Orgasm

By car late one night from work to see my boyfriend at college, I ended up following a white truck. He wasn’t going fast so I passed him, and then he tried to pass me by by lighting the light in his cab so I could see what he looked like. He was cute and I followed him for a while and decided what hell, I passed him again and this time I did the same thing and waved over him while I was passing. It wasn’t like me at all, I don’t know if it was just late and I was bored or something, but I loved it. After a few minutes, he passed again with his light on, but this time he pointed something straight and gave me away. Then I was a sign from the rest zone and I knew what he wanted. My heart began to strike while I kind of froze not wanting to go further. I watched his flashing on half a mile in front of me. In my mind, I wasn’t going to stop, but as I approached my heart, I couldn’t help but approach his truck.

Goldie was bored and decided to walk in the forest. At first, fresh air seemed fresh and welcoming. But when the sun rose higher in the sky, the air became more sordid. Small rivers of perspiration dragged her neck and around the mounds of her breasts, disappearing in the top of her sun gown. The damp tissue attached to its skin, describing its nipples. She unbuttoned the top of her dress to let the air reach her sweating skin.

I will never forget my cousin, Arlene. She was and is really beautiful girl/wife. She and I learned a lot together when we were younger.

Arlene and her parents, Tony and Tanita, moved next to me and my parents when she was 10.

Because there were so few children living near us, none, we turned naturally towards each other. In fact, we lived in the countryside and the nearest farm was nearly a quarter of a mile and they had no children of our age.

I knew very soon that I didn’t make her happy. Our sex drives seemed out of sync. When I was tired of work and wanted to sleep, she wanted sex. When I was rested and ready, she was less and less in the mood.

When I left school and worked full time (two jobs), and she finished school, our social life was very different. My social life revolved around emails to my friends and family, 2,000 miles away. My day off was spent with her and her family - church and dinner. She spent the evening with her friends, supposed to be the “sensitive” as they drank and pursued men. She also spent many weekends out of town with her school clubs and visited her mother.

She looked good in what she had. The shape of her body suggests she’s very sporty.

Her top was low enough to show her neckline in her well-proportional breasts. When she leaned, they almost seemed to fall.

The pants she wore were skin tight on her ass, and slightly rang her feet. She had a nice ass.

She was following me around the gym. After I finished on a certain machine, I was heading through the room to work on another muscle arm/shoulder. After a minute, she came to the machine right next to me. This has happened several times.

It all started on a Saturday afternoon when I came in after mowing the lawn. Mom jumped me from behind the door and started tickling me ruthlessly.

“Gottcha!” she shouted and began to circle me against a wall. I started laughing and tried to fight Mom’s fingers for their torture. Know that if I didn’t run away soon, Mom would make me cry so loudly.

We’ve done things like that since I was seven. In the morning she woke me up for school by jumping on the bed where I slept and she started tickling me until I begged her to stop. But usually I even had the following weekend, because at the time Dad had to leave for work very early so Mom slept late. While she was still asleep, I was going to leave nowhere and land on her bed, bouncing us both up in the air. As in the past, we started to place ice cubes in shirts, water balloons coming from nowhere and when we worked in the garden, we vaporized with the garden hose (although once we weren’t out when it happened). What a mess!). Basically, we acted more like best friends than mother and son.

John, it was beautiful. How’s your day? Do I still have a bad day? I’m kidding.

“I have a wonderful day,” we whisper gently, a sweet breath dye your voice.

“Wait until you see what kind of NIGHT you’re going to have!” I’m still laughing.

“UH oh”, you smile in response.

“Oh, honey!” I’m sighing. “I forgot. I brought some work to read before tomorrow. Why don’t I clean this up from dinner, and I’m gonna start working. You could go relax, read the paper or take a shower. Sorry, it’s just a few hours of reading. I’ll catch up later if you’re patient.” You sigh too, but smile when you detect the malicious glow in my eyes. “Nite isn’t finished yet,” you think.

My husband and I were married for five years, and as for me, I considered our sex together as “great.” I did a lot of things for my husband to make our sex interesting and not boring, like playing a role, dressing up like a whore, raping sketches and on a few occasions even took part in three with my husband and another man.

I came home from work this Friday, feeling a little weird and in the mood for something wild and crazy. I went to the bedroom and undressed my work clothes, then to the bathroom for a relaxing bath.

I had decided that a bath would help me relax more I had to shave and it always helps if my skin had a chance to soak in hot water. After being in the bathtub for about 10 minutes, I thought I heard something in the living room, but I rejected it thinking I was hearing things. Then the shower curtain opened and he stood in all his glory. As usual, I didn’t know he was in town. A pleasant surprise though!! I had given him a key for a long time for this reason!!

It was the summer of 1997. I had just finished my year of high school when the Amber family moved into the house next door. The development of the housing we lived was all new and our family had settled in our home the previous month. Like most new housing developments, it was located on the outskirts of the city. I had a bus job at a steakhouse and my parents bought me an old car at low prices so I could move. My mother was able to get a good job as a director after I started at high school and was old enough to handle me.