Archive for the ‘bdsm hardcore’ Category
Tuesday, September 9th, 2008
They
go to the kitchen and Veronica checks the fridge to see what's in there and
can offer Greg " she says we got apples and oranges" Greg replies sounds real
refreshing. No one seems to be noticing the heat anymore. Wonder why?
Jan and Brad were still in the sunken living room, Veronica and Greg were
still in the kitchen, where it was quite. Jan wanted more pillows, since the
other two were gone. Bra got up and got more pillows, making sure to lay them
neatly on the floor. He went over and took Jan by her hands and pulled her up
to him. then led her over to them, where she laid down upon them. Brad got
down on s knees, leaning over and kissed Jan softly on her full lips.
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Thursday, August 28th, 2008
Veronica and Greg turn back to each other they roll over and kiss and embrace
each other closely. The candles started burning out so Veronica e asked Greg if
he would mind if she got up to put more candles in. She says it’s just so
romantic with them burning. Jan and Greg didn;t seem to notice the candles nor
anything else at that point, they were getting into themselves too much so.
Veronica and Greg got some more candles and lit them they figured it would
be best to leave them alone to have have some privacy, so they went into the
kitchen with a single candle for themselves. As they left Jan’s sunken living
room they could see Brad getting down on Jan’s full breast it turned them on to
catch a glimpse of their foreplay and Greg started to wonder when he should make
his move on his fantasy girl. Veronica is also wondering if she should be the
aggressor or if Greg is ever gonna get his nerve up and to start something.
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Tuesday, October 23rd, 2007
Nevertheless, I still found myself rebelling against her
fondling me in public, and the matter came to a head one night,
after I had been living with her about six weeks, when she was
entertaining her friends at her home. I was circulating through
the crowd serving drinks and hors d’oeuvres when I heard one of
Bonnie’s girl friends asking her when she was going to marry me.
Bonnie threw back her head and roared with laughter. “Marry
him!” she exclaimed. “Why should I marry him? I own him! He’s
my little toy. You don’t marry a toy; you play with it, and when
you get bored with it you throw it away.” Turning to me, where I
was serving drinks several feet away, she said, “Isn’t that
right, Baby Buns?”
I put the tray down and went over to her. “I didn’t hear
that,” I said.
She chuckled, put one arm around my waist and pulled me
against her. “I made up a little poem about you, Baby Buns. Want
to hear it?”
I flushed. “Well, I don’t know…”
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Tuesday, October 23rd, 2007
Before the fateful Black Tuesday, when his life fell apart, he
had be able to perform a delightful massage on Sandy’s feet and
hands. The sensuality was so high for him that he about lost it
several times. And once, while having lunch in his car in the
rain he had massaged her back and gotten up the nerve to kiss the
nape of her neck. But no kisses in this strange relationship.
Sandy had allowed platonic hugs a three times, but her guilt made
them both uncomfortable. If he had not been made of sterner
stuff… well, that brings us to today.
Their relationship essentially ended on Black Tuesday, a day to
be forgotten, but to them will forever live. True after a few
weeks they had gotten up the nerve to have a platonic lunch and
once enjoyed a brief outing to the Wonder Bread Outlet store.
You say, “What?!” But the significance was not the location, but
the fact that they were alone together. That was like the first
unaided step to a paraplegic. This time they decided they could
handle a real lunch together.
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Tuesday, October 16th, 2007
Jim had to admit that she was the most exquisitely beautiful
creature he had ever seen, yet his real attraction to her was her
inner, spiritual beauty. She gave off an aura of peace and
harmony with Man and Nature. Her every movement, so natural and
easy, displayed a deep sensual appreciation of live and love.
Most of the rest of Sandy was in Jim’s imagination. True he had
seen hints of her supple, sensual figure through her cloths, but
only what they allowed to be seen. She was not the wearer of
tight, revealing outfits, but neither did they hide the exquisite
rise of her tempting breasts, delightfully rounded derriere and
elegantly formed legs. Jim ached to explore what he could only
imagine.
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Thursday, September 6th, 2007
I expect nothing. The sun is hot, the light ugly. I walk, when
I can, in the shade of shopfronts. My face is tight. I hope for
nothing. I see women whose money has made them old. Bright scarves
shame their skin, creamy powder clogs their eyes’ fine wrinkles, heavy
earrings, chokers, bend down their necks. Sweat drips from my fingers, and
am I like them? I see men whose eyes make me old. Taut, vicious boys in
suits glance at me once, but not again. Slow, dreamy blacks with
deep-creased hands hold my gaze, and their faces don’t change at all.
When shoulders brush my shoulders I feel bruised. The lunch hour crowd
returning from work in its good, painful shoes nearly crushes me, could
have trampled me on the pavement. Assholes with ponytails and twittering
shopgirls clatter up behind me and past, busy, sexless and quick. I
stop walking. I didn’t see him. Sure, who would want to? Filthy bum.
Smiling. Things in his mustache. Why look at a thing like that?
Why look at a thing like me? (more…)
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Sunday, August 5th, 2007
The day was hot and humid like any others in the South, where
the air was so infested with odors and sweat you actually had to
swim through it. And clothes, heck, it was minimal while it clung
to you like a wet towel. It was 101 degrees with a humidity of 100
per cent, or at least, that was what it felt like. I was being
boiled right on my seat in this supposedly air conditioned
hamburger joint that was called, “Art’s Burgers”–the sign was
vandalized and now said, “Art’s Bugers.”
I had been invited by my friend Chris to visit his folks and
see the South, which he promised would be “a whole boot’n fun.” So
far, all there had been was a soak-fest, a slimy burger that I
thought moved, and supreme boredom. (more…)
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Saturday, July 21st, 2007
She stumbled out of bed to answer the shrilling phone, still half
asleep. She barked her shins on a pile of notebooks on the floor. Across the
room, her roommate groaned and rolled over in her sleep. She hurried a bit
more to get the phone before waking her roommate up.
“Hello?” she asked sleepily.
“Morning,” came the reply. She recognized the voice of her master
immediately.
“Hello, sir,” she said, and her voice had a much more submissive tone.
“Why did you call me?” She wished she was at his apartment. So much better,
to lie with him and awake with her small hands bound in a bondage belt, with
the warmth of his body nearby and having the excuse of fetters to allow her to
lie in bed.
“I want you to come to the dining hall and have breakfast with me.
Also, I want you to wear a skirt today. Above the knee, I think. And your
stockings and garter belt.”
“Why?”
“You’ll find out after English. You can wear flats if you want, but
bring your heels along in a bag. Oh, and if you wear underwear, it has to be
something that comes off easily. Wear your silk ones with the bows.”
“OK, sir,” she said, wondering inside what he meant. She would be glad
in an hour for having eaten, but right now she wanted more than anything to
crawl back into bed and sleep. She had half an hour before class. But she
obeyed, wondering why all the while.
He was no more tractable at breakfast. He allowed her to get three
bowls of Captain Crunch, something he usually forbade on the grounds that it
was junk, but anytime she asked why he wanted her dressed that way he only
answered, “You’ll find out after English.”
(more…)
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Friday, July 7th, 2006
this is oi3407 8Margo ZXC FGB test N1
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