majors”, inquired of one of his fellows about the hulk up against
the fence. “That’s the great Melvin Famie”, said his elder. “What’s the
bulge in his shirt?” asked the tyro. The reply?

“That’s the beer that made Mel Famie walk us.”

[Father Goose #30]

Once there was a King who was loved by all of his subjects, especially
because of the hunting excursions he shared with them. As will happen,
one day he died and his eldest son took the throne. Now this new king
was an animal-lover to the core, and immediately outlawed all forms of
hunting and fishing. His subjects accepted this for only a short time
before they ousted him. This is a truly significant event, because it’s
the first time a reign was called on account of the game.

[Father Goose #31]

Late in the previous century, the well-known folklorist
Vivian McNabb was collecting ballads and tales in the
Scottish Highlands, and found a previously unknown musical instrument,
something in the lyre-lute-dulcimer range. It was sitting unused
as a family heirloom, and the family who owned it no longer
knew exactly how it should be tuned or played, nor did anyone
else in the region. McNabb purchased it, and showed it
in every village he passed through. Nobody could give him completely
accurate information, and nobody could tune it or play it, but some
clues began to fall in place. Several people mentioned Seamus
O’Pernokkety, who lived in Ireland, as a great authority on stringed
instruments. McNabb determined to go over and consult Seamus.

(Insert shaggy description of McNabb’s difficult travels, and the
frustrating search for Seamus O’Pernokkety.)

Finally, weak and confused, McNabb stumbled up to the door of the
cabin at the top of the steep hill. Success at last! Seamus recognized
the instrument, and agreed to tune it and teach McNabb how to play, but
only if McNabb would serve as his apprentice for a full year.

(Insert description of McNabb’s arduous year of servitude at the feet
of his musical guru.)

When the year was up, Seamus took the instrument out of the cupboard,
spent the rest of the day tuning it up, and played all night and all
the next day. It was the most remarkable, beautiful tone McNabb had
ever heard. He stayed on another month, until he too had some proficiency
at playing. At last they parted.

McNabb skipped and jumped down the hill, exulting in his newfound
skill in playing the instrument, and in the precious object itself.
So unbridled was he in his joyous carriage, that he tripped and fell,
and went tumbling arse-over-teacup down into a ravine. A large boulder
finally broke his fall, and also his leg. The instrument, however,
did not seem to be damaged. But when he tried to play it, it proved
to be badly out of tune, and he could wring from it nothing but harsh
discords. There was no help for it: he painfully crawled all the
way back up the terrible hill, arriving at Seamus’s cottage late that
evening.

“Oh, Seamus, the most terrible thing has happened!” he gasped out, and
explained about his accident. “Please, maestro, help me in my despair.
Retune the instrument! And perhaps do something about my leg, if you
can.”
“Certainly, McNabb, I can set your leg, and you’re welcome to
food and lodging while it mends. But I hope you realize I can’t work
on that instrument again.”
“But why not? Please, you must.”
“No, I cannot. I thought it was well known:
O’Pernokkety tunes but once.”

[Father Goose #32]

In the 23rd century the solar system was wracked by constant
warring between the fragmented states of the Asteroid Belt.
Particularly successful in these wars was one tribe (I’ll call
them Joes) which managed to total up a surprising war record
despite its amazingly primitive weaponry through sheer ferocity.
After having dispatched a fleet from a rival nation (call them
Jacks), the Joe general went over to his adversary’s flagship to
sign a treaty of peace. After the diplomatic niceties were
taken care of, the Jack general (who had been wounded in the
previous day’s fighting) took a moment of his time to talk shop
and mention his injury. Their exchange follows:

Said the Jack general, “What was that laser you sawed me with
last night?”

Came the reply, “That was no laser–that was my knife!”

[Father Goose #33]

It seems there were three monks who enjoyed raising plants
and were trying to keep a flower shop running, selling unique
and exotic plant life.
One day, some children where playing behind the shop and
were eaten whole by an extremely rare man-eating plant.
The parents, needless to say, were outraged, and demanded that
the friars get rid of the dangerous plant. The friars refused.
So the parents and the people of the town tried several ways to get
the friars to consent, but finally they asked Hugh, the town blacksmith,
(undoubtably the strongest man around), to run the friars out of town.

Your waiting for the moral… Can you guess?

“Hugh, and only Hugh, can prevent florist friars!”

[Father Goose #34]

…End of the part5. To be continued..

Two guys were stranded on a desert island.
The only way they could get food was to kill
sea birds by throwing rocks at them.
By the time they were rescued,
… They had left no tern unstoned.

[Father Goose #22]

There was once was this guy who developed a bad case of flatulence. The smell
was quite embarrasing, but what was worse was the sound which was a loud
“HONDA!” He went to a number of doctor (of course) and none of them
could help him (as is always the case in these tales). Finally out of
desperation he went to an old chinese doctor and explained his problem.
Without any examination the doctor said, “You have an abcessed tooth, have it
fixed and your problem will be solved.” So he went to a dentist, and sure,
enough he did have an abcessed tooth, which he had repaired, and his “HONDA”
farts went away as well. So he went back to the chinese doctor and said,
“What’s the punch line?” — or was it, “How did you know that I had an
abcessed tooth?”

“Because”, said the chinese doctor, “everybody know that …

… abcess make the fart go HONDA!”

[Father Goose #23]

Once in a land far, far away there lived a group of people called
Trids. The Trids were happy except for the huge ogre that lived
on the mountain. The ogre would periodically terrorize the Trids.

The Trids tired of the ogre and sought to reason with him. They thought
one of their religious leaders would be a good intermediary. So a group
of Trids and their minister went up the mountain and before they could
even say one word the ogre kicked them down the mountain. Not being
dismayed the Trids thought that maybe the ogre was Catholic, so they sent
another delagation, this time led by the local priest. But alas, as they
approached the ogre he once again kicked them all down the mountain.

The Trids were upset until they thought that perhaps the ogre was Jewish.
Unfortunately, no Trids were Jewish, so they wrote to the people of another
land and asked them to send a Rabbi to help them with the ogre. The
Rabbi arrived and led a delegation of Trids up the mountain. The ogre
saw them coming and kicked all of them, except for the Rabbi, down the
mountain. The Rabbi, having been told of the previous expeditions, wondered
why he alone had not been kicked down the mountain, so he asked the ogre.
The ogre laughed and replied:

“Silly Rabbi, kicks are for Trids!”

[Father Goose #24]

During the invasion of Sicily in World War II, General
George (“Blood ‘n’ Guts”) Patton was preparing to take the
city of Palermo. He checked with his meteorologists and learned
the day he had chosen would be incredibly rainy. So he issued
an order to place copies of the New York “Times” immediately
beneath the tailgates of the transports carrying his troops.
In this way the men could keep their feet dry.

His staff was mystified. Why the “Times”? Why not the New
York “Daily News”? Patton was adamant; and one did not argue
with the General. As five tons of old copies of the “Times”
were being loaded, the General issued one of his greatest
quotes to the assembled war correspondents:

“THESE ARE THE ‘TIMES’ THAT DRY MEN’S SOLES.”

[Father Goose #25]

Henry the Plantationer was the Lord of the best flower plantation
in all the land, but he had lost his family’s corner on the market of
fleur de lis (hard won by his father).
This loss enraged his cousin Richard, a nasty, deformed, but clever
man who was lord of the fields of white roses, and who raised 400 pound
attack boars for a hobby.
Henry’s other cousins, who lorded over the fields of red roses
were merely annoyed. They felt that Henry was a good man. He was a quiet
visionary gentleman, with a good raport with the heavenly father.
As time passed, Richard’s fury grew, and he openly proclaimed
that he, not Henry should run the plantation. This of course caused many
bad feelings.
These feelings came to a head one spring evening, when Henry
was hosting a fancy feast, with all of the local royalty attending
except (for obvious reasons) Richard.
When this fest was in full swing, Richard burst in, with five of
his biggest
most viscious attack boars. And they tore up the feast, and the people
turning it into a grotesque study of blood and flesh. When this was done
and only Richard and a few others were left alive, Gruesome Richard
proclaimed

“Now is the dinner of our wistful gent wrent gory assunder by this
ton of pork !”
[ The story draws from several Shakespeare Histories and the saying from
his Richard the Third, "Now is the winter of our
discontent made glorious summer by this Son of York."]

[Father Goose #26]

There was this troupe of dancers that traveled around
the country dancing in clubs and theaters. They were called
the Steppers. At one club, the Steppers did such a good job
of pulling in patrons that the management gave them all the
drinks they could drink after the show.

Well, they all got plastered and were having a big party.
When it came time to get on their bus to travel to the next town,
they did not want to stop partying, so they just moved the party
to the bus. As they rode down the highway, you could here their
yelling, singing, and laughing for miles.

At a house along that very highway, there lived a family that
had a pet snake. It was a viper, and it’s name was Peter. That
night, Peter Viper was asleep in his snake house in the back yard.
Suddenly, he was awakened by a loud racket. It was the bus
carrying the Steppers still having their party. But Peter didn’t
know that. In his confusion, he thought he was back in deep dark
Africa being pursued by Pygmies. He slithered out of his snake
house, headed across the yard as fast as he could, and crossed the
highway just in front of the bus. The bus driver, who was a little
sleepy, saw Peter Viper in the road, and mistook him for a giant log.
He swerved, and the bus landed in the ditch, drunk Steppers
lying everywhere.

The next day, the headline in the paper read “Peter Viper
wrecks a truck of pickled Steppers”.

[Father Goose #27]

President Eisenhower’s Mother had a sister; this lady constantly
had trouble in bright sunshine because her nose was so sensitive
that the skin peeled off every summer.

Her doctor made a simple remedy, a small cone of paper (like a
Dunce’s cap) which she stuck onto her nose at the first sign of
sun.

Do you believe this?

I didn’t until Mick Jagger sang about it.

Ike’s Aunt gets nose hat is fact, son

[Father Goose #28]

…End of the part4. To be continued..

[Father Goose #1]

There were three Medieval kingdoms on the shores of a lake.
There was an island in the middle of the lake, which the kingdoms had
been fighting over for years. Finally, the three kings decided that
they would send their knights out to do battle, and the winner would
take the island.
The night before the battle, the knights and their
squires pitched camp and redied themselves for the fight. The first
kingdom had 12 knights, and each knight had 5 squires, all of whom were
busily polishing armor, brushing horses, and cooking food. The second
kingdom had 20 knights, and each knight had 10 squires. Everyone at
that camp was also busy preparing for battle. At the camp of the third
kingdom, there was only one knight, with his one squire. This squire
took a large pot and hung it from a looped rope in a tall tree. He
busied himself preparing the meal, while the knight polished his own
armor. When the hour of battle came, the three kingdoms sent their
squires out to fight ( this was too trivial a matter for the knights to
join in ). The battle raged, and when the dust cleared, the only person
left was the lone squire from the third kingdom, having defeated the
squires from the other kingdoms.

I guess this just proves that the squire of the high pot and noose is
equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides.

[Alternate version:]

It seems that there were these 3 pregnant Indian Squaws, all due to give
birth at about the same time. The first squaw gave birth to a boy, and the
birthing was done on a deer hide. The 2nd also gave birth to a boy, but this
was done on a bear hide. And, the third had twins, two boys, and
she did this on a hippopotamus hide.

I guess *THIS* shows us that the sons of the squaw on the hippopotamus hide
is equal to the sum of the squaws on the other two hides.

[Father Goose #2]

There was a new driver for the bus on Sesame Street. His first
day on the job, he awoke bright and early, went to the garage, got
the bus, and set off on his route.

At the first stop there was a chubby little girl waiting for
the bus. She climbed the step and got on, and said,
“Hi. My name is Patty.”
The driver replied,
“Hi, Patty. Please take a seat.”

At the second stop there was a second little girl, even chubbier
than the first. She got on and said,
“Good morning! My name’s Patty.”
The driver answered,
“Good morning. Please sit down.”

At the third stop there was a little boy waiting. He was dressed
in a white shirt and tie, and a suit with a vest, and he had a
calculator holster on his belt. He said,
“Hi. My name is Ross, and I’m special!”
The driver wasn’t impressed, but he managed a smile and said,
“Please sit down, Ross.”

The fourth stop rewarded the driver with a grubby little boy
with dirty jeans and torn sneakers. He got on the bus and said,
“My name is Lester Cheese.”
The driver replied,
“Please take a seat, Lester.”

Well, he’s driving along and he looks in his rear-view mirror
and sees that Lester Cheese has taken off his sneakers and is
scratching at his foot. The driver pulls the bus over to the
side of the rode, stops it, and says,

“I can’t take this any longer! I’ve got

two obese Patties,
special Ross,
Lester Cheese picking bunions
on a Sesame Street bus!

[Father Goose #3]

A while back, there were two kingdoms situated close by each other.
One kindgom had a powerful king, and the other had a relatively weak
king. The difference (or so everybody said) was that the powerful
king had a magic throne, which had the property of making people
powerful.
Well, the weak king wanted this throne, so he had a trusted
count get up an army (you know, knights, pages, reporters, that kind
of thing) to fetch it.
The army trudged along for a day or two (only the reporters
would know for sure) and came upon the powerful king’s castle.
The castle entrance was guarded by a huge yellow monster
with huge yellow hands. The army (being an army and all) attacked!
The huge Yellow Monster ate them all, except for two pages
who did not engage in the fight. The pages, being very frightened,
hid until nightfall.
When night came along, the pages peeked from their hiding
place and saw that the monster was asleep. The only thing guarding
the entrance now was the monsters huge hands draped in front of the
opening. The pages, being only 8 years old and all, were able to
squeeze through the yellow fingers and gain entrance into the
castle.

Moral: let your pages do the walking through the yellow fingers.

[Father Goose #4]
Once inside the castle, the pages had no trouble finding the
throne. Combined, they were just strong enough to lift it, and were
able to carry it out of the castle. (The monster gave them no
further trouble, since they had the throne and everything.)
After having walked half the night with the heavy throne
between them, they were very tired and stopped at a grass house
to rest. The farmer who lived there, wanting to steal the throne for himself,
let them spend the night in the barn. The throne was “hid” in the
farmer’s attic.
Some hours later, the farmer stole into his barn and killed
the pages.
The farmer went back to bed. A few minutes later, the
throne crashed through the ceiling, crushing and killing the farmer
and his wife.

Moral: people who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.

[Father Goose #5]
When the powerful king found his throne missing the next
day, he ordered HIS army to kidnap the other king’s count and force
him to tell where the throne was being hid. The session went as
follows:

king: Where is the throne?
count: I cannot tell you.
king: Then I will have you killed! Executioner, cut off his
head!
count: (as the axe is swinging down…)
Ok! I will tell you!
THWACK!!!

Moral: don’t hatchet your counts before they chicken.

[Father Goose #6]

A wild life photographer goes on an expedition to South America to photograph
the legendary and hitherto unseen foo bird. On the way he attempts to hire
porters from a tribe of Pygmys. They warn him of the dreaded curse on all
who look upon the bird and refuse to join. Undaunted the intrepid photographer
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Chapter 19. Barbara

Chapter 20. Lisa

Chapter 21. Secret Codes

…End of the part10. To be continued..

A young girl asked her mother “Mommy, do you get into heaven feet first?”

“I don’t know, why do you ask?”

“Because the maid’s upstairs with her feet in the air, shouting `God, I’m
coming, God, I’m coming,’ but dad’s on top and won’t let her go.”

–

Finally, someone said, “Oh, Jane, this is Len Josephs.”

“Len! Wow! I’ve always wanted to meet you!” We shook hands, but wound up
hugging one another. Len and I had exchanged some mail years before, and
admired one another’s work. Instantly, I wanted to take him to bed. It was
quite a shock because I don’t normally feel that strongly about someone
seconds after meeting him. It was literally lust at first touch.

Since we had friends in common, we went to dinner together. Now, I’m not
the sort of woman who picks men up. It simply had never happened before.
I’d had the occasional extra-marital lover, but it had always been with a
friend, not with someone I’d just met. I fought with myself all during
dinner. How obvious could I be with him about the way I felt? Could I
actually say to him, “I’d love to make love with you.”? While Len and I
wound up sitting together at dinner, and while he made me laugh a lot, he
seemed to back off when my knee rested against his. Well, I knew he was
married, so maybe he didn’t fool around. Still, I felt like someone had
shot me full of speed. I shook like crazy, and felt about ready to fly off
the chair, just looking at him.

After dinner, he went back to his room. I went back to my room. I paced
around a lot. He’d given his friends his room number, and I’d memorized it.
I walked to the elevator, went to his floor and stood before his door. I
raised my hand to knock…then turned and returned to my room.

I guessed I wasn’t the sort of woman who can knock on a man’s door, without
a reason other than to ask “Wanna fuck?”.

Suddenly, I realized I had a book he’d expressed some interest in at dinner.
I took the book and practically bolted back to his room. This time, my hand
connected with the door. When he opened the door, he had a genuinely
shocked expression on his face, but I talked over it. “I’m sorry if I
disturbed you, but I thought you’d be interested in seeing this.” I said,
going into his room without further invitation.

“Oh, no problem. I was just resting.” We sat down on the beds and looked
at the book together. Eventually, I sat on the bed beside him. As we
looked at the book, we sat closer and closer together. Finally, he took my
hand and squeezed it hard. “I’m going over to Lori’s party for a while.
Do you want to come back later?”

“Oh, yes! I don’t normally do this sort of thing, but I really want to come
back.”

“I don’t want to stay over there for TOO long.”

“Me neither.” We stood up and kissed. As hot as I felt, he felt hotter.
But it didn’t show on his face the way it had to be showing on mine. I kept
feeling myself turning red in front of him.

“What about precautions….”

“Well, I’m not too concerned. My period ended yesterday…”

“I’d better go get some condoms.”

I felt severely embarrassed, being a college-educated, Planned-Parenthood
trained woman. At least if I was on the verge of behaving irresponsibly, I
had the good luck to find someone who WASN’T. “You’re absolutely right.
Sorry about that.”

“It’s OK,” he kissed me again, his tongue brushing my lips.

I dashed back to my room, slipped into something more comfortable (yet
socially acceptable), and went to Lori’s room. Many old friends were there,
but I couldn’t engage in coherent conversation. My thoughts and eyes kept
drifting to Len, who sat in a corner, talking. Finally, after a day-long
half hour, I went out of the party and down to the bar. I kept calling
Len’s room, to see if he’d gotten the hint and had returned to his room. No
dice. After yet another overly long half-hour, I returned to the party. He
was still there. Whew! I wandered the party a bit, then returned to the
hallway. Len followed after a moment.

“I thought you’d changed your mind.” he said sadly.

“God no. I just can’t sit still. Can we go now?”

“Yes.” We walked to the elevator, relieved that there was no one in it. I
took his hand, but we dropped hands as soon as the door opened on his floor.
No one was in the hall either, so we walked to his room together.

We were both nervous. I ran to the bathroom. He turned on the TV. “Can we
turn it off?” I asked, turning on the light across the room.

“I don’t mind.” I turned the set off and joined him on the bed. We kicked
off our shoes and laid back, just holding hands and watching each other at
first. His hands were large and bony and very strong. I suppose I have
something of a hand fetish, because just stroking his hands really turned me
on.

As we kissed, his tongue filled my mouth, and I sucked on his tongue until
my lips were sore. He played with the straps of my dress, reaching his
hand into the front to play with my bra. He took off the dress, but had a
little problem with the bra—it was one of those strapless affairs with
innumerable hooks. He took the bra off and suckled hard on my breasts. I
lay back on the bed, caressing his neck and beginning to moan in pleasure.

I finally sat up enough to help him off with his clothes. I had as much
trouble with his sansa-belt slacks as he’d had with my bra earlier. But he
helped out, and I found him hard and hot. He lay on top of me, his cock
rubbing against my underpants. My clit began trembling against his heat.
He reached inside, stroking my clitoris. “You’re so wet,” he murmurred.

“I’m not usually THIS bad…” I said, running my hands up and down his back.
My underpants were literally dripping from six hours of thinking about him and
a half hour of foreplay. Already, waves of pleasure were streaming through
my body. I remembered some of the net jokes about “If this is just
foreplay, tonight is going to kill me.” I wondered what my husband would
think if I died in the arms of another man…

I leaned forward and tentatively took his penis in my mouth. He was longer,
but narrower than what I was used to. He moaned, working my underpants off.
I sucked on him harder, feeling his cock get even hotter.

He pushed me off, laying me back and spreading my legs. “Aren’t you going
to go down on me?” I asked watching him grab for his condoms.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted that.”

“Not want it??! Please, do!”

He fell between my legs, his pointed tongue pushing hard against my clit.
I became even wetter, some from his tongue, but mostly from my incredibe
rate of arousal. His tongue was very forceful, feeling more like a slick
finger than a tongue. He licked me out, his tongue darting in and out of
my vagina.

Finally he rose, and put the condom on effortlessly. He knelt and slid
very slowly into me, like someone using an iron poker to make a fire flare.
I pulled him in tight, feeling about ready to explode. Very gradually, we
moved together. I pulled my legs up to let him in ever further. We
shifted around quite a bit, and I took some time on top, pressing my hips
into his. An orgasm hit me so hard that my knees went weak, and I fell on
my arms to avoid hitting him.

We flipped over again, and he began pumping into me vigorously. He pulled
up my leg and wrapped it wround his shoulder. His face, usually so bland,
positively glowed as I came again. I couldn’t stop moaning. He finally
came, rolling aside and stroking my belly. The whole lower half of my
body spasmed, and I couldn’t speak for a moment.

“Same time, next year?” he asked.

“Oh!” We held onto one another, giggling. “It’s funny…that’s the
kind of lover I always wanted.”

I was amazed by how quickly he was ready to come again. I was certainly
more than ready myself! As we made love again, every nerve in my body
trembled. My body throbbed in utter pleasure. The experience reminded me
of a very long weekend my then-boyfriend (now husband) shared long ago.

We attempted to sleep together. He was far more successful than I. I found
it impossible to sleep when I was tingling so much. I finally drifted off.
When I woke up, I saw his eyes looking down on me. “Good morning,” he said,
his soft voice arousing me as much as his touch had the night before.

“Hi.” I reached up and started playing with his hair.

“How are you?” He kissed me.

“I’m tired…but terrific otherwise.” I kissed him back hard, noticing that
his penis was standing at attention under his pajamas. “Do you want to…?”

“Hmmm…” He took off his pajamas. I took off my slip, he put on a condom
and was inside me instantly. My orgasm built quickly, and I kept trying to
muffle myself, worrying that I might wake up the folks in the next room. I
sucked on his fingers, trying to quiet myself.

When we were done, I clung to him. The notion of leaving him tore at me.
But, I knew we both had roommates to consider for the duration of the
conference, and various responsibilities. I kept telling him how wonderful
he’d been, and he kept telling me how exhausted he felt. Finally, I knew I
had to leave, so I kissed him goodbye and went to my room for a much-needed
shower and a change of clothes.

I ran into him often over the next week. I particularly remember joking
with him in the bar the next night, with our respective roommates almost
within earshot. That night, after being awake for nearly two days, I laid
down on my bed as my roommate brushed her teeth in the bathroom. Just
lying down made my whole body quake, as if he were laying beside me and
taking me from behind. It was as if I was in bed with a demon. I don’t
think my roommate heard my sudden, load moan. I bit my lips and shifted my
position. It was so strange to feel myself coming without being touched,
but them, the previous 24 hours had been pretty strange.

Len and I never could work out a reunion that week. In some ways, it
didn’t matter. The night with him sent my body into what felt like a
two-month orgasm. I could feel his cock slide into me, or his tongue move
against my clit. I spent much of that week blushing. For two months, I
couldn’t make love with my husband without feeling Len. That was very
frustrating, because Len and I could never be any more than long distance
lovers. But after about two months, I approached love-making with my
husband with renewed zeal, and started appreciating him again for the fine
lover that he is.

And Len? He turned out to be a terrific one-night stand.

She knew I’d be watching for her, and the way she stopped just
outside the lady’s room door. She posed in that spraddle-legged,
hip-shot stance, that was as subtle as a train wreck. But
complain? Not me!!!

Candice started back across the wide-planked wooden floor, each
step performed almost like a samba. Her legs made a swish as
their nylon coverings softly touched the knit skirt, and her
pelvis rocked, side-to-side, tugging one side of that tight
skirt, and then the other. The knit emphasized the motion of her
thighs as they moved, the fabric highlighting her mons, where it
gathered quietly.

Glancing higher, her breasts moved, gently bouncing and swaying,
seemingly unrestrained. Their motion seemed to be having an
interesting effect on her nipples, as their arousal and erectness
became more apparent as she drew closer. Either A> she was a
turned-on as I was, or B> she was smuggling cherries in her bra,
or C> the room was colder to her than it was to me. Not that it
mattered a damn bit. The view was fantastic, and I enjoyed every
second of it.

As she approached the table, there was a broad smile on her face,
and an enticing twinkle in her eyes, like she had a secret.
Instead to taking the chair directly across the table, she had
been using, she took a seat next to him, where both he and the
table shielded her from the room.

After sitting, she leaned forward, as if to speak softly. As her
head tilted, her long blonde mane softly swirled, and a quick
shake of her head settled it. I moved my closer, and my eyes
widened in surprise and pleasure, as her sharp fingernails
sensuously raked the length of my thigh.

“We’re going to discover some things together, Eric,” she said in
a husky, sultry tone.

“Like what?”

“Ohhhhhhh, like how good the steaks are here…. And how big your
gun is….. And……..,” her voice dropped until it was almost
inaudible, “we’re going to discover where you intend to spend the
night.”

“Jesus, Candice….”

“You’re not interested?”

“Of course I’m interested,” he gasped. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

A flush started to rise in her cheeks before she responded, “No,
Eric. I’m the one who’s acting crazy. I’m sorry if I
embarrassed you.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” I said in what i hoped was a quiet
soothing voice. “At least not yet. Let’s eat our meals, and
make sure that that last statement wasn’t just the booze
talking.”

=====================================================================

In the far corner of the bar, Leon had watched the entire
scenario unfold with a look of contempt on his face. He hated
cops. And he hated fancy bitches almost as much. There
weren’t many things in this life that he didn’t hate.

He didn’t really hate cops but it seemed as if they were
always around. Always picking on him, causing him trouble. Like
the time he’d been caught peeping in his neighbor’s apartment.
He sighed and nursed his beer. What a sight she had been……

He’d watched her off and on, ever since she’d moved in,
right across the street. At first, he’d thought she was teasing
him; the way she seemed to leave the drapes open. The first time
he’d noticed he was waiting for Bodo to pick him up for work.

Leon immersed himself in the circumstances that lead to his
last contact with the police………

Leon hated working nights, but with his looks and record he
couldn’t get a job at a bank, and stock brokers wouldn’t touch
him with a ten foot pole (or two five foot Swedes glued
together). The job at the “Stop and Rob” just barely paid his
rent, so he’d had to supplement it by working as a collector for
Guido Schungilli. Bodo had recruited him one night after he’d
had enough of a group of punk rockers.

The four kids had been in and out of the store, buying
cigarettes, beer, bothering customers, and slobbering over the
’skin magazines’ on the rack near the back door for over an hour
when they’d started scuffling. In the process, they’d kicked
over a display of bottled beer, smashing several bottles, and
making an awful mess

Leon had grabbed the short baseball bat he kept under the
counter and confronted them. Demanding that they pay for what
they’d broken.

“Cough it up,” Leon demanded, snapping his fingers.

“Up yer’s. We was just leavin’”

The four spike-haired freaks pushed past him, making for the
entrance. Leon was right behind them. The punkers banged the
door open and arranged themselves in a semi-circle.

“Let’s have the cash, asshole,” Leon growled.

“You can have THIS,” shouted the largest of the quartet, as
he attempted a round-house punch.

Leon’s face took on a wolfish grin, as he countered the blow
with a short thrust of the bat to the punk’s diaphragm. In less
than fifteen seconds all of the leather-clad, chain draped, spike
encrusted delinquents were on the ground, gasping and moaning.
Leon casually picked them up, and one at a time, unceremoniously
tossed them into the stinking dumpster near the curb.

“Nicely done.”

The softly spoken words interrupted Leon’s thoughts as
ambled back to the store.

“I said..Nicely done.” The words came again from behind the
darkly tinted window of a new Lincoln Leon had not seen earlier.

“No big deal……Just tossing out some trash.”

A few minutes later Leon had an offer for employment to
supplement the $6.50 an hour he was making as night manager.
Sigbodt (Bodo) Elliffson made it sound easy. He ran the
collection operation for the town’s biggest gambler, Guido
Schungilli. All Leon would have to do was ‘lean’ on a few folks
with faulty memories…..and he could keep half of what he
collected.

All of it had flooded over Leon, as he sat in his dark
apartment, waiting for Bodo, and watching his young neighbor
’star’ in that evening’s installment of, “Letch at your
Neighbor”.

He groaned as he watched the girl dancing along with the
exercise tape. She was wearing her usual un-outfit; just a filmy
bra and barb-wire panties. Leon grinned at that line, and
thought ‘barb-wire panties’…. they protect the property but
…End of the part3. To be continued..

“I think you’ll like the question,” she giggled. “If you saw a
couple in bed… Just like we are now… You know like
spoons… Both facing the same way, and pressed tight
together… Can you guess the man’s name?”

“Huh…?” (God I’m brilliant in the morning.)

“Can you guess the man’s name… You have two choices, and
either one of them could be right.” More giggling and wriggling.

“I don’t have a clue…. Tell me.” Now my other hand was full of
tit, while I ran my free one up and down her side, thigh and
over the cheek of her ass.

“And the answers are…….. Willie Turner,” giggle, “or Willie
Taylor”. The second name was accompanied by a twitch of her
butt.

“Ahhhhhhh,” I said, “I understand now.” The hand that had been
stroking her thigh and ass dipped down between her firm cheeks,
and traced a line the full length of her pussy and up over her
anus. “Now I have a question for you, little girl.”

“What’s that?”

“Can you reach into that drawer beside you, and get the tube of
K-Y? Then either Mr. Turner or Mr. Taylor can visit.”

Momentarily, she handed me the tube of lube, and said, “I feel so
lazy this morning…… Would you mind if I didn’t move?”

“Then it would be Mr. Taylor who comes calling, I suppose.”

“As long as he’s gentle,” she sighed.

“Very…..” I quickly replied. “I suppose the best thing would
be for you to roll over…. No… On your stomach.”

=====================================================================

Leon’s hands were shaking, he was so excited, as he handed
over the still damp prints to Bodo. “The bastard gave me the
slip on the Freeway, so after I looked for him and couldn’t find
him I went to the darkroom to see what the camera captured.”

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Bodo exclaimed. “Does anyone else know
you’ve got these?”

“Of course not, Boss,” Leon quipped. “See they’re not even
dry yet.”

Leon reached for his car phone, and after waiting for the
connection to be completed he started, “Guido…. Was Rhonda
home tonight?”

There was a pause while the Big Boss answered. He
continued, “Well, I’ve got something here you have to see right
away. Can I stop over now?”

=====================================================================

I squeezed a generous glob of the K-Y onto my finger, and
carefully positioned on her pink puckered rosebud. I gave it a
few seconds to begin to liquefy, and then rubbed it in. It’s a
dirty job. But somebody has to do it…

As my fingers first touched, then stroked, then penetrated her
tight ass, her legs opened, and the muscular ring relaxed. I
added more K-Y, and the slippery substance coating my fingers
made it easy for other digits to play with her pussy, as her
rectum was readied and relaxed.

Finally, I got on my knees, between hers and applied a liberal
coat of slippery stuff to ‘Ol Faithful.

“Ready?” I asked…. Hoping the answer would be yes, but not
really caring, because from this position her pussy was equally
available…. and we both knew that she was about to get fucked.

“I think so,” she answered, as she rose up on her knees,
presenting those wonderful flared hips, those tight buns, that
deep wonderful cunt and her tight puckered back door. “Just be
careful.”

I moved forward, and placed “Ol Fathful’s” head in the center of
her anus, and pressed forward. I could feel the tightness, the
resistance of her sphincter holding me out.

“Easy…. Let me relax,” she said.

“I’ll just stay like this,” I answered through gritted teeth. I
wanted to drive it in, but that wouldn’t be good for Candi. And,
if it wasn’t good for her, then why bother…. (Can you believe
that shit!)

I eased off a little, and felt her butthole relax a little, she
urged me forward, breathing shallowly in little sharp gasps, and
the head slipping in. She groaned, and I froze.

“Just give me a second… To get used to you back there,” she
grunted. I waited, and then she said, “Now… Try it slowly.”

I added another dollop of K-Y where we were joined, and pressed
forward. I don’t know if it was the extra grease, but
regardless, I glided in. All the way in.

I felt her move, and asked what she was doing. Her answer was to
cup my balls, and say, “While you bang my asshole, I’m gonna
diddle my clit and stick my fingers into my puss…. Like this!”
Then I felt her fingers almost touch me through the thin membrane
that separated my cock from her pussy.

It was a mind-blowing experience. Fucking her in the ass, while
I steadied myself, with my hands on both sides of that gorgeous
butt, while she came again and again. Her asshole was hot and
tight, and pulsated with her orgasms, and I blew my load deep in
her bowels as I felt her fingers even deeper in her pussy.

It was over more quickly than either of us wanted it to be. But,
it was, and that was that. We separated, and both collapsed on
the bed, kissing and clutching. We had had each other every way
we could think of in the space of twelve or thirteen hours. Now
it was time to come down off our mutual high, and get ready to
face the day, and whatever it was going to hold.

After we showered (together, naturally), and had a couple of cups
of dark brown speed, I wrote her a ticket for DUI to complete her
story and clipped one of my business cards to it, I drove her
back to her car at the Drum.

She came around to my window after she got out of the Chevy, and
said, “Thank you, Eric. We better not do this again…. But, I
hope you don’t mind if I call….”

“Call anytime, Candi. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Eric,” she laughed. “You couldn’t KNOW me any better if you
were my groin-acologist.” With that she unlocked her car,
climbed in and sat behind the wheel.

As I drove away, she was still sitting there, with her forehead
leaning on the steering wheel.

I was watching the other customers, as I used my pen to chase the
ice cubes around in my glass of DeWars, as I thought about the
night before. Nothing like that had ever happened to me. I was
glad it had, but I wasn’t sure I wanted it to continue. All I
needed was some crazy broad, with a great body, an insatiable
appetite for sex, and a jealous husband. Besides, most of my
time was filled up with trying to solve the cases the street
bulls threw my way.

My attention had shifted to the booze as it made oily swirls
through the smoky amber, just like it always did. I’d heard the
tap of high-heels, and unconsciously glanced up and smiled as
Janine carried a tray of fresh drinks to the table in the corner.
She always drew my attention. It was her long tapered legs I
suppose, or maybe the way she filled out her blouse, or the
secret promise I thought I saw in her dark eyes when we flirted.

I’d been stopping in to have a drink almost every evening for
almost a year. A nice enough place, but nothing special. I
suppose it was a combination of their chili and Janine’s muscular
calves that kept me coming back. Maybe I’ll see if she’d like to
go out this weekend, I thought, as I sipped my drink.

I was always coming up with brilliant ideas like that. “Stop
smoking. Stop drinking. Start exercising. Win the Lottery.
Write a book about some interesting case and make a million.” I
was a real fountain of great ideas.

The click of her heels on the hardwood floor brought me out of my
thoughts. I looked up, and there was Janine.

“I almost said something earlier,” she said, “but decided not
to.”

“What’s that?” I asked, as I stared at the way her heavily
starched blouse swelled over her full breasts.

“That I was surprised to see you in here tonight.”

“Why’s that? (See a brilliant conversationalist. Two, two word
sentences, back-to-back.)

“I kinda thought, you friend in the tight blue dress would have
you tied up.” she grinned.

“That’s one thing we didn’t try,” I grinned back. Can I ask you
something?” I asked in a more serious tone.

“Sure,” she said, “but then I get to ask you something.”

“Sounds fair…. Would you like to catch a flick or something to
eat, or something this weekend? Ya’ know I’m almost afraid to
ask you again…….”

“I’d love to do something with you this weekend, Eric,” she said,
running her wet tongue over her full red lips. “Saturday?”

“Saturday would be great…. About 8:00?

She nodded, and handed me a napkin with a phone number on it.
“Now I get to ask you something…..”

“Okay,” I said. “Ax away.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about reincarnation lately…. And If
you could be reincarnated as anyone or anything in the world…
Who, or what would it be?”

“I haven’t really thought about, but I suppose… How about as a
handsome Malcomb Forbes?” (I was really quick). “Since you’re
the one who’s given it so much thought… What or who would you
come back as, Janine?”

“Mel Gibson’s wife’s pussy!” she answered, as she gave me a big
wink and turned back toward the bar.

“Janine!” I shouted.

She turned, and looked at me.

I saw her blush after I said, “I think your’s will do just fine.”

29 Reasons why
Beer is better than men

1a. Beer makes you feel better when you have your period.
2a. Beer stains don’t smell funny the next day.
3a. Beer goes where you want it to.
4a. Your beer will always wait patiently for you in the car while
you try on shoes at the mall.
5a. Your beer never suffers performance anxiety.
5b. When your beer won’t get a head up, you can toss it out.
6a. Beer doesn’t stand there tapping it wristwatch.
6b. No woman ever got stood up by a beer.
7a. A beer doesn’t start a fistfight with an ale.
8a. Puking will rid you of that queasy feeling you get when
you made the wrong choice.
8b. Beer doesn’t get drunk and call you at 3am to beg.
8c. You don’t need a restraining order with bad beer.
8d. I never met a beer with a criminal record.
9a. Beer labels come off when you want them to.
10a. When you go to a bar, you can pick up a beer without worrying
about that tan line on his ring finger.
10b. You can pick up a beer in a bar right in front of your mom
and she won’t mind.
11a. Beer never has a bad temper.
12a. A beer won’t throw you into the back seat of a 76′
Datsun and dry hump you under a mercury vapor lamp.
12b. A beer won’t toss you in the passenger seat of a
Mazda RX7 and show you it can go 100MPH on a flat stretch.
13a. A beer doesn’t bring strange people home with it.
14a. Its easy to give beer good head with minimal shaking up.
15a. You don’t have to worry about a gag reflex with beer.
16a. You can have more than one beer in a night without feeling sore.
17a. You can talk to your girlfriends about your beer without it getting
pissed off.
18. You have a good idea where that beer has been before you got it.
19a. No one ever had to sleep in a beer spot.
20a. Beer doesn’t dis’ you because you are a babe.
21a. A beer won’t shove its hand up your dress at your graduation
party.
22a. You don’t have to fake it for a beer. Beer has no ego.
23a. A cold beer is a good beer.
24a. Beer tastes good.
25a. Beer doesn’t leave you. It snuggles around your hips for
a lifetime.
26. A beer doesn’t hate your cat.
27. You can get six at once without taxing yourself.
28. A beer doesn’t mind if you don’t finish.
29. A beer won’t leave the lid up.

–

It was a working meeting and she was in one group while he was in another.
Only occasionally did they have to address one another. Toward the end of the
meeting, he asked for some assistance from anyone in the room. As she looked
at him, their eyes met, seriously, for the first time. He knew, she was his.
Of course, in a meeting such as this, there was no time for exploring the
relationship further. But tomorrow was another day.

Since she lived in the general area, she left with her car pool and he
wandered back to the hotel following the meeting. The next morning, he was in
the meeting room getting ready for the meeting when she came in with an arm
full of papers to be distributed. He jumped up to help her and lifted the
load from her arms. As he did, his arm brushed against her body. To anyone
else, it would have looked innocent, but he knew there was electricity passed
on that casual touch. So did she; they both knew it. During the day, he had
several other opportunities to be close to her. His touch was returned,
albeit only slightly, each time. He knew she was his. She knew she was
attracted to this man.

That’s all there was to this first meeting. Although they did go to dinner at
her home and met her husband, two children, dogs, cats and assorted other
house guests. He knew, however, there would be many more meetings and the
foundation had been laid. She knew too.

The next time was a working meeting in Phoenix, far from both their homes. As
usual, the first day was casual, with the greetings and small talk that
normally accompanied such meetings. Oh sure, they got their work done but the
real meeting was to take place later.

They all went to dinner at a local restaurant. He made sure he sat next to
her and they visited cordially all evening. His leg casually brushed up
against hers several times and was met with little resistance. His touches
were returned and the electricity between them began to build to a crescendo.
As they returned back to the motel, in his rented car, he made sure she was
the last person to be driven to her area of the motel. He pulled into a
parking place and shut off the engine and lights. His arm reached out and
playfully touched hers. She looked at him and they kissed. It was a long,
deep kiss; each other’s tongue probing the other’s mouth. His hand sought out
her breast and she pulled away from him abruptly.

“What’s the matter,” he asked. “Nothing,” she said; “I have to go to my
room.” He walked her to her room and then returned to his. He was so sure
that he had read her right, yet she had pulled away from him. “What the hell
is going on,” he wondered. Just then the phone rang.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s OK,” he muttered. “What
was the problem?” he asked. “I’m married – you are too,” she said. “I can’t
do this,” she protested. “Besides, I’m in the middle of my period,” she
stated matter of factly. “That’s OK,” he said, reassuringly, “We don’t have
to do anything you don’t want to do. I just thought you wanted to …” I
do… did,” she stammered. “This is so difficult – its my first time for any
of this and I don’t know what to do. I want you so bad – but what about my
husband, my children. What would they think?” “Hey, you’re a big girl,” he
said, “You have to make up your mind what is right for you.”

“What does your wife think?”, she asked. “If I don’t tell her, she doesn’t
think anything,” he said. They talked for two hours and finally hung up. He
knew she was his; but it may take a while. She was extremely driven by sex
but she had to work through this. They would have many more times together
and they could wait.

“Do you want to make love to me,” he asked. “Oh yes,” she stammered. He
could tell, just by her voice on the phone, she was blushing. “Will you do it
next time we meet?”, he asked. “Yyyyyessss,” she whispered in the phone. Do
you want me to lick your clit?” he asked. There was a pause on the phone, he
heard a quick breath, “Don’t say that,” she said, “Someone might be
listening.” “You’re getting wet down there, aren’t you?”, he said. “Oohh
God,” she whispered “Shut up.” The AT&T flirting was becoming more direct.

By the time they got to Phoenix, she was so hot that just the sight of him
made the juices start flowing in her pussy. She spotted him in the lobby as
he was registering for his room. This was one of the largest conferences that
their company had ever had, with over 500 employees attending. Both of them
knew a myriad of people and all were staying in this or the adjacent motel.
She knew that she would have to be extremely careful because many of these
people also knew her husband. Yet she was intrigued with this man. He was
not the most handsome man in the world but what attracted her to him. His
hands and the way he talked to her over the phone. His hands were big for the
size of his body and they blended with the upper body of a man who had labored
long and hard in the west as a cowboy, ranch hand, wildlife biologist and
computer operator. He had a quick sense of wit, humor and knew just how to
push the right buttons to make her body quiver at the sound of his voice.
She’d never been with a real cowboy before and the thought of that made
goosebumps appear all over her body. What the hell cowboys had to do with it
was something that puzzled her.

She returned to her room and watched as he took the glass walled elevator to
the 6th floor. She knew he didn’t suspect she was watching him and that
excited her. She was actually getting wet watching this man ride up the
elevator. “What’s the matter with me?,” she thought to herself. She waited a
few more minutes after he left the elevator and began to wonder if she should
call him. After about 15 minutes she walked over to the phone. Just as she
grabbed the receiver, it rang. It scared her so she dropped it on the floor
and she became embarrassed. “He – Hello,” she said as she picked up the
receiver from the floor. “If I say you have a beautiful body, would you hold
it against me,” she heard him say. A gush of fluid escaped from her pussy.
Her body was trembling as she began apologizing for dropping the phone and
stammering various things into the mouthpiece. “What am I saying,” she
thought to herself.

“Sssooo, should I come down and we go to dinner or what?”, he asked. It was
only 5pm as she glanced at her watch, a little early for dinner. “Uummm,
don’t you” she was interrupted by his saying he would be down and they could
discuss it. Before she could answer, he hung up. She rushed to the bathroom
to clean up. She knew her panties would be soaked from all the fluid that had
escaped her pussy as they talked. “What in the hell is the matter with me?”
she wondered to herself. Just as she was finishing the last button on her
levis, a soft knock was heard at the door.

She opened it and her knees started to buckle. He had on his western clothes,
and she had not realized how wonderful she thought he looked. He was not the
“marlboro man”, but she recognized a genuine cowboy when she saw how his
clothes fit and the way he just stood there. The big belt buckle seemed to
gleam like a neon sign. “Well, do I just stand here for the duration, or do I
get invited in?”, he joked. She stepped back and he walked in past her as she
closed the door. Her pussy was soaked and her knees could barely keep her
legs from buckling beneath her.

He looked around her room and walked over to the shades and pulled them shut.
“There’s no sense of advertising the fact that we are together in this room,
for whatever reason”, he said. “There are plenty of people in this outfit
that would be glad to rumor monger us to death,” he continued. “Come over
here,” he commanded. She flew to him and their lips met.

She was helpless in his arms. Those big hands virtually covered her back as
he placed them around her and his strength practically crushed the breath out
of her. He was not a big man but obviously was strong and caring. The kiss
lasted for, it seemed, an hour. He picked her up and carried her to the bed
and laid her down before their lips separated. She was already breathing hard
and her body was in flames. His lips began caressing the sides of her neck
and reached to her ear lobes. His hands had found her breasts and were gently
squeezing them. She wanted to say something but could not find the breath to
do so. She was totally his to do with as he saw fit. She knew, somehow, that
he would not be cruel to her nor ask her to do anything that she did not want
to do. She trusted this man implicitly.

By now, her blouse was fully opened and his hands were exploring her stomach
and had already caressed her legs. She felt him following her zipper down to
her crotch and the juices in her pussy were drenching her panties. She
wondered if they would soak through her levis. As his hand applied just
slight pressure to her pussy, she came for the first time. Her body arched
against his touch and her breathing became erratic. Flames shot up the front
of her body, piercing her breasts and bringing a blush to her face. She was
sweating profusely and was totally out of control.

He began to take off his clothes as he caressed her body with his lips. He
moved away from her to remove his pants and she sat up on the bed. “I hope
you don’t like big breasts,” she said; “If you do, you’re going to be really
disappointed by me.” He finished removing his pants and returned to making
love to her. “Anything more than a mouthful is excess,” he whispered to
reassure her that he would not be disappointed. He removed her bra and his
lips met her nipples and began caressing them with gentleness, yet firmness
she had never before experienced. His had again found her crotch and she came
again. Not the full climax she would feel later but still, enough to take her
breath away and cause her to feel the flames of desire shoot from her pussy to
her breasts where her lover was working intently. Her nipples caused huge
contractions in her pussy each time her lover sucked on them. Her hips
gyrated with each sucking action, pushing her pussy into the hand that was
gently massaging it through her levis.

She felt the button to her jeans give way and the zipper practically unzipped
itself. A hand crept under her panties and she felt a finger caress the tip
of her clit. “Oh Christ, I’m cumming again,” she thought to herself as
another wave of contractions, flames, muscle spasms and breathlessness
overtook her. She was reveling in the hands of her lover. She raised herself
slightly as he moved lower and began to remove the levis and panties from her
body. When they came off, she raised herself and removed her blouse and bra
that were just hanging on her body. For the first time she saw his erect cock
standing out from his body. She reached for it and began massaging it. She
felt a finger at her clit and it began to rub up and down her slit. She knew
she was ready for entry as the hand slid easily up and down her vaginal entry.
Suddenly, the finger slipped inside her as her lover sucked her left breast
into his mouth. She shuddered as she was almost overwhelmed into a fourth
climax.

Her lover worked his lips and tongue down her stomach as he slowly arranged
himself between her legs. She felt his tongue on her clit as he slowly licked
it. Suddenly, her clit was sucked into his mouth, his tongue flicked it back
and forth mercilessly as his fingers worked inside her vagina. Oh God, Oh
God, Oh God,” she thought as she came again. The waves of excitement came
from deeper within this time. They sucked at her breath, her nipples became
so tight they seemed to be caressed by just the air flowing over them. She
bucked at the tongue which continued to flick her clit. Sweat was streaming
down the sides of her head and beaded up on her stomach. She had never been
with a man that could make her feel this way before.

The waves began to subside and her breath started to return to normal. She
felt him lift himself from her clit and raise above her. As she opened her
eyes, she felt his member enter her vagina. His lips met hers and his tongue
began to reach towards the depths of her throat. She could taste her juices
on his tongue as he rhythmically began fucking her. With each stroke, she
could feel his pubic hair and pelvis rub on her clit. She knew she was in for
one of the strongest climaxes she had ever experienced. His tongue began
tickling the sides of her neck and working toward her ear lobes. One of his
hands had grasped her left nipple and was slowly squeezing it, driving waves
of excitement from her breast toward her stomach. She could feel the fire
beginning to build in her clit as he began to increase the strokes he used in
fucking her. Her toes started to close, her knees began slowly to straighten,
her stomach was beginning to tighten. She had never been here before.
Suddenly, her breath left. The fire from her clit met the waves leaving her
breasts in the middle of her stomach. Her toes completely curled up. Her
buttocks heaved in excitement and her legs wrapped around her lover as she
pulled him harder and harder into her clit. Slowly soft moans began escaping
her lips. They became louder until she was screaming. She bucked with her
lover and her whole body spasmed against the this climax. She had never had a
feeling such as this. She thought she would pass out as she lost track of
time, space and everything. She felt as if she couldn’t breath, yet she could
hear screams of joy coming from her mouth. As he exploded inside her, she
felt herself lift another notch up the climax ladder. “How far can this go,”
she wondered as she screamed louder. She could not quit bucking and swaying
against the force that was bringing her to this feeling. She wanted it to
last forever, but it began to subside.

She could hear the screaming and moaning beginning to subside but the rhythm
of fucking was still making her pussy and clit cause her to drag her lover
deeper and deeper into her vagina. Harder and harder she pulled at him.
Slowly, she regained some of her consciousness. She could see the sweat on
his chest and she began to feel her breaths coming in somewhat of a regular
fashion. Her lover began to slow his strokes and caress her forehead. Slowly
his lips found hers and his tongue eased itself into her mouth. The spasms in
her stomach muscles began to subside and the slow strokes in and out of her
pussy began to feel like rhythmical interludes. Her toes uncurled and her
legs slowly dropped to the bed.

“Looks to me like you enjoyed that,” he said as he lowered himself to the side
of her. She tried to say something but her throat was so dry, not a sound
came out. She felt as if her throat was sore as she cleared it trying to get
some moisture to her vocal cords. Suddenly, he was up and returned with a
glass of water for her. She drank a little and, as he lay down beside her,
put her head in his arms. “That was wonderful,” she breathed. “I have never,
ever, cum like that before. Where did you learn to do all those things?” she
asked. “Oh, you were just all excited because this was the first time,” he
said.

“What’s for supper?”, he asked. She looked at her watch. “My God,” she
thought, “Its 6:30.” “Its already 6:30!” she exclaimed, “the last time I
looked at my watch, it was only 5:00.” “Time flies when you’re havin’ fun”,
he said. “Maybe we should just order in?” he said with a question in his
voice. “Or we could just skip supper altogether,” she volunteered. “You mean
you think you could handle some more of what we just did?” he asked. “Well,
maybe not right now – but we could discuss it”, she giggled.

They passed the night, making love three more times. Each time, he managed to
make her cum. She could not imagine cumming that many times in one night. It
had never happened to her and she didn’t know what to make of this man who
just walked into her life and practically took her over. She always knew that
sex was very important to her, but this man had awakened things within her
body that she didn’t know existed. Little did she know how much these
feelings would have on her body as the weeks and years progressed.

“You should see those people out there! You’d think I was running was
a whore house or something.” Don said to his wife as he brought a tray
of dirty dishes into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Kathy asked.
“You know that girl who’s always showing off to the guys?”
“She at it again?”
“No, it’s worse!”
“What’s she doing this time?”
“You won’t believe me, so you better take a look for yourself.”
“Let me finish cleaning this pot first.” Kathy told her husband. “You
know, sometimes I think you’re just a horny old goat who’d like to get
into her pants. The poor girl just likes to have fun, and since her
husband doesn’t mind, I don’t understand why you always have to make a
big deal out everything she does.”
“Oh, yeah! Well, wait till you see what that poor girl of yours is
doing this time!”
Unknown to Don, Kathy was envious of Mary’s looks, body, youth, and
the steady fucking she knew the blonde was getting. Kathy, on the other
hand, had to masturbate for her sexual relief because Don was always too
busy with their tavern. Even at fifty years old, Kathy was still in
pretty good shape and had received many offers from the men who came in.
Since she felt it would be wrong to cheat on her husband, she turned
them all down and masturbated instead. In fact, it was the blonde’s
husband who really got her hooked on masturbating.
Jack had been trying to talk her into going to bed with him for some
time, but Kathy just considered his advances nothing more than friendly
flirting, albeit a little crude at times. About a year ago, when the
place was empty, he came in and started making a play for her again. As
usual, Kathy politely turned him down. Jack finished his beer and just
before leaving, he handed her a box, saying that until she changed her
mind it was something to remember him by.
After he was gone, Kathy opened the package, expecting to find a long
stem rose or type of flower. What she found was anything but flowers,
and she started to laugh. Jack had given her a dildo! She heard of
these, but never actually saw one before. It was two feet long, and each
end of the flexible rubber shaft was molded to look like the head of a
man’s prick. Kathy wondered about its unusual size and shape. The naive
woman was confused. There was no way she could possibly get both ends of
the thing in her at once, so why did it have two dick heads?
Kathy put the dildo to good use though. She quickly became experienced
at using it, and after only a few days was addicted to masturbating with
it. For the first time in her life she could have a hard dick in pussy
for as long and as many times as she wanted it. She even stopped
bothering Don about having sex altogether. He didn’t seem to mind,
because their constant bickering with one another had ceased, and Kathy
was in a better mood.

Jack kept talking to Bob, knowing that if he didn’t and things got
quiet, Sue would move her hand away from Mary’s pussy. While pretending
to be interested in what Bob was saying, Jack put his hand back under
the table and searched for Sue’s. Both women stiffened when they felt
his fingers. Bob rambled on about his favorite subject while, right
across from him, his wife and Jack were rubbing Mary’s pussy.
“Oh!” Mary sighed loudly when Jack’s finger plunged into her wet slit
and he wiggled it around. “That’s right, and if you don’t get the hook
set just…” Bob continued, as if Mary was suddenly interested in
fishing.
Sue had to stifle a giggle at her husband’s ignorance. With all the
wine, plus the outrageous things the three of them were doing, a crazy
idea popped into Sue’s head. Moving her fingers above Jack’s, Sue parted
the slippery lips of Mary’s pussy and began stroking her clit with the
tip of her fingernail. Another sigh came from Mary, but Bob kept right
on talking. Sue then squeezed her hand around Mary’s entire vulva,
leaving only a small puffy opening so Jack could continue to finger-fuck
his wife.
Mary bit her lower lip to keep from screaming out as Jack and Sue
played with her cunt under the table. The blonde had done some pretty
bizarre things since marrying Jack, but they had never anything in
public. Mary knew that most of the people in town thought she was a
flake and a tease. This was okay though, because she thought most of
them were boring. She wondered what people would say if they ever found
out that their recently elected Mayor’s wife liked playing with another
woman’s pussy.
Mary slowly began clenching and unclenching her ass cheeks, causing
her pussy to move up and down slightly. Jack shoved another finger
inside her and spread her pussy open. Sue released her grip from around
Jack’s fingers, and then slid her middle one between his. At the same
time, they both pushed the digits into his wife’s dripping hole. Mary
lost control, doubling over as though she had severe cramp in her
stomach.
“Are you all right, Mary?” Bob asked.
“I’m… okay.” the trembling girl barely managed to say.
“Why don’t we go to the ladies room, honey.” Sue said as she stood up.
Jack looked past his wife and said, “You’ll make sure she’s feeling
better before she comes… back, right Sue?”
“Don’t worry, she’ll feel a lot better by the time we come… back.”
As the two women went to the ladies bathroom, Bob noticed a big wet
spot in the seat of Mary’s pink dress and made a comment to Jack about
it.
“She’s got female problems… can’t control her water very well.” Jack
said convincingly, but knowing full well the stain was there because
Mary’s pussy flowed juice easier than any woman he know of.

Out on the dance floor, it looked like Janice and Melisa had started a
…End of the part2. To be continued..