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The growing membership of the Willyville Nudist Society (formed
somewhere around July 11th) petitioned the mayor’s office to temporarily
modify the laws against public indecency so as to allow the nudists to
pursue their own version of ‘personal freedom’. A story about it appeared
in the local newspaper, and a day later the mayor’s office recieved over a
thousand anonymous letters in support of the petition. However, almost 80%
of those letters were mimeographed in the same writing, unsigned, and sent
without return addresses. Somebody had been very busy, indeed. There was no
comment from the mayor’s office about the whole situation. Rumor had it he
had snuck out of town for a long overdue vacation…

For Harold Sykes, the usual lunacy of Willyville passed over him
without notice as his days stretched into a grey cloud of depression. At
work he hardly spoke, and when he went home he drew the blinds and sat in
the stifling heat staring at a blank wall. When he saw a pretty girl out on
the street he would avert his eyes until she passed by. When his friends at
work spoke to him he would always jump, as if jolted from some private
world. When asked about his change of behavior, he would simply dismiss it
as the aftermath of a breakup. But deep inside his heart ached and he spent
long, sleepless nights wondering who Cindi might be with and what they
might be doing and being certain that she was having a far, far better time
now than she had ever had with him. His depression grew deeper and deeper
and he knew that over the horizon lay only more dark clouds.

The situation came to a head when Harold nearly throttled a co-worker
for singing “Zipity-Doo-Da” one morning after announcing his engagement.
After explaining to his supervisor (and the police officer) that he had
been under a lot of stress lately, he was awarded with a two-week (unpaid)
vacation and the advice to see a psychiatrist. Soon.

Instead he sat at home, watching “Love Boat” reruns and drinking some
horrible beer and lemonade concotion bottled in New Jersey. Masochism was
the word of the day here.

He was idly (and a bit drunkenly) trying to decide whether to use a
sledgehammer or a shotgun on the TV set when the phone rang.

The harsh, obnoxious sound grated in his ears, pulling him from the
fantasy that enveloped him. A part of him begged to answer the phone, as
usual, to see who would be calling. The rest of him said screw it, why
bother?

Finally, long ingrained habit won out. He lurched over to the phone
and yanked the reciever off the cradle. Placing it to his mouth, he offered
the most cheery greeting his jangled mind could come up with.

“Go fuck yourself.”

There was moment’s hesitation before a familiar male voice came out of
the other end. “Harold! How ya doin’?”

“Hi, Tom.” Harold sighed. Tom was Harold’s best friend and a devout
hedonist, to boot. “I’m doing fine. Just don’t feel like getting out much
in this heat, is all.”

“Yeah, right.” Tom said in a voice that made it perfectly clear he
didn’t believe a word of it. “Well, shit, man, you need to get out
sometimes, before you start to grow cobwebs or something. And I got just
the thing…”

Harold silently groaned and rubbeed his temples. The only thing he
wanted was to be left alone. One of Tom’s ‘just the thing’ ideas was the
last thing he needed right now. “Uh, look, maybe later-”

“Later my ass!” The voice on the other end roared. “I know what
happened. Kelly told me.” Harold’s eyes widened but he really wasn’t
surprised. He fully expected Cindi to blab to everyone who would sit still
long enough to listen. He tried to imagine that Cindy was sitting in front
of him instead of the TV and suddenly his hands fairly itched for that
sledgehammer.

Tom continued, “Shit, man, something like that would’ve killed me.
Cindi has got to be the most twisted bitch I have ever heard of. Nobody has
a right to do that to somebody else.”

“Yeah, I ain’t too happy about it either. But I can’t do anything, so
how about I call you later-”

“I ain’t done yet.” Tom interrupted firmly. “You’ve got to get out of
there and back into circulation. You stay in that dark house much longer,
you’re going to do something stupid.” Harold felt a sudden shock. What had
he been thinking? He had twelve payments to go on the TV yet. Suddenly the
beer and lemonade in his stomach began to churn.

“Look, Harold, I’m your buddy. It hurts me to see what she’s done to
you. I wanna help, and I think I know the best way to do it. There’s a
party going on Saturday afternoon at this place I know over in Squirrel
Heights. Right off Wanker street. The whole gang’s gonna be there, along
with a bunch of other people I don’t know. Lots of available girls, I hear.
Hoping to add a couple to my collection myself. I think you ought to go
with me. Keep me from getting in too much trouble.”

Harold’s voice was thick as he struggled with his gorge. “I… I don’t
know…”

“Aw, c’mon. I want you there. You don’t have to do anything or talk to
anybody if you don’t want. Just soak up some rays and good feelings. I
ain’t heard of anybody going away from a West Side Party feeling bad.”

“Well…”

“It’s settled, then.” Tom concluded, perhaps a bit prematurely. “I’ll
be by about noon Saturday, and you can ride with me. I know you don’t
drink, and I could use somebody sober to drive me home. If I go home at
all. If not, you can use the car. Sound good?”

Harold had his voice under control and was actually feeling a bit
better. Tom’s nonstop talking had distracted him from the full impact of
the crisis, and his depression was beginning to lift a bit. “Sure, why not?
Should I bring anything?”

“Toothbrush and a change of shorts, maybe.”

They talked for a few more minutes and when Harold finally hung up, he
felt immensely better. He had felt so alone not long ago. It was good to be
reminded he had friends. Maybe with their help he could pull through this
depression and come out a whole human being once again. But that was still
a ways off.

In the meantime, he tidied the house up. Lastly he came to the
collection of bottles from his binge that morning. He was astonished to
discover how much of that stuff he had drunk. Thinking about it reminded
him just how awful the stuff really was. He hiccuped once and ran for the
bathroom, hand over his mouth.

He almost made it.

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reaction to sex.”

“Fuck you, you bastard. I love the motherfucker and you

can’t say otherwise.”

“Jeanine, give me the joint. No, go, go ahead, finish it.

You can’t possibly love him ’cause you don’t know the first thing about

him.”

“Like hell I don’t. I know how he treats me. I can tell how

strongly he feels about me from the way he touches me. Do you realize

how he makes me feel?”

“That’s what good sex is like. Don’t confuse your physiology

with your emotions.”

“They’re inseparable, dummy. Our emotions are rooted in our

physiology.”

“Our emotions are rooted in our spirits, which have nothing

to do with our bodies.”

“If you don’t tell me who the fuck he is, I’m going to tell

the dean you had him rape me, and then you’ll be screwed. You think

you’re going to be able to withhold his name from the cops when they’re

interrogating you?”

* * *

“Look, why don’t you want me to tell her it was you? She

loves you, for chrissake.”

Paul Banks sighed, shaking his head, then jerked off the metal

crank that triggered the sprinkler system. We were the a gigantic

greenhouse the agriculture students grew experimental crops in during

the winter. Abruptly the slender jets of water arching over the

beds of loam were reduced to weak trickles.

“She can’t possibly love me; she doesn’t know the first

thing about me.”

“Well, I know, but she insists that she does. Who are we

to argue? It’s her feelings.”

He began walking to a wall where rakes and other tools were

hung. I followed him.

“Look, she says it’s the way you touch her, the way you make

her feel.”

“It’s called orgasm, not love.”

“Well, I know, but…I’m in a total mess here, Paul.”

“Yeah, well, it was a weird idea.”

He grabbed some sort of peculiar tool, a wooden bar ending

with forking plastic tubes.

“You had fun with it, didn’t you? Come on, fess up. You

took advantage of the situation for your own delight, now you have

to pay the price. It’s like everything in life, right?”

“Goddamit, Bobby, listen to me: I can’t have her find out,

all right?”

His tone was venomous, but his face seemed cramped, his eyes

narrow.

“Bob, I’m married. I have a two-year old daughter, okay?

If my wife and my family find out about this, my marriage will end.

You understand?”

I groaned. Paul watched another student at the other end

of the greenhouse dump a bag of white pellets into a bed of soil. I

struggled to think of something to say, some way to resolve the

situation. Paul turned back to me.

“And if you tell her it’s me, I’ll just deny it. It’s your

word against mine, Bobby.”

* * *

“You goddam coward. How could you do this to me? You…you

not only deceived me, you not only humiliated me, you goddam fucking

well raped me. That’s right, you fucking worthless scumbag: You

raped me. I consented to sex with some guy of your choice, but I did

not consent to sex with you. And I know goddam well it was really

you. That’s why you won’t tell me who it was, you fucking bastard.

I can’t believe that a friend would do this to me; it fucking shocks

me. You’re not a friend of mine, you have never been a friend of mine.

You’ve taken advantage of me, exploited my problems with men simply

to…to goddam rape me. Nine times! I can’t fucking believe it! You

raped me nine goddam times, you…you…”

“Jeanine, no. Hold on. You’re absolutely wrong.”

“I am not goddam wrong. I could fucking smell you, you goddam

…End of the part5. To be continued..

forests whose wildlife, I had no doubt, was far more daring and

vigorous than that on campus. It was a conservative school in a

sleepy, often cold environment conducive to huddling and conserving

energy. The academic tone was one of intellectual diffidence,

cultural muting, religious mainstreaming. Students gazed somberly out

library windows, rested their heads on their desks, gathered

in the cafeteria to consume starches. The surrounding roads disappeared

into dense woods, vanished under snowdrifts, and probably didn’t lead

anywhere anyway.

When Jeanine graduated high school at the precocious age of

sixteen and began attending the university, rather than finding it

stimulating she found it insufferably dull. But at least she was

away from her parents, and, after pursuing her studies with such

commendable diligence, she was now determined to spend her time in

pursuit of nearly life-threatening debauchery: to finally cave in to

her roaring lust, to shatter her disciplined mind with a dizzying

variety of controlled substances, to betray friends, to tear couples

apart in torrid trists, to…well, to really live.

This was a lot harder than she imagined; this was the

University of Montana. One of the most popular majors was agriculture,

and Jeanine soon concluded that the future farmers of America had

as much of a capacity for hedonism as the vegetables they harvested.

“You look at these torpid bastards and you get the sense that

all they fantasize about is planting row after row of goddam corn.

These are people whose livelihood depends on fertility, for chrissake,

but do you think that even suggests sexuality to them? Hell, no. I’d

like to run the fuckers over with their goddam tractors.”

Jeanine began buying stacks of pornographic magazines in

convenience stores, tearing out photographs of nude women, then

inserting these in library books in hopes of stimulating a massive

outbreak of libido.

But it didn’t work. In her first semester, Jeanine was asked

out once: to a country music festival benefitting farmers.

“The guy wears nothing but flannel. Imagining him in leather

is like imagining a cow riding a motorcycle.”

“You’re too young,” her friend Peggy assured her. “They’re

afraid of being charged with statutory rape, or something. Once you

get older you’ll get more action.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

“How many guys have asked you out this semester?”

Peggy was silent for a moment. “Well, everyone knows that

I’m looking for a husband, not a roll in the hay.”

“Bobby,” she turned to me, “How many girls have you asked

out this semester?”

“I’m too busy planting mental corn to bother with girls,” I

said. She shook her head disgustedly, then grabbed a copy of Penthouse

from her backpack and handed it to me.

I surmised the problem was that Jeanine came off as haughty. She

seemed to disdain all of the guys in school: men destined to spend a

substantial part of their lives shovelling manure, driving tractors.

Her arrogance, partly based on her stellar academic record, came

across as strongly as the Channel perfume she seemed to marinade

herself in. She reminded me of a slab of luminescent flesh yearning

to be ripped apart in someone’s teeth, but which everyone assumed was

lethally poisonous.

* * *

“Ted, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Bob, what’s up?”

I stepped closer to him, turning away discreetly, my gaze

settling on the window. Outside, snow swirled through the cone-shaped

orange beams of the parking lot floodlights.

“You know Jeanine?”

“Not really.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

He hesitated, as if somehow puzzled.

“Pretty what?”

“Pretty looking.”

“Well, sure.”

…End of the part1. To be continued..

up against my wife’s open, wet pussy.

With a deep lunge he was inside her and fucking hard and fast. He kept

up a furious pace as I watched his cock disappear inside my wife to

the hilt and then withdraw only to be plunged back in as deep and hard

as ever.

By this time the big man at Corina’s head had removed his cock from

her gasping mouth and was watching his buddy bang away. His hand toyed

listlessly with his swollen member and wiped it back and forth across

my wife’s face smearing his precum over her eyes, nose and mouth.

I knew that the smaller guy would not be able to keep up the pace that

he had set for himself for long. I was right. With a final deep

thrust, he buried his twitching cock into my wife’s body and with

involuntary jerks of his hips, discharged the contents of his balls

deep inside her

But, as I saw the spent, small man roll away from my wife’s body, I

knew somehow that they were not finished with her.

“Sit her down on my cock!” the big man said as he sat back with his

tool sticking about eight inches up in front of him.

His companion was exhausted from the aggressive use that he had made

of Corina’s body, but he was still more than willing to help out his

buddy. With the wiry muscles bulging in his arms he picked up my

wife’s still quaking frame and bodily lowered her down onto his

friend’s lap.

White fluid was forced from her abused vagina as she was penetrated

for a second time and I heard her moan deeply in her throat as she

sank lower and lower onto the big pole until her chocolate coloured

buttocks nestled against his course pubic hair. Her heaving breasts

were again covered by meaty hands as she was raised and then allowed

to drop, sinking the long, turgid cock into her depths.

The strength must then have begun to return to her limbs because she

began to move on her own. Up and down, up and down she rose and fell

in time to her assailant’s gasps of joy. Her eyes closed and her head

lolled back as she worked the cock inside her in expert fashion. From

my sitting position I had the perfect view of her rounded bottom as

she wriggled and twisted her way towards a second climax.

“Damn! This bitch is one hot little fucker!” the big man moaned as he

pushed his face into her sweaty cleavage and began to nibble and bit

at her swollen nipples.

“Oh, fuck me, baby. Fuck me!” Corina replied through her lustful gasps

and sighs. “Do it to me…fill me….make me cummmmmmm!”

And so for the second time in the space of a half hour my wife

climaxed at the hands of another man. Mentally I berated myself. My

own cock was still hard and throbbing and I knew that this was not how

I should be feeling. Nonetheless, the only thing on my mind at that

time was seeing my wife enjoying the intimate, almost brutal,

attentions of another man.

As her trembling body writhed and twisted away, the big man lifted her

up while he was still inside her and turned around so that she was

lying on her back on the floor. His hands grasped her thighs and

roughly spread her wide as he continued to plough her vaginal passage

with his throbbing meat. Corina gasped as he rammed deeply into her

body and then suddenly stopped. I could see the contorted expression

on his face and knew that he was about to cum.

“C’mon, honey!” Corina encouraged him, let’s have all that thick cum.

I wanna see it now!”

The big guy suddenly groaned out loud and withdrew from my wife’s

sloppy pussy, his spasming cock twitched wildly in his fist as it

stood poised over her. Another gasp and the long tool belched the

first stream of cum onto her dark mound. The first burst was quickly

followed by a second and then a third as the flood gates seemed to

open. His hand worked quickly up and down his shaft as he emptied his

gunge on my wife’s body. Her fingers went to her dilated hole and I

sat astounded as she began to mop up the liquid and use it to coat her

fingers, masturbating herself quickly towards yet another quivering

orgasm.

Despite my pleading with her, in the months subsequent to this event,

Corina would hardly speak to me. She had been deeply upset by the

experience, but not directly because of what had happened. She had

revealed her true self to me and said she couldn’t live with a man

that knew that she was such a slut. I argued that surely it was I that

should make such a decision, but she was adamant. She left me soon

afterwards.

I’ve had two other wives since Corina and I eventually divorced and,

to be honest, I’ve always longed to see them with other men. My second

wife cheated on me many times but, no matter how hard I tried, I could

never actually get to see her.

And now I’m married to Julia. She’s a great wife and a huge flirt. I

know that she’s been seeing somebody – I followed her once to his

house – but as soon as she went in they pulled the drapes!

So all I’m left with now is the memory of the beautiful Corina – but

what a memory that is!

simultaneously perform fellatio on the receiver (assuming the

receiver is male, of course). Depth of penetration is shallow to

medium, but the angle of insertion is “unnatural,” and this makes

for unusual sensations. The penis contacts the anal/vaginal wall

or prostate, as with the previous position.

There are at least two varieties of the sitting position. (1)

The inserter may sit in a chair or on a sofa, while the receiver

lowers him/herself down on the inserter’s lap, facing away. (2) The

inserter may lie down flat on his/her back and the receiver sits

down on him/her, again facing away. This is another good beginner

position, since the receiver controls depth of penetration.

The “T position” has the receiver lying flat on his/her back with

knees drawn up and perhaps a pillow or two under the lower back

for elevation. The inserter lies down underneath the the bent legs

of the receiver, but at a right angle. There may be a significant

difference in comfort for the receiver, depending on which side

insertion occurs. Depth of penetration is medium.

The face-to-face standing position requires practice and considerable

agility on the part of both partners. The receiver raises a leg to

waist level, which the inserter grasps and holds. This pulls forward

the buttocks and anus of the receiver, and makes insertion from

the front and underneath just barely possible. Shallow penetration

at a strange angle is probably the best that can be hoped for,

but that this is even possible is rather remarkable.

——————————————————————-

Val was pretty well soured on both sexes. Sure, you could have a good

time with playmates, but they seemed always to end up claiming property

rights. Wanting to own you. Enough of that shit! He decided that he’d

settle for his own company for the foreseeable future.

It helped that he had started a new and better job. A well-paying and

non-demanding job. A job that involved his ass, as it happened. He was

an underwear model.

Back in their happier days when they were (literally!) “into” each other,

Warren had put him in touch with a friend who ran a modeling agency. So

now Val was making a couple of thou a week just for parading his compact

underwear-clad butt in front of photographers and advertising execs. The

lights were hot, but the work was easy and the ambiance classy. And he

did have all the required talents: the ability to freeze a pose for an

extended period of time, and even more important, a tight, muscular set

of buns.

It was too good to last, of course. As his modeling career took off

(they raved about his butt), he got more bookings than he could handle.

The fame disease befell him. They began to call him the “Ass Man,” and

his face became as familiar to the public as his backside. He couldn’t

go out shopping without being surrounded by screaming fans holding out

copies of his notorious bare-ass “Slutboy” centerfold spread for him to

autograph. He couldn’t go for a walk in his own neighborhood without women

(and sometimes men) sneaking up behind him and pinching his butt. His mail

overflowed with offers of marriage and indecent proposals in exquisite

detail from all five sexes. He had no privacy. The whole world seemed

to want a piece of him . . . a piece of ass. His ass was under siege.

Soon enough, Val got tired of peddling ass. He retired. With what was left

of his earnings, he bought a remote mountain cabin far up in the Canadian

Rockies. With no phone or electricity, he isolated himself completely

from civilization. His only companions were a neurotic Persian cat and

a custom-made set of solar-powered dildoes.

——————————————————————-

THE BOOK OF ASSES

Part V

Preventive Maintenance

The care and feeding of one’s ass has a major effect on the health,

and consequently pleasure capacity of that wondrous organ.

A healthy and balanced diet promotes healthy bowel habits and

maintains the vigor of the large intestine and the muscle tone of

the sphincter. Avoid animal fats, which can lead to rectal cancer

and other debilitating ailments. Consume generous portions of

vegetables and foods containing fiber and “roughage” and you will

be amply rewarded by regular and satisfying bowel movements.

Regular exercise, especially walking, bicycling, and swimming,

contributes to a healthy state of the digestive system and helps

shape and tone the large muscles of the posterior. Kegel-type

exercises of the anal sphincter ring maintain the flexibility and

strength of that all-important gateway to ecstasy.

Cleanliness keeps the anus healthy. Clean thoroughly after each

bowel movement, and as necessary apply salve or ointment to treat

irritation and maintain the suppleness and pleasing appearance of

that entry to the chamber of delights.

Enemas can be a useful adjunct to anal pleasure. Those particularly

sensitive to fecal residue and odors may find it helpful to cleanse

the interior of the colon with a saline enema prior to anal play. Of

course, exercise due caution in administering enemas, both to one’s

self and to a partner.

——————————————————————-

As cut off from the world as Val was, a leading New York publishing house

had somehow gotten wind of his writings and tracked him down. Having

jeeped in over potholed dirt roads and iced-up mountain passes,

the publishing executive breathlessly explained that there was a

multi-million-dollar advance waiting if he would only sign a contract for

“The Book of Asses.” A vast audience was panting for alternate sexuality

and “orifice liberation” literature. Now if Val would just sign on the

dotted line . . .

He was mightily pissed at having his privacy invaded. “How the fuck did

you find me, and what makes you think I need your filthy luchre anyhow?”

The executive smiled . . . and dropped her pants. She had a perfect ass

. . . and wasn’t that a wicked-looking dildo harness girding her loins?

“After all, we *do* know your weaknesses, Val.”

“Doin’ OK, Mom,” I replied, trying to sound cool and collected

when I was anything but. “You like to play some tennis?”

“Love to,” she replied. “Now?”

“Sure, now.”

“OK,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked to a tall chest of

drawers and picked out a pair of small white cotton panties. I’d become

aware of what undergarments she wore for what occasions and white

cotton were for sports.

Her robe was clingy, hugging her body and buttocks. I was acutely

aware of her prominent nipples and the swell of her rounded mons as she

faced my direction. Then, glancing directly at me for a moment, she turned

away and, unbelting the robe, she stepped into the panties, pulling them up

firmly into her crotch, snapping the elastic. It took no more than brief

seconds, but time seemed to slow down and she moved in slow motion.

She was standing in front of a large, south-facing slider window,

and intensely back lit. The sheerness of her robe allowed the bright sun to

highlight her body silhouette and I could see her remarkably well through

the translucent robe. I gazed in rapt awe at the long-legged outline of her

figure, the shadow of a full breast swinging forward as she bent to step into

her panties. I thought of ripe fruit.

Suddenly it was very still in the room. I think I was holding my

breath. Was she really aware of me there? Did she know what I was

seeing? I knew her as too quick and too smart to be unaware of how she

looked. Were we slowly escalating to a new level of intimacy? And if so,

could I ever acknowledge it?

As she pulled the robe away from her body for a moment, I caught

no more than a flash of one rounded hip and thigh and it thrilled me. From

a lower drawer, she pulled out a pair of white tennis shorts and employing

the same visual screen of her robe, pulled them on, again pulling them tight

into her crotch. In my mind’s eye. I could see her puffy mons

In a moment, I became aware that my dick was swelling and caught

down the leg of my shorts, feeling bent and painful. Before she looked

back, I adjusted myself.

Now what? I knew she kept her bras and shirts in the same chest of

drawers. Would she select them and go into her closet, or even into her

bathroom to don them? I watched as she picked out a brief white cotton

bra and a white T-shirt. Again, she glanced at me, and then shrugging her

shoulders as if to say, “Oh, the heck with it,” she turned away, let her robe

drop to the floor where it pooled at her feet. She quickly put her bra on,

hooking it in the back with a nimble facility that comes as the result of long

practice. Magicians, I think, have the same facility.

I saw, perhaps as never before, how narrow her waist was and how

beautifully full her hips were under her long and delicately curved back. It

was more pronounced and exaggerated by all that flesh! It took but

seconds to don her bra, but it wasn’t quick enough, for I snapped a mental

picture of a back and side view of her full breast before it disappeared. Yet

another lurch in my groin. I was a goner.

She looked back. I smiled, wanting her to know that I had seen

her, but not wanting to act snide or smart ass. “Nice,” I said.

She returned the smile and turned toward me as she was pulling the

T-shirt over her head. Again, for a brief moment, I saw her en face,

appreciating how skimpy the bra was and how much of her breast simply

appeared to ride as much above of the cup as in it.

I don’t recall who won at tennis that day. What I do recall is the

moment of watching her bend over, nude under her robe, and lifting one

foot, place it into the leg hole of those white cotton panties. Later, looking

at the panty line under her shorts, I thought to myself, “I’ve *got* to see

more of her.”

…End of the part5. To be continued..

get on your knees, facing away from me. I’m going to fuck you from the

back.”

She gasped, “My ass?”

“That’ll be later, little girl,” giving her my oil-can Harry voice,

“Right now, I want to sink into your woman place, that sweet, hot girl

pussy, but from the back. Doggie position.”

Would my dignified mother submit to kneeling in front of me, ass in

the air, that I might fuck her like an animal?

As she was scrambling around she said over her shoulder, “God,

Billy. I love it doggie style. How’d you know?”

Kneeling just behind her, I looked down at her very narrow waist

and her beautiful ass and replied, “Didn’t. But I do now. You’re pussy

looks so sweet, pooched out that way between your legs.”

“Jesus, you’ve got a wonderfully dirty mouth.” Then she chuckled,

adding, “And I love it.”

She lowered her head to her crossed forearms, accenting the sway

of her back. With her ass pointing up, the cheeks of her buttocks opened

and I could see for the first time her ass hole. It was tan, slightly darker

than the surrounding skin, puckered and tight looking. I wondered if she’d

ever had Dad’s cock in her butt.

“You’re looking at my ass, aren’t you?” As if reading my mind, she

added, “I love anal sex but your father thinks its somehow dirty.”

“Susan, I’ve dreamed of this. Months . . . couple of years even.

And now we’re here. It’s one of those rare times when the realization is

greater than the expectation.”

“Don’t tease me, Billy. Touch me. I’m hungry for you.”

With the fingers of my right hand pointing down, I hooked my

thumb in her pussy and cupped her mons. I’d read of the so-called G-spot

and searched for it with my thumb. Almost instantly I was rewarded.

“Umph . . . yes! Right there! God, what you’re doing to me. I

can’t believe this.”

I rolled the pulp of my thumb over that slightly raised tissue under

her pubic bone as I fingered her clit on the outside. With my left hand, I

traced feather-light touches around the rim of her anus. The sphincter

tightened and then relaxed. I pushed the tip of my left index finger against

her anal opening, applying constant but gentle pressure.

“Oh, God. What are you doing? I can feel so many feelings but I

can’t tell where they’re coming from. You’re driving me ca-RAY-zy.”

Her hips were rolling and I had only to hold my right hand still to

allow her to set the rhythm and intensity. I continued to gently apply

pressure to her anal sphincter, occasionally bending down to drop a dollop

of spittle on her softening ass hole.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. “Do that. Do *everything*!”

As she rolled her pelvis, pushing butt back against me, my left index

finger slowly slipped into her ass up to the first and then the second joint

and finally all the way. Curving my finger forward in her rectum, I could

feel my thumb in her pussy through the thin wall of tissue separating those

two cavities. God, I couldn’t believe what was happening!

Her orgasmic song started again, initially deep in her chest and

raising to her throat, ending in a wail. Vocal restraint was not her strong

suite. For one who was normally so properly restrained, it clearly did not

extend to sexual passions and orgasms. I idly wondered if my neighbors

could hear her, and then dismissed it, not caring a whit if they did.

We both slumped to a pile of entangled limbs, she exhausted from

another orgasm and me . . . well just emotionally wiped out.

…End of the part16. To be continued..

“Suck it you little slut. I don’t want any more shit from you, just
suck me!”

I tightened my hold on her hair and pulled her head back a little
further so that her lips started to part, then shoved the head of my
cock into her mouth.

“Lick it! Use your tongue.”

Her tongue slid around the head as I penetrated deeper into her
mouth. I held it right at the entrance to her throat and let her
tongue explore the shaft. I eased up and let her sit up a little
higher. She put her arms up over my legs and took my cock from my hand
and started suck on it in earnest. I leaned back, put both of my hands
on the back of her head and started to enjoy the ride. At first I
would use my hands to pull her head downward while I shoved my dick
into her mouth. Soon however, she no longer needed any
“encouragement” from me. Her tongue was doing wonders as she slowly
slid my prick in and out of her mouth. I moaned for her to take it
deeper. She tried but was unable to get it down her throat with out
gagging. I gently pulled her head back and told her to relax. I pushed
the head of my cock on the entrance of her throat and felt it slide
in. She gagged a little but was able to take it all the way down. Once
she mastered this skill she fell into a rhythm where she would swallow
my cock all the way to the hilt, sloooowly withdraw it while running
her tongue up the underside until just the head was wrapped in her
lips. Then she would french kiss the head while she looked up at me
with her soft, brown eyes then start again.

Each of these loving strokes was bringing me closer and closer to
the edge. She was holding me in her mouth, her tongue sliding over my
cockhead and her hand stroking my shaft when she raised up her eyes
and stared deeply into mine. That did it. As she looked up at me I
felt myself reach the point of no-return and the cum started to boil
up out of my balls. She was right at the very tip of an upstroke and I
decided that now was the time to fulfill the final part of the fantasy
that I had always had about Kim. I pulled back on her hair so her face
was upturned and about a foot away from my dick. I grabbed my cock
with my other hand, aimed it at her face and gave it one hard stroke
as the cum erupted from the head. The first blast landed in her hair
near the top of her forehead and trailed down her face across the
bridge of her nose. I corrected my aim and gave another stroke and
this time I was dead on target, splashing cum across her half open
mouth and covering her pouty little lips. Her face was still
registering a look of both shock and lust as I pulled on my cock again
and sent another blast onto her mouth and cheek. By now I was pretty
much spent. I dropped my cock onto her lips and she began to lick off
the few remaining squirts that were still flowing out. Much to my
amazement I had to actually tell her to stop licking and sucking on my
dick once it became too sensitive to touch. She amazed me even more by
licking the cum off of her lips and from around her mouth. She had
come a long way in a few minutes from thinking that the whole idea was
“gross” to greedily licking up every drop of cum that she could reach.

I was spent for the moment but when I looked down and saw Kim’s
face smiling up at me with globs of cum decorating her face and hair I
could feel the familiar stirrings in my balls and knew that I wouldn’t
be that way for long. I motioned for her to get up and told her to lay
down on the couch. She lay down with her head on a pillow at one end
and her feet in my lap. I put one leg on the floor and the other up
over the back of the couch. Her legs now spread wide before me I began
to probe her pussy once again. I did it slowly and gently pulling my
fingers out to lightly rub her swollen lips, covering them with a
slick film of pussy juice. I purposely avoided her clit since my aim
was to tease, not satisfy.

“You’ve been a very good little slut so far Kim. But there are
still a few more things we are going to do tonight. Do you like being
my slut?”

“Yesss.”

“I’m going to treat you like the little whore that you have always
wanted to be. Do you want that? Do you want me to treat you like a
whore?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, treat me like a whore. Make me suck your cock. Put it in my
mouth again.”

“Does sucking my cock make you horny? Do you want me to make you
cum?”

“Yes. Yes. Play with my pussy some more. Please, put your fingers
in my cunt”

I withdrew my finger from her pussy and she let out a low moan of
frustration.

“Please don’t stop again. I’ll do what ever you say”

“I want you do play with yourself Kim. I want you to show me how you
rub your pussy while you think about sucking a cock. All sluts play
with themselves Kim. Rub it! Rub your pussy for me.”

She hesitated again but I grabbed her hand and pulled it down
between her legs. That was all the encouragement she needed now. She
spread her legs even wider as her hand slid up and down her pussy, her
fingers lingering at the top of every stroke to massage her clit. Her
head lay back against the arm of the couch her eyes closed as her
fingers brought her closer to orgasm. I was almost hard again and
still as horny as ever so I began to stroke myself while I watched Kim
do the same.

“Tell me how you want to suck my cock.”

“I want to suck it so bad Dave, please give it to me again.”

“Tell me more. Tell me everything”

“I want you to put it in my mouth. Shove it all the way down my
throat. I want to hold it in my had as I lick it all over. I want to
lick your head when you cum and have you shoot your load in my mouth.
Unggh. Eat your cum, I want to eat your cum.”

She was starting to become incoherent as she came closer to orgasm,
her sentences punctuated by gasps and moans. I was now rock hard again
and ready for the final event of the evening. I grabbed her hand and
pulled it away from her pussy which was now literally dripping. I was
wondering how she was going to explain the big spot on the sofa to her
roommate. I wasn’t sure if pussy stains were permanent but I was sure
that Kim was going to have to pull out the bucket and scrub brush
tomorrow morning. She wasn’t really keen on stopping yet again and
tried to resist. I grabbed both her hands and pinned them up next to
her head on the edge of the couch and laided on top of her. I brought
my face close to her’s, look deep into her eyes and said,

“I’m going to fuck you now Kim. I’m going to fuck you good and hard.
I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I met you and you’ve needed a good
hard screw for a long time.”

This time there was no apprehension or fear in her face, just pure
animal lust. She was in heat and needed to be satisfied. She was still
a virgin, her “born-again” morals (now long gone) had kept her from
doing it with any of the other guys that she had dated. I had felt her
hymen while my fingers were in her pussy but she was now so wet and
turned on that it wasn’t going to be a problem. I let go of one of her
hands to reach down and position myself at the entrance to paradise. I
brought my face down to her’s, started a long hot kiss and drove it
home. I felt her body jerk as I broke through and my cock penetrated
about half way in to her virgin pussy. I thrust again and went deeper.
And again, still deeper. I broke the kiss and and Kim began to gasp. I
thrust again and penetrated almost to the hilt. Kim’s pussy was like a
vise. It’s walls grasped at my cock like it had a mind of it’s own. I
picked up the rhythm, pounding my cock deep inside her. I still had
her hands pinned above her head so she couldn’t move. She was moaning
loudly now and her body started to writhe beneath me. I could feel her
muscles tense up and her hips moved upward to meet my every thrust.
Her pussy clenched my cock as she began to cum. A loud scream erupted
from her lips and her back arched as I slammed my cock into her one
last time and held it there, deep inside. Again she screamed and
twisted as her orgasm raged through her body. She bucked her hips
again and again and at last began to relax, her body melting under
mine. I was glad that I had already cum once that night because under
normal circumstances I would have shot my wad a long time ago.

I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable on the couch so I
withdrew and ordered Kim onto the floor. She was still slightly dazed
from the force of her orgasm but looked like she was ready for some
more. She rolled off the couch and lay on the floor, her legs spread
and knees up in the air waiting for me to enter.

“No. on your knees!”

She looked puzzled but complied, standing on her knees in front of
me.

“Turn around and bend over. Get on all fours like a doggie”

She still seemed confused but she had always been rather naive
where sex was concerned and probably didn’t even realize there was a
doggie-style position. She figured it out fast enough as I knelt
behind her and slammed my cock into pussy. She gasped as I penetrated
all the way to the hilt. While I was on top of her I was never able to
get it quite all the way in but now, taking her from behind, I was
able to embed the whole length (which is seven inches in case you are
curious). I grabbed her hips and really started to go to town. When
my hips slapped against her ass it sounded like rifle shots. I could
feel myself building to another orgasm so I slowed down to make it
last a little longer. Grabbing her hair, I pulled her up to a kneeling
position. Her breath was again coming in gasps and low moans escaped
her throat. I slowed the tempo and grabbed roughly at her tits. My
hands pinched her nipples and kneeded those beautiful mounds of flesh
as my mouth nibbled on her earlobes and neck.

Despite slowing down, my orgasm was rapidly approaching. I pushed
her back on all fours and again began to pound my dick deep inside
her. Her moans became louder and suddenly she went rigid, threw her
head back and screamed as another orgasm took hold. Her knuckles went
white as she grabbed the throw rug and she thrust her ass back into my
hips. Feeling her pussy convulsivly clasp my cock finally sent me
over the precipice. I let loose a guttural moan and gave her two more
hard strokes when I felt the cum begin to rise up through my cock. I
pulled out and stroked my cock with my hand. It began to spurt and
several shots of cum landed on Kim’s back and ass. Spent, I dropped my
cock into her ass and let the final dribbles leak out into the crack.
My knees were now weak and I collapsed on top of her, pulling her to
the floor with me.

Her breathing slowed and she spoke to me,

“You’re not going to leave me now are you?”

This had probably been the single best sexual encounter I had ever
had and my mind was churning with the endless opportunities now
available to me. I pulled her closer and whispered,

“No. I’ll never leave you just as long as you are a good little girl
and do everything I say.”

She sighed and we both drifted off to sleep, entwined on the carpet.

–

At the time of this story my Dena was 29 years old, about 5′ 5″
with stylish blond hair. She’s trim and without doubt her face and
ass are her best assets. She is a former state beauty pageant
winner and her features are smooth and defined, like her
personality. She’s a knock out in a bikini and enjoys the attention
she gets form other men.

We had heard of men who encourage and enjoy watching their spouse
have sex with other men. We were fascinated and aroused by reading
such stories in magazines about swinging and mate sharing and I
often fantasized about seeing my wife screw another man. Dena and
I had talked about a threesome but I never really thought it would
happen. That was until four years ago.

Shortly after accepting a new sales position that required
extensive travel I began to suspect Dena of having an affair. The
idea of her falling in love with another man didn’t enter into my
thoughts but I was convinced that she was seeing someone. I
secretly hoped my suspicions were true and often made excuses that
I had to stay out of town overnight when it wasn’t really required.

Many times I would lay awake fantasizing about Dena with another
man as I lay alone in my motel room. I imagined her rushing off to
meet her lover as soon as our nightly phone conversation ended. On
several occasions I waited ten or fifteen minutes and called home
again only to hear up to five minutes of unanswered ringing. I
would do this every half hour or so until around one or two in the
morning she would answer the phone. I always hung up without saying
anything. I never told Dena that I had called back and she never
said anything about going out anywhere.

This behavior continued for about two or three weeks and just when
I had made plans to try and catch her she started answering each
time I called home. Dena began to complain that someone was calling
and hanging up the phone when she answered so I waited much longer
between calls.

I became disappointed because now it seemed that my suspicions were
unfounded or the affair had ended. I began fantasizing about ways
of having her seduced when another set of events began occurring.

I was at our local club having a drink at the bar when a neighbor
I knew only slightly came in and took the stool next to mine. Our
conversation was casual but he asked a question that caused me to
rethink my doubts about Dena and a possible affair.

During our conversation our neighbor asked how I liked my new car.
At first I thought he was talking about my new company car which is
a Buick. I told him that I really liked the car and that I was very
satisfied with the gas milage. It wasn’t until he said how he too
would like to have such a car but that he certainly couldn’t afford
anything so expensive. I knew a Buick was well within his means so
he A) Had me confused with someone else. Or B) Someone driving an
expensive automobile was visiting my house.

Without acting surprised I told my neighbor that I had gotten a
very good deal and that it really hadn’t cost as much as he might
think. This seemed to satisfy him and our conversation moved to
other subjects, although I’m not sure what we talked about because
I was thinking about the strange automobile parking in my drive. I
revived my plans to see if Dena was having an affair.

The following Monday I told Dena that my duties would require me to
be out of town until Friday night. As always she seemed
disappointed but accepted that it had to be. I on the other hand
imagined that she was already preparing to invite her lover into
our bed.

I drove to a local hotel and checked in for four nights. I parked
my car in the hotel’s indoor lot so it couldn’t be easily seen. I
then called Avis and rented a completely different car making sure
it was of a completely different color.

I made the necessary business phone calls from my hotel room but
remained in the room and out of view until darkness. Around 7pm I
called home as I had always done when away. After my brief
conversation with Dena I called room service for dinner and watched
TV. By 9pm I had waited as long as I could.

Driving the rental car past my house I was mildly disappointed to
see only the normal house lights and only Dena’s car in our drive.
I drove around town until I made another pass by our house around
9:30pm. Even more disappointment when I saw only Dena’s car in our
drive. I continued to drive around until I made a third pass by the
house around 9:45pm. Nothing had changed and I was now really
disappointed. I wanted to catch my wife with another man but it
seemed it wouldn’t happen tonight.

I had driven about half way down one of the two main entrance roads
leading to our subdivision when a 530 Mersadies sports car passed
going in the direction of my house. I quickly took the next turn
and turned my car around. The Mersadies tail lights were still
visible and about a quarter of a mile ahead. I closed the distance
between us slightly but made sure to remain well back.

My heart was racing and I was wondering. Was this the car my
neighbor had been talking about? The Merrsadies made a left turn
onto the street our house was on. This had to be the car that had
been parking in my drive I thought. “Please be the car.” I said
aloud to myself. I passed the street leading to my house knowing
that I could see our drive clearly only a few hundred yards ahead.

As I slowed and looked in the direction of my house I saw the
Mersadies head lights as it pulled into my drive. I almost shouted
knowing this had to be my wife’s lover. I turned my car into the
street that ran behind our house. Knowing the house directly behind
ours was vacant I pulled into the drive and killed the lights.

I waited a few minutes then got out of the rental and keeping to
the shadows I slowly jogged into my back yard. Remaining in the
shadows I approached the side of my house and made my way to the
den window. I knew there was little chance that I would be seen but
I had worn dark clothing and was being a quite as possible as I
looked into the window.

There on my sofa sat a man of about 45 years I had never seen. He
was certainly well dressed and clean looking. “So this was Dena’s
lover and I approve.” I thought to myself. Then found myself
wondering how large his cock was and did Dena give this man head as
she had often done for me. If she did give him head did she allow
him to cum in her mouth or did they only fuck straight? Did they
use protection? I hoped they didn’t. For some reason I hoped he
would cum inside Dena.

Dena entered the den carrying drinks. She handed her friend a glass
and sat down beside him. Before taking a drink both my wife and her
friend placed their drinks on the sofa table and locked themselves
in a very passionate embrace. As the kissed I noticed this man was
unbuttoning Dena’s blouse. Dena’s hand was on his crotch and I knew
she was massaging his cock and balls. “I hope he’s hung like a
horse.” I thought.

My own cock was rock hard as I watched the couple before me undress
each other. When the gentleman stood Dena unbuckled his belt. She
unzipped his trousers and tugged them down. As this man stood
before my wife his trousers fell around his ankles as Dena pulled
his jockey shorts down.

I couldn’t see the man’s cock because he was quarter turned away
from me but I could clearly see Dena had his cock in her mouth.
Dena’s hands were slowly stroking this man’s ass and upper legs as
she took him into her mouth. This continued for about a minute when
Dena’s lover turned to sit down on the sofa.

Dena released her mouth hold on his cock and as the man sat down
she got on her knees before him. Clearly she planned to continue
sucking his cock. It was at this time that I saw the man’s cock for
the first time. It was much larger than my seven and one half
inches. I would guess at least 10 or 11 inches in length and very
thick. It was so thick that the head of his cock seemed small.
Almost as if it belonged to a 7 inch cock but was attached to this
massive sausage.

Dena took this stranger’s cock in both hands and began jacking it
as she took as much as she could in her mouth. To me Dena looked
beautiful as she knelt before the man sucking his monster tool. I
was slowly massaging my own cock through my trousers as I hoped
they would continue until he shot his load in Dena’s mouth.

Within a few minutes I had my wish. The man laid his head back and
closed his eyes. I knew he was about to cum and so did Dena. She
was jacking his cock faster now and sucking him as deep as she
could. The man stiffened and Dena slowed her hand and head motion.
I knew he was shooting his load into my wife’s mouth and she
appeared to love it. “Please swallow his cum.” I was thinking as I
shot my own load into my shorts.

Dena did as I had hoped because when the man had finished climaxing
she got up to sit beside him. She said something to him and they
both laughed and took a sip of their drinks. There was no trace of
cum on Dena’s face so I knew she had done as I had hoped and had
swallowed his load. I hoped his cum had been thick and plentiful
but I had no way of knowing.

Dena and her lover sat on the sofa talking, kissing and fondling
each other until I saw the man’s cock begin to come alive again.
Dena bent over a sucked his cock until it was fully erect again
then she stood up. Although her blouse and bra had been removed
earlier she now let her skirt fall to the floor and removed her
bikini panties.

The man pulled my wife to him and began to eat her pussy as she
stood wide legged before him. I sure he couldn’t get to her pussy
very well and he said something to her. Dena laid back on the sofa
and with one foot on the floor and one on the back of the sofa she
offered herself to her lover.

I watched as the man began to eat my wife and slowly jack his own
cock. Since my cock had remained hard the entire time I unzipped my
trousers, now very wet from the load I had shot earlier. Taking my
cock out I began to jack off as I watched the scene before me.

The man continued to eat Dena pussy until I could tell she was
about to cum. He then made his way on top of her and I could
clearly see his cock as it entered Dena’s now very wet pussy. At
first he pushed only the head and perhaps two inches in. Dena’s ass
was moving up to him, urging him deeper into her. The man was
fucking her with only a few inches of his cock when he suddenly
plunged his entire cock into my wife. His balls, again much larger
than mine, slapped against Dena’s ass as he began to fuck her
harder.

Even above the air-conditioning and through closed windows I could
hear Dena. “Oh God! Oh God! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh God Fuck
me!” I felt my balls tighten and my own cum began to shoot as I
watched the couple before me. It was truly beautiful watching my
wife enjoy being power fucked by this stranger. I wanted them to
continue but the man’s body stiffened and he pushed himself as deep
as he could into Dena. I knew he was depositing another load in
places much deeper that I ever had.

It was clear that Dena was enjoying being fucked by this man
because she was having one orgasism after the other. I saw their
combined juices, thick and white, on the shaft of the man’s cock as
he fucked in-an-out. It was slowly running out of Dena’s pussy and
down her ass. So that’s what those stains were on the sofa. I
continued to jack myself as the lovers continued to fuck each other
on the sofa.

I must have jacked myself as they fucked for five minutes or more
when the man’s body stiffened again. Plunging himself deep into
Dena’s pussy he began to shoot another hot load of his semen. I too
shot another load and gave a silent prayer of thanks for allowing
me to witness my wife being so thoroughly fucked.

— | 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! ]

–

Benny was inconsolable. As he thought about it, he recalled
that, except for that first meeting, the genie had never mentioned a word
about not shaving. Besides, now that Benny had everything he wanted, he
could keep the genie in the lamp and it would never know that he’d shaved.
So, he got out a razor, ran some hot water, lathered up, and shaved. While
he was at it, he felt a bit apprehensive, but nothing seemed to be happening,
so he went ahead. Just as he zipped off the last whisker, a lightning bolt
shot out of the clear blue sky, burst through the roof of his penthouse,
struck him dead center, and burned him to ashes. The genie then issued forth
from the lamp, wearing an apron and carrying a little dustpan and a wiskbroom.
It swept up the ashes, deposited them in a mauve and puce urn of indescribably
ugliness, sealed it, and flew off to Damascus to deposit out poor hero in
his final resting place.

Which just goes to show that, a Benny shaved is a Benny urned.

[Father Goose #37]

Roy Rogers gets a new pair of boots, but a mountain lion eats the
boots. To get even, Roy chases (insert colorful description as needed) and
kills (after long fight – to be described in vivid detail) the lion, and
returns carrying the lion back to camp. When he returns, Dale Evans
exclaims, “Pardon me, Roy, is that the cat that ate your new shoes.”

[Father Goose #38]

There was once an agricultural extension of a community college that
was into growing big fruit. Now we’re really talking big fruit here:
they grew blueberries the size of oranges and strawberries the size of
grapefruits. Not only were they big, but they were also the sweetest,
juiciest, most luscious fruit you’ve ever tasted. Realizing the
commercial value of such fruit, before attempting large scale
cultivation, they decided to insure these fruit. But in order to get
something insured, you need to have it valued for insurance purposes.
What do academics know about insurance anyway? So they look in the
phone book, and call the first entry: the Acme Insurance Valuation
Service. These two guys show up and they are pretty shady looking
characters; they’re not wearing lab coats, they’re wearing
trenchcoats! The guys from Acme pick up the fruit and start walking
out with it. The scientists are surprised and incensed, and ask “Are
you going to value them here, or give us a receipt, or what?” The two
guys from Acme reply “We have come to seize your berries, not to
appraise them.”

[Father Goose #39]

Hans and Gretchen were walking along the shore one Sunday afternoon when
they spotted a dock projecting into the harbour. They decide to walk
to the end of the dock and sit down to rest (chat, have a smoke or
whatever).

Gretchen, in her infinite boredom, suggests to Hans, “While we walk
to the end of the dock, why don’t you count the number of slats used
to build it, and I’ll count the number of slits between the slats?”

Hans replies, “Ja, sehr gut, I will count the slats, and you will
count the slits.”

So the couple merrily troops down the dock. Hans counts, “One
slat!”

Gretchen counts, “One slit!”
“Two slats!”
“Two slits!”

And, well, you know how the natural numbers work. Eventually Hans and
Gretchen approach the end of the dock.

“327 slats!”
“327 slits!”
“328 slats!”
They reach the end of the dock. Gretchen is puzzled.

“Hans! There are no more slits! What does it mean?”

Hans turns to Gretchen and says (brace yourselves),

“When you’re out of slits, you’re out of pier!”

[Father Goose #?]

Once upon a time, these two women were talking and the one asks the other how
many times she’s been married, and the reply was 4. ‘Four times!’ exclaimed
the first girl, why so many?

So the other girl said:
‘Well, I first got married when I was very young, and I married this
wonderful man who was a banker. However, one day just a few weeks after
we were married, his bank was robbed and he was shot and killed.’

‘Oh my gosh, that’s terrible’ the first girl said.
‘Well, it wasn’t that tragic. Soon after that, I started seeing another
man who performed in the circus. He was really a great guy, but he lived
pretty dangerously because he performed his high-wire act without a net.
Well, a few weeks after we got married, he was performing a show and
suddenly a gust of wind came by and knocked him off his wire and he was
killed.’

‘Your second husband was killed too?!!? That’s horrible!’
‘Yes, it was terrible, but at the funeral I fell in love with the minister
and we got married soon after that. Unfortunately, one Sunday while he
was walking to church, he was hit by a car and killed.’

‘Three??? Three husbands of yours were killed? How could you live through
all that?’
‘It was pretty tough, but then I met my present husband. And he’s a
wonderful man. I think we’ll live a long happy life together.’

‘And what does your present husband do for a living?’
‘He’s a mortician.’

‘A mortician? I don’t understand something here. First you marry a banker,
then a circus performer, then a minister, and now a mortician? Why such a
diverse grouping of husbands?’

‘Well, if you think about it it’s not too hard to understand…

One for the money…
Two for the show…
Three to get ready…
And four to go!’

[Father Goose #40]

Once upon a time, in a far-off land, there was a kingdom
in which the king was fond of history and ancient things.
He would collect historical objects, dress in royal threads
from bygone eras, and generally try to live ancient traditions.

One day the king issued a royal proclamation, as kings are
wont to do now and then. Of course, he wrote the proclamation
in the language of 200 years ago, rich in antiquated spellings,
obsolete words, now-defunct verb forms, etc.

The general population, of course, could make neither head nor
tail of the proclamation. A vast legal muddle ensued. The
courts, called upon to untangle the mess, pronounced a ruling
that, henceforth, all royal proclamations must be written in
modern, currently accepted prose. In other words,

We can’t have archaic and edict, too.

[Father Goose #41]
…End of the part7. To be continued..

After several days, lo and behold, a foo bird flies directly over the river.

In a rush of excitement, the photographer rushes out of the blind and snaps off
a shot. No sooner has he done this then a huge, evil smelling flock of foos
congregate over his head and completely cover him in guano.

The slimy stuff starts to harden and restrict his breathing. He frantically
tries to get the stuff off but to no avail. Finally in desperation, he throws
himself into the river. A large crocodile promptly eats him.

The moral?
It the foo shits, wear it.

[Father Goose #7]

It seems that Mary Poppins has moved to California. Yep,
she has started a business telling people’s fortunes. But, she
doesn’t read palms or tea leaves, she smells one’s breath.
That, right, the sign outside reads:

Super California Mystic
Expert Halitosis

[Father Goose #8]

Our Hero was travelling through the mountains on his quest for the Holy
Grail, when a fierce storm blew up and his steed caught some horsey sickness.
He hied to a monastary, and asked the abbot for a replacement, citing
their loyalty to God. It was the winter season, and nightfall was
approaching as they looked through the stables. All of the other horses
were sneezing a coughing also, until they came to a stable, where a large
shaggy dog story(oops) resided. The knight asked for him, to which the
abbot replied, “Oh, no, it is still stormy and getting dark.
I wouldn’t send a knight out on a dog like this.”

[Father Goose #9]

An international chess tournament is being held in a swank
hotel in New York. Everyone who is anyone in the world of
chess is there. After a grueling 4 hours of chess, the
players and their entourages retire to the lobby of the hotel for
a little refreshment.

In the lobby, the players get into a big argument about who
is the brightest, the fastest, and the best chess player.
The argument gets loud, each player claiming that he is
the greatest chess player of all time.

One security guard in the lobby turns to the other and says:

If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s
chess nuts boasting in an open foyer.

[Father Goose #10]

Buster Crab and Sam Clam were the best of friends for years, and every
evening one could find Buster in Sam’s bar down by the beach. Finally,
Buster passed on and went to heaven. There, he was a model citizen, but
he longed for the companionship of his pal, Sam. So the next Christmas,
Buster was approached by God who asked him why he wasn’t happy. Buster
explained that although heaven was a pretty nice place and the halo and
wings were real swell, he missed Sam and wished he could go back and spend
just one more night in his bar by the beach. God recalled how good Buster
had been, and told him that he could spend New Year’s with Sam in his bar.
“However,” God cautioned, “things have changed since you were there last.
In order to keep up with the times, Sam has converted his place to a disco.
Still, if you wish, you may spend New Year’s eve with your old buddy, but be
sure not to drink and take good care of your wings, harp and halo.” Buster
was ecstatic and spend the next week practicing his chops on the harp and
polishing his halo. Then the big eveing arrived and poof! there he was
beside Sam in his disco. Well, they had a great time talking of old times
and dancing and singing and playing. After a while, the temptation to have a
drink proved too great for Buster, and he imbibed. So did the rest of the
party and the night got progressively wilder until morning found everyone
sleeping it off on the furniture and floors of the disco. His time up,
Buster was transported poof! back to heaven. God saw him, bleary eyed, halo
dented and slipping off to one side, wings in disarray, and well, you get the
picture. God gives him an ice bag and asks what happened. “Buster! You’ve
been at the bottle, haven’t you? Look at you wings! Look at that halo! And
where is you golden harp?” To which Buster replies,
“I left my harp in Sam Clam’s Disco.”
(better sung)

[Father Goose #11]

Isaac Asimov did this one best; the story concerns a man, Mr. Stein,
who robs a bank, jumps into a time machine, and re-emerges seven
years later (after the statute of limitations has expired). They
arrest him anyway, but the judge’s verdict is
“A niche in time saves Stein.”

[Father Goose #12]

Once upon a time, in Days of Yore, which is located in a rather
backwoods area of the country, there lived a remarkably innocent
young man named Nathaniel. Now Nathaniel, or Nate, as he was
often called, one day came of age, and his oppressive and none too
dutiful legal guardians just turned him out into the street, as it
were. Before giving him the boot, however, they did take the
trouble to inform him that he was, in fact, the heir to what was
locally considered a sizable fortune in rural real estate. This
comparatively immense farm tract was being held for him and currently
managed by a man who turned out to be a rather distant cousin, but
who was kindly and surprisingly helpful, eventually doing most of
what needed to be done to start Nate out in business on the farm.
Very shortly afterward, however, the cousin died, leaving Nate alone
with little experience and very few ideas. Poor Nate was absolutely
in a quandary as to what sort of reliable cash crop to plant on his
land. He had heard that one or two of his neighbors were raising
a certain (shall we say) “herb”, whose production was said to be
uncommonly lucrative. Our hero wasn’t really into haute cuisine,
though, so in search of an expert opinion, he consulted a local
soothsayer, an elderly woman whose character was completely beyond
question, if you follow my meaning. At the urging afforded by
about a third of Nate’s annual income, she gazed vacantly into
her crystal ball for most of an hour, until she finally intoned,

SOW ROPE, NATEY-O!
[A pun on "No Soap, Radio", which is also pretty obscure.]

[Father Goose #13]

There was this person who owned a bluish coloured volvo. It was a
‘72, however, making it quite old and even volvos don’t last forever.
When he was driving home one afternoon and the engine fell through the
engine mount, his wife brought up the subject of buying a new car.
“Well, I’ve really grown partial to this car, dear.”
“But, honey, that car is going to fall apart any minute.”
The argument went on for a while and the husband finally agreed that he
would buy a new car, but he would only buy another bluish coloured volvo.
It had to have the exact shade of blue or he wasn’t interested. And so,
his quest began.
“Nope. Areyou sure they’re made in that colour?” asked all the volvo dealers
in New York. He went to Connecticut and received the same line. He went to
Rhode Island, only to hear “Nope. Had one last week. Couldn’t sell it, so we
gave it to a junk dealer.” The man ran to the junk dealer just in time to
see the car of his dreams crushed.
He travelled through Vermont. “Nope. Can’t get one here.” He tried New
Hampshire. “I don’t think they make them.” He went into Maine. “I don’t
have one, but Charlie might. He’s the volvo dealer up in Caribou.”
Anyone ever told you about Caribou, Maine? It is freezing up there. It
is in the middle of nowhere. Now, at this point, a large storm system
was moving into the area and the husband was trapped in the storm.
Two days later the dealer arrived at his shop and found this guy standing
by the door. When the dealer opened the door the husband saw it. Right in the
middle of the showroom was his bluish coloured volvo. Perfect! He told
the man of his quest, gave him the money, and was about to leave when the
dealer asked “Why did you spend so much time searching for this coloured
…End of the part2. To be continued..

First Woman: “This is very embarrassing, but every time I sneeze, I
have an orgasm.”
Second Woman: “You poor dear! Are you taking anything for that?”
First Woman: “Snuff.”

————

What’s the definition of the perfect woman?
1) She’s three feet tall, has a round hole for a mouth
and her head is flat so you can put cocktails on it.
2) The sports model has pull-back ears and her teeth fold in.
3) The economy model – she fucks all night and at midnight
she turns into a roast beef sandwich and a six pack.

————

Three old ladies were sitting on a park bench when a flasher walked up
to them and displayed his endowments. The first old lady had a stroke,
the second old lady had a stroke, but the third old lady’s arms were too
short to reach.

————

This guy walks into a bar, walks up to the bartender and
says, “I’d like a scotch and soda and I’d like to buy that
douche bag at the end of the bar a drink.” The bartender
says, “Hey, she’s a regular and you can’t be talking about
her that way.” The guy says, “Okay, I’d like to buy that
nice, young lady at the end of the bar a drink.” The
bartender says, “That’s more like it,” and he walks up to
the girl and asks her what she wants to drink. She says,
“Vinegar and water.”

————

A man meets up with an old roomate whom he has not seen for many years.
The roomate has had a sex-change operation. “Was it painful?”, asks the former.
“No, not really” says the second. “How about when they cut off your dick?”
“No that really wasn’t the worst of it.” “Really?” says the first. “How
about when they had to create the new hole? That must have been painful.”
“No the worst part was when they stuck the straw in my ear and sucked out half
my brains.”

————–

Why did God give women nipples?
To make suckers out of men.

Why did the Detroit Lions hire two nuns and a prostiture for the new season?
Because they needed two tight ends and a wide receiver.

Why are clams like women?
When the red tide comes, you don’t eat them.

How does a man know when he’s eaten pussy well?
When he wakes up in the morning and his face looks like a
glazed doughnut.

Did you hear about the new video game for women only, called Dick-Man?
You put a quarter in and get fucked.

I’ve got a joke so funny it’ll make your breast fall off:
Oh…I see you’ve already heard it.

What do you call a virgin on a waterbed?
A cherry float.

What do you do when your Kotex catches fire?
Throw it on the floor and tampon it.

What’s 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1?
Bo Derek getting older.

Did you hear about the new douche powder made of alum, LSD, and Kentucky
Fried Chicken batter?
It’s uptight, outasight, and finger-lickin’ good.

What’s the difference between a light bulb and a pregnant woman?
You can unscrew a light bulb.

What do fat girls and mopeds have in common?
They’re both fun to ride until a friend see you.

Why are women giving up bowling for screwing?
The balls are lighter and you don’t have to change your shoes.

What’s the difference between a job and a wife?
After five years, the job still sucks.

How do you make paper dolls?
Screw an old bag.

What’s the white stuff you find in women’s panties?
Clitty litter.

Bumber sticker: Support E.R.A. – make him sleep on the wet spot.

What do you call a rehabilitation home for ex-prostitutes?
An all-the-way house.

Definition of a wife: “An attachment you screw on the bed to get the
housework done.”

How are an oven and a woman alike?
You have to get them both hot before you can stick the meat in.

Remember what’s worse than getting raped by Jack the Ripper? (Getting
fingered by Captain Hook.) Well, you know what’s worse than that?
Getting eaten out by Jaws.

What’s the purpose of a bellybutton?
To put your gum in on the way down.

Why was the stamp commemorating prostitution so unpopular?
You had to pay an extra ten cents to lick it.

What’s the difference between a hormone and an enzyme?
You can’t hear an enzyme.

How do you make a hormone?
Put sand in the Vaseline.

What’s a cunt that talks back?
An answering cervix.

What do you give an eighty-year-old woman for her birthday?
Mikey … He’ll eat anything.

What do you call a woman who uses too much contraceptive cream?
A spermicidal maniac.

Why do women have legs?
So they don’t leave snail tracks on linoleum floors.

What do you call a hooker with no legs?
A nightcrawler.

What do you call a girl who’s just been run over by a car?
Patty.

Why do female parachutists always wear pantyhose?
So they won’t whistle.

How do you tell when a woman is wearing pantyhose?
If she farts, her ankles will swell.
…End of the part1. 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.”

–

——————

Banana Loaf
———–

2 laughing eyes
2 bowing arms
2 well-shaped legs
2 firm milk containers
1 fur-lined mixing bowl
1 banana

Look into laughing eyes, spread well-shaped legs and slowly squeeze and
massage milk containers gently until mixing bowl is well greased. Check
frequently with middle finger. Add banana and gently work in and out until
creamed. Cover with nuts and garnish with a sigh of relief. Bread is
done when banana is soft. Be sure to wash mixing utensils and do not lick
the bowl.

WARNING: If bread rises, LEAVE TOWN !!!!!!!!

——————–

What do you call a woman who has lost her mind?
A widow.

Why do women have tits?
So men will talk to them.

Why do women have periods?
Because they deserve them.

Why is a woman better than a sheep?
Sheep can’t cook.

Why does a woman have one more brain cell than a cow?
so she doesn’t shit on the floor when she does the dishes.

What is the definition of “Male Chauvinist Pig?”
A man who hates every bone in a woman’s body–except his own.

——————–

Joe: I got a problem.
Ed: What’s the matter?
Joe: Women. I just don’t understand them.
Ed: Do you understand your TV?
Joe: No.
Ed: So what’s the problem?!

——————–

And a little story:
Guy and girl in back of van going at it… Girl says “put a finger in me”
So he does. Then she says “put another finger in me” and he does.
“Put ANOTHER finger in me” and again he does. “Put your whole HAND in me”
and he does… “Put your other hand in me” and again he obeys.
“Now clap” At this point he replies “I can’t!”
“Tight huh?”

——————–

How many radical feminists does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Three: One to change it,
One to support her by holding the ladder,
One to write an indignant essay condemning the use of the
word “screw”.

——————–

A woman pulls over at the gas station, gets out of her car, opens the hood,
and checks the engine oil. After a few seconds of intelligent thinking,
she takes a dipstick in her hand and, raising her chest high, walks up to
the attendant:
“Excuse me sir, but can I buy a longer dipstick?”
“May I ask why you need a longer one ma’am?”
“Because this one isn’t long enough to reach the oil!!”

——————–

Why do women have wrinkles at the corners of their eyes?
Because they learned early in life to squint their
eyes when they say “SUCK WHAT????”

How are women like clams?
You don’t eat them when the red tide comes in.

Definition of entrapment
A snatch with a catch.

—————————————–

I read the other day that the SAT tests are allegedly biased toward white
males and against females and minorities. This is horse crap of the highest
order! As irrefutable evidence, I cite the fact that 2.7 million women
scored higher on the SAT’s than I did the year I took them.

However, in fairness to the ladies, I do remember a question in the math
section that was slightly biased. It was something like this:

Two men and a 135 pound woman are in a pool hall. Man A buys the woman two
pitchers of beer, and man B buys the woman three pitchers of beer. Which man
gets laid?

A. Man A
B. Man B
C. Neither. A 135 pound woman will be dead after 5 pitchers of beer.
D. Both.

Correct answer: B

—————————————–

THINGS YOU CAN SAY TO YOUR WENCH
…End of the part3. To be continued..

First Woman: “This is very embarrassing, but every time I sneeze, I
have an orgasm.”
Second Woman: “You poor dear! Are you taking anything for that?”
First Woman: “Snuff.”

————

What’s the definition of the perfect woman?
1) She’s three feet tall, has a round hole for a mouth
and her head is flat so you can put cocktails on it.
2) The sports model has pull-back ears and her teeth fold in.
3) The economy model – she fucks all night and at midnight
she turns into a roast beef sandwich and a six pack.

————

Three old ladies were sitting on a park bench when a flasher walked up
to them and displayed his endowments. The first old lady had a stroke,
the second old lady had a stroke, but the third old lady’s arms were too
short to reach.

————

This guy walks into a bar, walks up to the bartender and
says, “I’d like a scotch and soda and I’d like to buy that
douche bag at the end of the bar a drink.” The bartender
says, “Hey, she’s a regular and you can’t be talking about
her that way.” The guy says, “Okay, I’d like to buy that
nice, young lady at the end of the bar a drink.” The
bartender says, “That’s more like it,” and he walks up to
the girl and asks her what she wants to drink. She says,
“Vinegar and water.”

————

A man meets up with an old roomate whom he has not seen for many years.
The roomate has had a sex-change operation. “Was it painful?”, asks the former.
“No, not really” says the second. “How about when they cut off your dick?”
“No that really wasn’t the worst of it.” “Really?” says the first. “How
about when they had to create the new hole? That must have been painful.”
“No the worst part was when they stuck the straw in my ear and sucked out half
my brains.”

————–

Why did God give women nipples?
To make suckers out of men.

Why did the Detroit Lions hire two nuns and a prostiture for the new season?
Because they needed two tight ends and a wide receiver.

Why are clams like women?
When the red tide comes, you don’t eat them.

How does a man know when he’s eaten pussy well?
When he wakes up in the morning and his face looks like a
glazed doughnut.

Did you hear about the new video game for women only, called Dick-Man?
You put a quarter in and get fucked.

I’ve got a joke so funny it’ll make your breast fall off:
Oh…I see you’ve already heard it.

What do you call a virgin on a waterbed?
A cherry float.

What do you do when your Kotex catches fire?
Throw it on the floor and tampon it.

What’s 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1?
Bo Derek getting older.

Did you hear about the new douche powder made of alum, LSD, and Kentucky
Fried Chicken batter?
It’s uptight, outasight, and finger-lickin’ good.

What’s the difference between a light bulb and a pregnant woman?
You can unscrew a light bulb.

What do fat girls and mopeds have in common?
They’re both fun to ride until a friend see you.

Why are women giving up bowling for screwing?
The balls are lighter and you don’t have to change your shoes.

What’s the difference between a job and a wife?
After five years, the job still sucks.

How do you make paper dolls?
Screw an old bag.

What’s the white stuff you find in women’s panties?
Clitty litter.

Bumber sticker: Support E.R.A. – make him sleep on the wet spot.

What do you call a rehabilitation home for ex-prostitutes?
An all-the-way house.

Definition of a wife: “An attachment you screw on the bed to get the
housework done.”

How are an oven and a woman alike?
You have to get them both hot before you can stick the meat in.

Remember what’s worse than getting raped by Jack the Ripper? (Getting
fingered by Captain Hook.) Well, you know what’s worse than that?
Getting eaten out by Jaws.

What’s the purpose of a bellybutton?
To put your gum in on the way down.

Why was the stamp commemorating prostitution so unpopular?
You had to pay an extra ten cents to lick it.

What’s the difference between a hormone and an enzyme?
You can’t hear an enzyme.

How do you make a hormone?
Put sand in the Vaseline.

What’s a cunt that talks back?
An answering cervix.

What do you give an eighty-year-old woman for her birthday?
Mikey … He’ll eat anything.

What do you call a woman who uses too much contraceptive cream?
A spermicidal maniac.

Why do women have legs?
So they don’t leave snail tracks on linoleum floors.

What do you call a hooker with no legs?
A nightcrawler.

What do you call a girl who’s just been run over by a car?
Patty.

Why do female parachutists always wear pantyhose?
So they won’t whistle.

How do you tell when a woman is wearing pantyhose?
If she farts, her ankles will swell.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

I wanted to thank you for that nice exercise video you sent me. I was
really surprised to find it in my stocking…I mean…at 36 24 35…I didn’t
feel chubby! But the phone lines were down this morning, and I was bored
so I tried it out for a lark….it WAS a LARK!!!!

I got into my leotards and leg warmers and started the tape. Good
old warm-ups…yuck!!…but this tape has some damn good looking dudes
doing the exercises…and I got….”warmed up” as I watched. I even felt
a little kinky doing the pelvic rocks as I watched their pelvises tilt
provacatively towards my own. My gaze remained riveted on their pelvises
as Jane began the arerobics. Through their stretchie suits I could barely
make the outline of a certain muscle that I thought could use some exercise.
…damn…better get back to work! 1-2-3-4 arms front…arms back…arch
out that chest…push it out! …well Jane…I’m thrusting my chest out
as arched as I can…can’t you see those taut nipples pointing at those
hairy chests beside you?!!!?? I’ld like to lick their nipples each
time they arch them towards me!

But its a little warm in all this…I’m sliding off the leg warmers
and unbuttoning my leotard. The background music is nice…reminds me of
this time I was with this guy in his car…well, never mind.
1-2-3-4 better follow the steps turn right 3-4…oh…lordy…look at HIM!
There is this gorgeous hunk of man working on my phone lines…well…
actually it seems he’s more interested in playing peeping Tom! And
he didn’t catch me looking…I think I’ll have a little fun with him!!
Besides…these dudes on the tape have been totally ingnoring me!
Instead of moving my arms around in circles..I’ll let my hands circle
my breasts as I rock my chest back and forth in time to the music…
oh, yes…he’s still watching! I wonder if he’ll notice me licking my
lips…mmmmmmm….

Ah…back to the pelvic rock again…guess I’ll point mine towards the
window as I pretend to keep watching the screen. My hands start on my
hips but move toward my thighs with each rock…my hands are just reaching
under the leotard as Jane swithches to floor exercises. I’m really putting
on a show now as I unbutton all my buttons and caress my breasts thru my
bra…yeah…this’ll make him HOT!!! Now my hands are roaming up and
down my thighs and I too have gotten very HOT…my breathing has changed
and I no longer want to tease…I want that man…NO ..I NEED HIM…NOW!!
I look at him and our eyes lock this time and he smiles wolfishly.
I beckon with my finger but he just smiles at me…and rakes his eyes
over my wanton body. Now HE pretends he’s working…but he’s still
peeking!!!

Two can play this game! I closed the curtains and waited…hoping.
The door bell rang! “can I have a drink of water” “Please do cum in”
I gave him his water then turned to open the door to let him out. HE
grabbed me then and said he wanted to do a few exercises with me. He
had the strongest tannest arms and I wanted him…so I took him into
the exercise room and started on warm-ups. I exercised my tongue on
his lips and his salty, musky neck. He quickly joined me in these
routines..as we deviated quickly from Jane’s routines. His strong
and gentle hands began to explore my hungry body…my nipples arched
longinly for his touch…I moaned when he found them. He caressed
them with his hands…then explored them with his tongue, sending
shivers throughout my body…when he took each nipple in his mouth
and sucked it was too much. I became so hot and so dizzy, I begged
him to stop. Instead he continued to suck while his fingers drifted
down and under my leotard. He felt around for my clit as I greedily
guided my clit to his lovin fingers. I needed it then. Sucking
and stroking he took me higher and higher..no chance for a breath
my clit hot and swollen soon exploded its passion climaxing for
what seemed forever!! Damn it was good! Thank You Mister!!!

I asked if there was anything I could do to repay him…and of
course he was ready with an answer. He took off his jeans and stood
over me. He was ready! Through the bottoms of his red Boxers I
saw his gleaming hardness. I got up on my knees for a better look
and pulled the boxers down to expose his want. I quickly gave him
a “blow job” breathing lightly over the lenghth of his shaft. He
responded by moving his dick closer to my mouth…”suck me…please”
I kissed the tip then wrapped my tongue aroungd his head…as he
began to moan. I continued feathering his shaft with my tongue
as I felt his need increase. He begged me to take it all in and
I relented. He was so hot he began to thrust into my mouth… I put
an end to that. I held his hips steady as I slowly sucked his weapon
deep into my throat, sliding it out, sucking it deep. When I was ready
I increased the tempo. He soon spurted with joy.

AS he rested himself I finished undressing and demanded equal
time! He laughed and said we should be even already but that as he
was in a very generous mood I should prepare myself. But I wasn’t
prepared for such an onslought! He started with my lips and ears
and my neck…teased my nipples and then totally mastered me with
his attentions to my clit. He used his fingers, his toes, his teeth
and his tongue…and what a tongue…he had me so high I never knew
if I was cuming or going…I know I did a lot of cuming…Then he
gave me a very wet sloppy kiss and entered me with his hard cock.
I wouldn’t have thought that I had any energy left to respond.
But after a few deep thrust, an answering need grew in me. My walls
responded trying to capture his higness as he drew back after each
new thrust. He positioned himself so that the thrust was greatest
near my clit. Each time he thrust a surge of shivers raked my body…
I was climbing higher and higher again nearing the places he had
already driven me. He had total control and held himself back till
he felt me climax…then he spent himself with 3 great deep strokes
and we lay spent in each others arms.

I must admit, it WAS a GREAT workout!!! Eat your heart out, Jane!!!

Love,
Sadie.

CANONICAL LIST OF ‘HOW THEY DO IT’s

A king does it with his official seal.
AI hackers do it with rules.
AI hackers do it breast first.
AI hackers make a big production out of it.
AI hackers do it with robots.
AI hackers do it robotically.
AI hackers do it artificially.
AI hackers do it depth first.
AI hackers do it with robots
APL programmers do it with stile
APL programmers are functional.
APL programmers do it backwards.
APL programmers do it backwards.
Accountants do it with double entry.
Accountants do it with balance.
Accountants are good with figures.
Acrophobes get down.
Actors do it on stage.
Actors do it on cue.
Actors play around
Ada programmers do it by committee.
Ada programmers do it in packages.
Advertisers use the “new, improved” method.
Advertising majors do it with style.
Aerobics instructors do it until it hurts.
Aerospace Engineers do it with lift and trust.
Agents do it undercover.
Air Traffic Controllers do it in the dark.
Air Traffic Controllers tell pilots how to do it.
Air traffic controllers do it by radar.
Airlifters penetrate further, linger longer, and drop a bigger load
Alpinists do it higher.
Ambulance drivers come quicker.
Analog hackers do it continuously.
Anglers do it with worms.
Animators do it 24 times a second
Ansi does it in the standard way.
Archeologists like it old.
Architects have great plans.
Arsonist do it with fire.
Artillerymen do it with a burst.
Artists do it by design.
Artists are exhibitionists.
Artists do it with emotion
Artists do it with creativity.
Assassins do it from behind.
Assembler programmers do it one-to-one.
Assembly line workers do it over and over.
Astronauts do it in orbit.
Astronomers do it while gazing at Uranus.
Astronomers can’t do it with the lights on
Astronomers do it with Uranus.
Astronomers (astrophysicists) do it with a Big Bang.
Astronomers do it under the stars.
Astronomers do it with thier Telescopes (Refraction periods?)
Astronomers do it in the dark.
Astronomers do it with stars.
Astronomers only do it at Night
Attorneys make better motions.
Auditors like to examine figures.
Authors do it by rote.
Auto makers do it with standard equipment (or optional equipment).
B&Ders do it with their hands tied behind their backs!
BASIC programmers GOTO it.
Babysitters charge by the hour.
Backstrokers do it face up
Bailiffs always come to order.
Bakers knead it daily.
Bankers do it with interest. (However, there is a penalty for early withdrawal)
Banker – Past performance is no guarantee of future potential…
Bananas do it in bunches.
Band members do it in front of 100,000 people.
Band members do it in a parade.
Band members do it in sectionals.
Band members do it all night.
Band members do it on the football field.
Band members do it in public.
Barbarians do it with anything. (As do orcs.)
Barbers do it with shear pleasure.
Bartenders do it on the rocks.
Baseball Players (Sports people) Do it for alot of Money
Baseball players make it to first base.
Baseball players hit more home runs.
Baseball players have leather-covered balls.
Basic programmers do it all over the place.
Basic programmers do it all over the place.
Basketball players have big rubber balls.
Basketball players dribble before they shoot
Basketball players score more often.
Beekeepers like to eat their honey.
Beer brewers do it with more hops.
Beer drinkers get more head.
Beta Testers do it looking for mistakes.
Bicyclists do it in 10 speeds.
Biochemists make better lovers…want us to make *you* one?
Bio – Does that mean your offering to make a better lover than the one I alrea
dy have, or to improve ME?!??
Biologists do it with clones.
Bo Jackson knows doing it.
Boardheads do it with stiff masts.
Body-builders do it with muscle
Bookkeepers do it with double entry
Bosses delegate the task to others.
Bowlers have bigger balls.
Breaststrokers touch with both hands
Bricklayers lay all day.
Bridge players try to get a rubber.
Bridge players do it with finesse.
Broadcast/Cable Majors do it on film.
Broadcast/Cable Majors do it to epic proportions
Building inspectors do it under the table.
Bus drivers come early and pull out on time.
Butchers have better meat.
Butchers do it with dead meat.
C programmers continue it.
C programmers do it with lint.
C programmers SWITCH often.
C programmers SWITCH and then BREAK it.
C programmers SWITCH and then BREAK it.
C programmers continue it.
C’Bers do it on the air.
C++ programmers do it with their friends, in private.
CIA operatives do it with a security blanket.
COBOL hackers do it by committee.
COBOL programmers do it very slow.
COBOL programmers do it very slow.
CS111 students do it with interspersed comments.
CS111 students do it in binary.
CS111 students do it with ORGs.
Californians do it laid back.
Campers do it in a tent.
Cardiologists do it lightheartedly.
Cardiologists do it halfheartedly.
Carpenters hammer it harder.
Carpet layers do it on the floor.
Cartoonists do it with just a few good strokes.
Cavaliers do it mounted.
Cheerleaders do it with more enthusiasm.
Cheerleaders do it enthusiastically.
Chefs do it in the kitchen.
Chefs do it for dessert.
Chemical engineers do it in packed beds.
Chemists do it reactively.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

I’d been mulling over the physical evidence we had… and it
wasn’t much.

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.
Somehow, she always drew my attention. It was her long tapered
legs I suppose, or maybe the way she filled out her blouse.

I’d been stopping in to have a drink a few times a week ever
since I moved into the neighborhood. 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. It’s
unbelievable when you think how fast a year can pass. One day
blending into the next, on and on. ‘Maybe your booze consumption
has something to do with the way the days run together,’ 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.

So far tonight, Janine had been to my table twice. The first
time to deliver a glass of my usual, and the second when I waved
her over to pay the check. Both times we played eye games, and
flirted, like always.

I’d gathered up my raincoat, from the empty chair across the
table, where I’d tossed it in a sodden heap. I said my goodbyes
and gave Janine a wink, . I was in the process of shrugging on
the soggy coat, and trying to open the front door at the same
time, when it crashed open…. And everything changed.

Like I said, I was leaning forward, shrugging on my beat-up
London Fog, so the door smashed into my forehead, and I fell flat
on my ass. I knew what had happened, so I looked up to see what
kind of ill-mannered son-of-a-bitch had whacked my melon. Little
did I know…

From my vantage point on the floor, my eyes flicked up and saw
what looked like a full acre of firm, tapered, nylon encased
inner thigh that went up and up until it disappeared in the
darkness under a short navy blue skirt.

“I’m so sorry,” were the first words she said, as I scrambled to
my feet.

“Forget it,” I growled, as the adrenalin rush started to pass,
and a whole different set of hormones kicked in. I brushed
myself off, with a little help from the lady, and mumbled
something about getting another drink.

“Oh, let me buy,” she said. “It’s all my fault!”

“Okay, okay,” I grumbled. “That was my table over there,” I
added pointing.

She set out walking toward our objective, and I followed. About
this time it struck me that this lady didn’t walk. She
“moved”… What I had taken for a navy blue skit was really the
bottom half of a knit dress that hugged her body like the skin
fits a grape. And the skirt wasn’t a typical knit. It was split
up the side, nearly to the hip.

I suppose my mouth dropped open, because when I checked out the
guys at the bar, that’s what had happened to them… We all
looked like frogs catching flies.

My attention quickly shifted back to the lady’s back, or rather
her backside that shifted alluringly with every step. Her skirt
ended above mid-thigh, and her trim ankles, sculptured calves,
and trim tapered thighs flashed, as the split displayed nearly
their full length, in the subdued lighting, as that tight knit
bun-hugging, ass-emphasizing skirt showcased her tight, rounded,
undulating butt; that moved like two well-oiled footballs.

She turned, as she reached ‘my table’, pointed at a chair, and
raised her eyebrow, asking if her choice of a seat was
acceptable. I nodded. She sat, as I approached, and crossed her
long thoroughbred legs, as her skirt rode even higher on her
thighs.

I sat, and I guess I stared, because she asked if I was all
right.

All right was hardly the term to describe my condition. If you
placed your emphasis on HARD, it would been much more accurate.

I waved to Janine, who by now was glaring daggers at me, and as
she made her way to ‘our table’, I asked my companion what she
would like.

“Black Jack… And have her bring the bottle.”

As we waited for a now surly Janine to return with our drinks, I
introduced myself… “By the way, I’m Eric… Eric Thornquist.”
I always was real smooth with the ladies.

“Nice to bump into you, Eric,” she laughed. “I’m Candice.”

“I’d enjoy bumping into you too, Candice… repeatedly, but next
time I’d use something other than my head.”

She laughed, at my attempt at humor. Little did she know how
honest I was being. Shit, I’d been checking her out, during our
stroll to the table (which I thoroughly enjoyed), and again as
we faced each other across the expanse of ‘our’ heavy oak table.

She was about 5′-7″ and probably weighed 125-130 soaking wet.
(Was that a Freudian slip?). Her hair was long and blonde,
falling in soft waves until it ended, below her shoulders. Her
complexion was flawless, and her lips were full and friendly.
The top of the dress accentuated the rich fullness of her
breasts, and maybe it was the chill, but just saw a hint of her
nipples, when the light was just right. And her face was as
perfect as the rest. Open, and honest, with sparkling green eyes,
there wasn’t even a hint of pinched meanness. Maybe my luck was
finally changing.

“So, Mr. Eric Thornquist. What are you doing here tonight?” she
queried.

“Just stopped for a drop of the usual,” I answered. “And you?”

“I saw this place written up in the Arts and Entertainment
Section a while ago, and thought I’d give it a try. I thought it
had a cute name…”

“You mean, The Broken Drum?”

“Yes, but that’s not the cute part. The cute part is the
rest..’You Can’t Beat it’. That’s what the article said too.
That you couldn’t beat their steaks.”

“They are pretty good,” I answered lamely, and then plunged on,
with what I thought was a suave segue. “But, by yourself? What
about your significant other?”
…End of the part1. To be continued..