Steamy-Stories

 Home Repairs: Part 1She’s a plumber who fixes more than the sink.Based on posts by Mr Still, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.It takes some getting used to, the ways of the world these days. The sink in our kitchen had flooded the floor and of course we had to deal with it and of course it was a Saturday morning. I took a look at the spaghetti of pipes and hoses under the sink and complained to my wife June who stood watching with her arms crossed while I went on about how something that was supposed to be as simple as water coming into the house and water going out of the house could be so complicated in these modern homes.June seemed unimpressed by my complaint and latched on to the main issue. "Can you fix it?" she asked with a hint of urgency. "I like things in our home to work.""I've just been explaining;” I started but she cut me off."Just get a plumber in then," she ordered and left the kitchen and the puddle on the floor, striding out as if this failing of the house was somehow my fault.I did the google thing and got as far down as Advanced Plumbing which seemed to be based nearby and who boasted that they did twenty-four hour callouts. Reasoning that they could only be as cheap or expensive as the rest of the alphabet I gave them a call and spoke to a receptionist who seemed to be caring enough and unfussed that it was Saturday morning. She warned me to expect the bill to be a minimum of a hundred dollars by the time the leak was found and repaired, depending on the cost of parts. But not much more than that, she told me, based on my description of the situation. "These things are usually solved pretty quickly," she assured me with what I assumed was blithe marketing confidence. But she promised that someone would be out within the hour. I hoped with that sort of service, the problem could be solved pretty quickly and we could get back to our weekend. So assuming that I had everything under control, I went back to the weekend paper. I merely had to wait and it would all be solved.Sure enough the sort of van you would expect your local plumber to drive pulled into my driveway about forty-five minutes later. It clearly advertised it was Advanced Plumbing which gave me some immediate relief, like the problem was already solved.I went to the window in time to see a tallish and shapely blonde woman get out of the van's driver's side. She appeared to be by herself. And indeed she was. She wore short shorts and the company issue hi-viz top which suggested to me even from my distance that she had a bust worth my attention.She knocked on the door and I immediately answered, greeting this woman from Advanced Plumbing with her bright, open face framed by a mane of blonde hair along with the rest of her readily apparent attributes down to her long tanned legs."You're Henry with the plumbing problem," she announced."You're a;” I started, hoping that she wasn't put off by how I stared, examining her.“plumber," she helpfully concluded for me. "Is there a problem? I thought we worked out everything on the phone? If I can have a look at your leak?"I remembered to let her into the house. "Ah, you were the receptionist?" I asked somewhat surprised."Well, I answer the phone." She smiled. "I'm May. And I am a certified plumber. I realize that it can be a bit difficult for you old people.""Old? I'm forty-four." This impertinence was not acceptable and could not be let go without some level of correction."Oh I am sorry," May smiled while clearly looking me over, "I thought you were older. Now if you let me, I'll have a look at your plumbing and see if I can get your waterworks operating right again." She gave me a salacious smile with that as I led her to the kitchen.There would be a reckoning for that too, I thought, but later. A reckoning after we got my immediate problem solved. I guessed that June was busy out in our back garden, so I would have to think ahead if I was going to get my revenge on May while keeping June in the dark about anything that went on.I sat at the kitchen table and started to scroll through my phone as May got down on her knees to look under the sink. I looked over at her at just the right moment. Her head was in the cabinet thing right under the sink as her shorts stretched enticingly over her bottom. Since she was there and I was here I could make a close inspection of what was before me. Suddenly May turned around to me."What are you doing?" she snapped.I smiled. "Keeping an eye on you. Health and safety and all of that." Which in a sense was true. You don't leave someone in that position by themselves. It's in all the safety manuals. I explained that to May and she shook her head and smiled in a way that seemed agreeable and enticing. I felt a stirring in my pants in response. May went back to looking for the problem, so I adjusted my cock which had started to grow, getting a little uncomfortable in my pants from all the watching. I also switched my phone to film her. It might be a while before I saw a bottom like that again so I decided that I needed a record. It really was quite an impressive bottom, round, not too large, with a nice arc curving into her bare legs. I got thinking about what May might do with it for pleasure. I realized that I was adjusting my cock again which was natural given the situation that presented itself to me.May stood up and smiled at me, returning my concentration to the damp problem in front of us. "I've found what the problem is," she announced and used what I assumed was genuine plumbing terminology to explain her diagnosis. I was slightly distracted by the way that her shirt had bunched up around her bust suggesting that her tits were somewhat larger and more enticing than I had first imagined.She clearly intended to impress me with her plumbing knowledge. When she finished I asked "can you fix it?" meaning I wanted to know if she could fix it right away.Fortunately, May nodded and told me that she had to go to the van to get the parts and everything would be sorted soon. She smiled oddly when she said that."Do you need a hand?" I asked her but she shook her head."You just watch," she told me as she strode purposefully out of the room again giving me a different but equally pleasant view of her backside. I wondered about getting the chance to see more of it.However, like something from an English bedroom farce, with May out of the house, June came back into the room while I sat and waited. "Is everything under control?" she asked in her now familiar distant way.I explained that May had gone to her van to get the parts, but June showed as much interest in what I was saying as I had shown to May's plumbing explanation. "Tell me when it's fixed," June ordered and disappeared back to whatever she had been doing.May of course returned almost straight after with some items which I assumed were plumbing related and were presumably what was needed to solve my problem. She got back into her position on the floor to do the repairs. I again was fiddling with my phone and again found myself filming May at work again. With of course her bum and her legs being my main focus. As she strained to remove some parts and attach others, I was sure that her shorts rode more tightly up into her crotch giving me a pretty good idea of what she would look like without them. So I focused in, just to be sure.May surprised me when she again turned around. "Fixed," she told me. Again with that knowing smile."That didn't take long," I complemented her. "I guess it helps to know what you're doing.""Indeed," she agreed. She stood up and tugged her shorts back down into their right place. "Now there's something else we have to fix. You were filming me from behind while I was working. I trust you got some nice footage of my bum."I held her eye contact. "Yes," I told her. "Health and safety reasons. So I would have evidence if anything went wrong." I got a bit stern with my tone. "That's quite a suggestion on your part." I wondered at what I could do to quell this rebellion and started to think through my possibilities.But May didn't seem concerned at my challenge. If anything that nagging smile got more malevolent. She held my stare. "Health and safety is all very well, But you see I have this video of you wanking over me." She let that float between us for a moment of contemplation.I shifted in my chair, which given my state may not have been the best thing to do. "Well, I wouldn't call it wanking," I told her.She scrolled through her phone and studied a video, apparently of me. "I would," she retorted and held her phone towards me. "Perhaps we could review all of my footage. And also one of us has a problem the other doesn't. One of us has a wife in the house and the other one doesn't. And," she added pointing, "one of us currently has an erection. So that kind of tips the balance. Especially as the wife one of us has is, as I said, here in the house somewhere and could appear at any moment.""How do you know she'll be upset at any of this?" I smiled trying to convey that of course June would not be worried by a covered erection and a video recording of a visitor's bottom.May did not seem fussed though. "Oh, I can tell the type." Well, she was right there. Bluff called. "And I'll take fifty dollars off my otherwise inflated bill to make you feel better about it.""So what are you suggesting?" I guessed I better ask.May walked over close to where I was sitting to stare down at me. The smile had become dark, threatening. "Well, let's get a good look at you, for a start.""Meaning?" I asked her."Get those pants down. Let's see what effect my bottom had on your manhood."I looked at May hard. I was being asked to expose myself by this extremely attractive and playful woman. Well, why not? I'd think of something to tell June if I needed to. I started to unbuckle my jeans when May told me to stop. "I'd rather you stood up when you did it." Okay that was easy. I stood up and May imm

The Shagging Centaur Inn A mature tavern owner charms a wandering minstrel. Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Servicing a serviceman. Julia could still taste the cum in her mouth. Smiling, she kept wiping down the counter, moving the dirty rag in her hand in tight circles across the polished wood. It had been a bit reckless of her, to leave the bar unattended. But what could she do? It's not every day a strapping young soldier, fresh from the front, comes into your bar; and compliments your appearance. She simply had to thank him. After all; he s keeping the homeland free of marauders, and colonizers. And what could be better thanks for this gorgeous bloke, than a quick and messy blowjob, in the storeroom; while all his soldier friends wait at the table, none the wiser? The look on his face, when she'd taken his hand, and led him behind the bar; had been priceless! But not as priceless as his face, when she closed the storeroom door, and dropped to her knees. After the shock had worn off, he'd been quite a gentleman. Now gasping politely as she worked her lips up and down his shaft, never once cursing, or pulling her hair. Not that she minded when men did that, but it was nice to meet a guy with manners, every once in a while. Even if he had unloaded close to a gallon of semen into her mouth, when he finally came. Julia checked the bodice of her Bavarian Dirndl, making sure the copious jizz hadn t dibbled onto her impressive cleavage, or the straining cotton lacing that heaved her bulging tits, such that they perpetually threatened to pour out of the low d colletage. Bavarian women knew a thing or two about the power of tits to charm a virile man. Julia s beautiful body was the unspoken mascot of the Inn. Mention the Shagging Centaur to any traveler of the isle, and they would all harken back to the vision of Julia s wonderful cleavage. She ran her tongue around her mouth again. A bit bitter, but as come went, not too bad. At least he tasted better than some of the other men she'd blown behind the bar. She hoped he'd come back soon. Some nights her pussy ached for a reaming. Tonight her nipples were craving a man s massage. They pressed hard  outward, on the stout fibers of the white blouse Julia chuckled to herself. Gawd, she was bad. But she did it so well. And after all, didn't people always say that the best thing you can do in life, is to bring joy to everyone you meet? And if there was one thing Julia was good at, it was bringing joy to people. Sometimes several times a night. The truth was, Julia loved what she did. Watching someone cum, gave her a sense of supreme satisfaction, whether it was on her, in her, or just because of her. She'd never forget the time she finished a man off, just by whispering into his ear. She couldn't believe it when she heard him start to groan, and watched as his cock twitched, shooting out jet after jet of sticky white semen all over his muffling hands, and dripping down his legs. It made her feel so sexy to know men lusted after her. And while she had to admit, she was occasionally guilty of leading them on; she always made sure to give them at least a little satisfaction. Honestly, if she wasn't the proprietor and sole employee of the Shagging Centaur, she probably would have been sacked years ago, with the number of men she'd dragged upstairs after hours. One of the perks of being the landlady. Looking up as she wiped down the varnished wood countertop, Julia's eyes scanned across the bar, taking in the few patrons she had, sat around tables, drinking from tankards and talking amongst themselves. It was likely to be a quiet night. She sighed. Ah well, she'd already had her fun. No need to get cock-greedy. Reminiscing with the Dwarf. Of the people in the bar, Julia knew most of them already. In the enchanted Isle of Galbriath; Hollydour was a small town. And the Shagging Centaur was its only real tavern, which meant as the proprietor and barmaid, very few people slipped past her. Looking out across the bar, she saw a variety of familiar faces, humans, dwarves, and even the occasional half-ling as well. Off to the side, near the fire, two old men sat in comfortable silence, each nursing a glass of brandy. Towards the door, a group of young hussies, probably no more than eighteen; giggled amongst themselves, happily. All around her, the common folk of the town sat, enjoying the calm atmosphere, after a hard day s work in the fields. That was the other reason Julia loved working here. After her long life of excitement and adventure, it was nice to live and let live; in a place as peaceful as Hollydour. Sure, the occasional passionate liaison certainly spiced things up a bit, but for the most part, she was content to live at a slower pace. After all, there was more than one way to satisfy people, and most of the time a hot meal, cold drink, and warm fire were all they needed. Julia was happy to provide. Her Inn offered a sandwich or soup for a hungry stomach, A range of beverages for the soul; and she could let a room, to the traveler holding over til the morrow. Letting out a content sigh, she stepped back from the polished bar, admiring her work. The wood had certainly seen better days, but at least it wasn't sticky anymore. She chuckled to herself. Looking up, her smile widened, as she saw a familiar face walking through the door, heading towards the bar. "Afternoon Brungard" Making his way to the bar, the grizzled old dwarf smiled up at Julia with a lopsided grin. "Afternoon lovely!" Hopping up onto a bar stool, Brungard heaved his burly arms down onto the counter with a grunt. Julia turned to grab a tankard. "Same as always?" The dwarf chuckled. "Same as always." Julia flashed him a smile and reached up to one of the kegs behind the bar. Filling the tankard with care, she turned back and put it down in front of her old friend. "Good day?" The dwarf grunted. "Same old crap, but yeah, not too bad." "How's the apprentice?" Brungard shook his head. "He's keen, I'll give him that, but the lad wouldn't know a pair of tongs from a turnip if I didn't keep reminding him." Julia laughed, resting a hand on the bar as she lent on her arm. "That bad, huh?" "Ah, he'll get the hang of it. Just as long as he keeps his mind on his blacksmithing instead of every pretty little thing that walks by. I swear, flash that boy a nice pair of legs and he'll be dead in the head for hours." Shaking his head again, the dwarf took a swig from his tankard, as Julia chuckled. "Like you're one to talk, Mr. Stouthammer. I was with you back in Fellscar, remember? The way you went through those chaste elven girls, anyone would've thought you'd been celibate your entire life!" The pair shared another chuckle. "Fair point, fair point. But I wasn't in charge of a forge then. No, I was still in my 'glory days'" The dwarf took another swig. Julia sighed, thinking back to her days travelling the world. There'd been a few more of them, then; besides Brungard and herself. Salia, the dark-skinned mage from distant Surket Sha, Aeron Greenstrider, the stern elven ranger. And of course, Sir Michael Carthwaite. Julia smiled to herself. Of course, he hadn't been a knight when they'd traveled together. That was a title he'd been given much later. She wondered where he was now. Still serving the queen of Amara as her royal consort. Lucky bastard, she thought. She missed Michael. Perhaps she should write him a letter. "Weren't we all." She sighed out, speaking in mock-wistfulness "Oh, to be young again." The dwarf bellowed out a laugh that filled the tavern. "Young again? Hah! You never knew me when I was young, little missy! I was already well past a hundred by the time you were born!" Julia laughed along with her old friend. "Fair point, but we can't all live as long as you. Some of us are only human." "Huh, yeah. Don't I know it." The old dwarf went back to his cup. "Heard anything from the others?" "No, not in a while. Salia used to write, but we lost touch two or three years ago. It's a long way to send, after all, and what with the war in the hinterlands." Julia let her sentence trail off. The Gaelic tribes don t trust us and the Anglos only send exorcist missionaries to this isle. We only get news when a fugitive comes, needing sanctuary from the Scots. Salia had always been a close friend of hers, and as they'd grown older she'd hoped they'd stay in touch better. But, as the years went on, and their lives took them to different continents, things had become a little trickier. Still, she'd never forget all the wild nights they'd shared together, in their mercenary days; drinking till they blacked out. Of course, waking up with all sorts of strangers, not always in the same town they started in. Hell, once or twice they'd even woken up together, and only sometimes with someone else in between! Julia smiled. She missed her travelling companions. "What about you? Any news?" The dwarf shook his head. "No, not a word. But then again, when did I?" Brungard chuckled. "Gotta admit though, I do miss those days. Julia said with longing in her soul. Living on the road, nothing to tie me down, exploring forgotten places just for the hell of it." The old dwarf smirked. "Killing things for money, then pissing it away on drinks and hookers." Julia chuckled along with him. "Yeah, those really were the days. But still, we couldn't do it forever, could we?" "No. Gotta settle down sometime. But hell, nothing wrong with a bit of harmless reminiscing." The dwarf finished his drink, with a long, satisfied 'ah'. Popping a gold coin down on the bar, he got up from his stool and straightened his belt. "Well, I better be off. Gonna be a busy day tomorrow. Some duke's ordered gold-plated horseshoes for his stallion, and gods know I'm not letting the boy deal with it." Heading for the door, he called over his shoulder. "Thanks for the drink, Jules.

A Long Awaited Package A lonely woman enjoys her postman. Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Postman in Connected. Samantha awoke with a start, the beeping of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. Groggily, she rolled over and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes. Rolling over onto her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find the motivation to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Her mind wandered to the day ahead, the meetings, the paperwork, the boredom of sitting in her cubicle waiting for five o'clock to roll around. Just like every day. She sighed. At least it paid the rent. At 48 years old, she s begun to think her chances of finding a mate were slipping away. Her body still has great curves, even if the portions are now more bountiful. Her face was always alluring, but she s not been smiling as much, lately. Soon enough, Samantha's alarm clock went off again, breaking her out of her sleepy haze. Rolling her legs off the side of her bed into her warm slippers, she stood up with a yawn, and headed downstairs to make herself breakfast. Sat at the small dining table of her flat's modest kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she couldn't help but stare off into the distance. Checking the clock, she felt a sudden familiar rush of excitement. It was nearly eight. Tapping her foot, she waited eagerly for the one thing that invariably brightened her day. Rudy. Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ring, and practically leapt to her feet. After adjusting her dressing gown to make sure she was decent, she quickly made her way to the front door. Through the glass she could see a familiar silhouette standing on her porch, a large bag slung over his broad shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly adjusting her hair, she reached out her and opened the door. "Hi" Sam said with a warm continence. "Good morning. Parcel for you, Miss Foster. I assume it s for you? It says S Foster. Is there any other S foster at this address?" Sadly, I ve lived alone for several years. My late husband suffered health issues, and passed away 5 years ago. Ah, that s difficult to get past, isn t it, Miss Foster? You know; Jenny and I, she s my 17 year old daughter; We lost my dear Caroline, 16 years ago. Jenny still has emotional issues with me moving on; you know? Going on dates, and such. Oh, Rudy, you re raising a daughter by yourself? You re a brave and devoted parent. Is she still in high school? Graduating this spring! She might be valedictorian, if she keeps up her grades. Heading off to state university next fall on a nursing scholarship. But that s when I hope to move on to what s next for me. Samantha smiled. In front of her stood a tall, handsome man, wearing a postman's uniform. His hair was a dusty blonde color, shaved short at the sides, and his eyes shone the deep blue of the ocean at night. Beneath his clothes, his muscular build was evident, and as he spoke the warm smile on his lips and the light stubble decorating his sharp jawline made her heart flutter. Rudy handed her the letters, and the parcel. Reaching out, she took the parcel from his hands, her fingers brushing against his as she did, causing them both to laugh awkwardly. She looked up at him. "Oh, thank you, Rudy. Smiling, he tipped his hat and said; I better keep moving. Rain showers are expected every afternoon this week. Good day, Miss Foster. It s been really nice to visit. "Same time tomorrow?" "Same time tomorrow. 8AM sharp. As long as I have a package to deliver, of course." They both chuckled, and as he made his way back down the garden path, Samantha couldn't help but sigh, as she watched him go. Closing the door, she made her way back into the kitchen, putting the parcel down on the table, and returning to her breakfast. Quickly finishing her toast, she left the water boiling to make her way upstairs to the bathroom. Letting her dressing gown fall around her feet, Samantha stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. As the warm water began to cascade down her body, she let out a long, content sigh. Few things in life felt as good as a warm shower. Closing her eyes, she just stood there for a while, letting the water run down her naked body, across her shoulders, between her tits, down her thighs to her feet. Once again, she thought about the day ahead of her, and grimaced. God, she needed a break. She'd been working in the same office for almost five years now, with no promotion and barely a pay rise. It wasn't a bad job by any means, but after a while the monotony had begun to wear on her soul. What she needed was an escape, something new and exciting to revitalize her. Perhaps a holiday, she thought, reaching for the strawberry and coconut shower gel to her right. Somewhere exciting, and exotic, like India or South America. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she could just go spontaneously, book a week off work and head to the airport, jump on the first flight she could and see where the universe took her. She laughed. As she began to lather herself with soap, her thoughts wandered once again, back to the handsome postman who came to her door every day. She thought about his smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when she asked if she'd see him again tomorrow. Her hands moved across her stomach, and she couldn't help but think of the way his hands brushed against hers, the tenderness with which he handed her post to her. She felt her cheeks beginning to flush as her imagination took her further, to the tightness of his shirt, stretched across his muscular chest, and sharp cut of his jaw. Her hands began to drift further down, across her thighs as she began to picture him shirtless, his strong arms wrapped around her, his own hands on her body, caressing her, holding her tight against him as he kissed her neck from behind. She let out a soft gasp as her fingertips traced higher along her legs, getting closer and closer to her privates as her thoughts grew steamier by the second. Barely inches from herself, she imagined him pushing her down gently onto the bed, climbing on top of her from behind, his mouth on her ear... Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She still had to be at work in half an hour. Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry herself as she quickly made her way to her bedroom to get dressed. Leaving the house, locking the door behind her, Samantha couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy at leaving her fantasy behind as well. Sitting in the morning traffic, her brain a mess of emotions, she tried not to think about it, and to focus on the day ahead instead. She'd always been a model employee, reliable and good at her work, but lately she'd been falling behind, and she couldn't afford to have another unproductive day. But later, sat alone in her cubicle, she found it increasingly hard to focus on her work. Every time she tried to work on a report, she's just end up staring at the screen, reading the same sentences, over and over, unable to think of anything but the man who came to her door every day. By the time her lunch break had rolled around, she'd barely done any work at all. Grabbing her coat, she made her way towards the staircase, heading out to the cafe down the road, where she usually got her sandwiches. Stepping through the door to her concrete office building and out onto the windy street, she turned her collar up to the cold. As she started to walk, she could feel the familiar melancholy feeling rising again. Here she was, on her way to the same sandwich shop she visited every day, to get the same thing for lunch, before heading back to the same building to do the same boring job. Every single day. She wanted to scream. She needed to escape, find something to break up the monotony of her life, even for just a moment. A string of failed relationships had seen her throw herself into her work, but now she couldn't stand the idea of doing this for the rest of her life. She needed something to spice things up, something wild and spontaneous, to bring the spring back to her step. An idea quickly flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it as fantasy. But then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it just have to be a fantasy? Why couldn't she make it a reality? What was stopping her? She nodded to herself. She'd made up her mind. Nothing was going to change if she didn't force it to. She needed to break out, live her life the way she wanted to. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first. Hurrying to the cafe, she made her order, choosing the first thing she saw on the menu. She gave the girl behind the counter her money, and made her way back to the office, eating as she went. She began to plan exactly what she was going to do, how best to put her plan into motion. By the time she arrived back at her cubicle her mind was set. She sat down, turning her computer back on, and went back to trying to work, her mind a whirlwind of excitement. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaking slightly as her heart pounded in anticipation. It didn't take long to make up for the slow morning, and by the time the clock chimed five, Samantha was reasonably pleased with the work she'd accomplished. Grabbing her coat again, she made her way towards her boss's office. As she rapped her knuckles against the door, she heard a gruff voice from within. "Yes, come in." Opening the door, she saw the director of her company closing up his laptop and putting it away into his bag. "Ah, Samantha, how can I help?" "Hi, Mr. Bergstein, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know I might be a bit late to work tomorrow." Her boss raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow? You've left it awfully late to tell me. What's going on?" Samantha felt her heart leap into her throat. "Something's come up at home, and I just need to take care of it tomorrow morning. I'll be in by ten, don't worry." Mr. Ber

Adam & Eve's First Time Adam and Eve meet and mate in the Garden of Eden Based on a post by MrJack. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time. Readers: Biblical and historical accounts of Adam and Eve's early relationship are very sketchy. This imprecise information leaves much for the imagination to fill in. This tale is an interpretation of events. To paraphrase an old Simon & Garfunkel song; 'You'll hear words you never heard in the bible' Alone was I, walking aimlessly through the green pastures and meadows, when upon a forested glen I did come. Seeing no harm in it, I entered the shadowy realm for a little exploratory expedition. Soon I realized I must be careful of the myriad array of briars and brambles which could rip and tear uncovered skin. I began thinking about how lucky animals were to have fur or hair for skin protection. The only furry hair covering I had on my body was on the top of my head and between my legs. I made up a word for my unclothed predicament. I called it 'nudity'. Yep, I was as nude as the day the Creator made me! This is what I did for a living. I gave a name to 'things' which had no name before. Truth be told, one of the first things I named was the long, dangly appendage hanging down between my legs. The word 'cock' came to my mind and I decided to stay with it. I believe I came up with the name when I'd named the 'rooster'. Those horny cacklers wake up early in the morning and crow like hell! The cock between my legs was the same way. Early in the morning it did rise and the only way I'd discover to tame its demanding crowing was to pump it vigorously with my hand until it shot out a load of milky cream. A side benefit to this exercise was that it felt pretty damn good doing it! As I continued walking along, the trees, bushes, and briars thinned out and soon I found myself on the edge of a beautiful garden. I was awestruck by its magnificence and bounty. Right then and there, I decided to name the place 'Eden'. So amazed was I by the wonders of Eden, I didn't immediately hear the soothing, angelic singing coming from behind a tree. Finally, I heard the melodious tones. With my curiosity aroused, I crept forward to investigate. Talking about being aroused! Why, as soon as my eyes beheld the sight of the wondrous creature standing there, the cock between my legs became swollen and fully erect! Nude like me, the enchanting vision had shapes and curves which were stimulating my loins in a way I'd never known before. For some curious reason I had an irresistible urge to mate with the exotic being. Where in the world this fascinating life form had come from, I couldn't say. Since the being was standing up on legs like mine, I decided this must be a female version of me. I had been calling myself a 'man', so I would call this creature a 'woman'. Woe is me as a man because I've fallen head-over-heels in love with her seductively erotic body. Touching a tender place in my side where a rib had been removed, I recalled something the Almighty had said about making me a companion and playmate for life. Perhaps this feminine apparition was it. The woman bent over to pick some berries from a bush. Posed as she was, I realized her body was so picture-perfect a visual image of the word 'playmate' was stuck in my mind and in my eyes. Stepping out from behind the tree, I walked towards the woman. I had a hypnotic urge to touch her, but I kept my hands to myself. Speaking softly, I said, "Hi there, woman. How are you? Do you have a name? If not, I can give you one. It's my job, if you care to know." Startled, the woman turned, smiled, and answered, "Hi yourself, Mister. I'm fine. I've been wondering when you'd be coming along. Yes, I have a name. God told me to call myself 'Eve'. You must be the famous 'Adam' he's told me about?" "Yes ma'am, Adam is my name," I responded. "I'm very happy to meet you, Eve. God has only told me a few things about you. Hell, he didn't mention anything about how beautifully sexy you would be!" Eve looked at me disapprovingly and sternly admonished, "Adam, we're not supposed to use the word 'Hell' because we come from a place called 'Heaven'!" "Now woman!" I said firmly. "Don't you start pestering me about my language! Next thing I know, you'll be telling me I can't drink or smoke!" Looking at me with a frown on her face, Eve asked, "Do you really drink and smoke, Adam? God told me you were a 'good' man with no vices!" "Miss Eve, don't you fret," I said. "I was just kidding. I don't drink. I don't smoke and I don't chew and I don't go with girls that do!" Eve giggled at my feeble attempt at humor. Taking my hand, she led me over to a grassy nook near a quiet-running stream. We talked a little while and had a snack made from nuts, berries, and fruit. Unashamedly, I was giving Eve's body a good hard look. This woman had a head full of long, curly hair. She had a thin bush of curly hair between her legs. Below her bush, long, well-tapered legs ran all the way down to barefooted feet. Upon her chest sat two magnificent mammary orbs. The melon-shaped ornaments decorating Eve's chest had an alluring, inviting attraction for both my hands and my mouth. My hands wanted to play with them and my mouth wanted to suckle the feminine fruit. There at the tip of each perfect sphere was a protruding, pink nub. Without asking for Eve's permission or consent, I began playing with the feminine objects I so desired. She didn't seem to mind, so I played to my heart's content. My mind began to think up names I could give to these mesmerizing mounds. I had a couple of words in particular in mind. Eve beat me to the punch. Smiling contently, she said, "Adam, do you like my girls? I'm not exactly sure about what to call them, but I've come up with two names to choose from. I like the word 'breasts' and the word 'tits'. I can't decide between them. Which one of them do you like better, Adam?" "Damn, Eve!" I answered with mischievously teasing distress. "I'm having trouble choosing myself because I like your right one just as much as the left one! They're both beautiful girls!" Shaking her head with annoyance, Eve retorted impatiently, "Silly man, I didn't mean which 'girl' you liked the best! I want to know which name you preferred. Do you like 'tits' or do you like 'breasts'?" "What's in a name, Eve?" I replied. "A rose by any other name would look and feel as beautifully sweet! How about we keep both names? We'll use 'breasts' on formal occasions like when we are talking to God. I'll say something like, 'God, that's some mighty fine breasts you've given my woman Eve!' And, when we are alone, we'll use 'tits' as a more intimate endearment. I'll say something like, 'Hot damn Eve, your tits are beautiful!' What do you think about that?" Eve giggled merrily and then proved she too could play the game of mischievousness merriment. "Sounds fine to me," she said. "Mister, you can call them 'breasts' or 'tits' or 'jugs' or 'knockers' or 'boobs' or anything you want just as long as you love them and play with them! You do love them, don't you, Adam? If you do, then you'd better kiss them!" "Hell yes, I love them!" I answered adamantly. And, kiss those beautiful girls I did. First, one melon-shaped boob felt the oral assault of my tit-hungry roving mouth. The other tit became a victim of a similar attack. Nubile nipples popped to attention against my teeth as my tongue traced kissing circles round and round them. So violent was my mouth's breast battering, Eve was knocked to her back in the soft grass. A nipple was pulled out of my suckling mouth so violently it caused an audible 'pop'. Having tasted feminine fruit, I had no intention of stopping now. My flesh-hungry lips explored my woman's silky, soft flesh from head to toe. Her supple lips provided sweet nectar which inflamed the twin fires of passion and love. Eve's abdomen and its bellybutton indentation became playgrounds for my kissing touch. I flipped Eve over onto her belly and kissed her back, her legs, and the well-endowed fullness of her pretty derriere. 'Derriere'? Now where in the world did my mind get this name? This name is too fancy and formal for everyday use. So, I needed a short, intimate name which would convey the stimulating horniness I felt while playing with and kissing this sweet, soft feminine flesh. When I bent over again to kiss the fullness of this exotic beauty's behind, my erect cock was tickled by the grass beneath her. I liked the feeling of grass under my feet as a walked to and fro barefooted. Yeah, I liked grass and I liked ass. 'Ass'...? Why this word popped into my head, I couldn't say, but it sounded like a keeper to me. "Hey, Eve," I said. "Lady, you've got a really nice ass! I like it very much, but I believe the Old Man upstairs gave you a defective one. Why honey, your ass has a crack down the middle splitting it apart!" Eve giggled with melodious merriment. Flipping over onto her back, she looked at me just as if she were staring at a half-witted man. "Adam," she lectured. "God's ways are mysterious and we're not supposed to question them. Besides, I don't believe my 'ass' is defective because I have a cracked mound on the front side of me, too!" "You do?" I asked with skepticism. "Well, Miss Prissy, I believe I'd have to get a look at that place before I'd go to giving God the benefit of my doubts. I come from a 'show-me' land, so My lady, show me!" Playing along eagerly, Eve spread her legs wide and pointed to the hair-covered opening between her legs. During my visual and oral exploration of this wondrous woman's body, I had bypassed this bush-covered place. My thinking was if God had covered it then perhaps it was a female 'thing' with little a man would find appealing. Man-o-man was I mistaken! Right there, where Eve was pointing, was a glorious mound of erotically stimulating feminine flesh the likes of which I couldn't believe existed! Appealing...? Why, ble

The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 2 Hot Chocolate and homemade cookies. Based on a post by MrJack, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time. The afternoon and early evening hours dragged on uneventfully. I had bathed (again), and put on a dark wool shirt and faded jeans. While the snow continued falling, I snacked on cookies and absentmindedly tried to watch part of a football game. Flipping off the TV, I tried surfing some porn, but the flavor of mint chocolate cookies drew my thoughts back to the taste of a luscious young Girl Scout Leader's lips and the feeling of a tight pussy enveloping my cock. I suppose I ate too many cookies, so my supper was just a hurried snack of thrown-together leftovers. About 6 o'clock, I cleaned up the kitchen and then went to the living room to stir up the embers in the fireplace. I threw a few logs in and soon had a cozy warm fire, heating and lighting the room. Curiosity led me to flip on the front porch light and take a look at the weather through the front door's ice-covered windowpane. Huge flakes of fluffy snow were falling like windswept feathers from the darkened sky. Several inches were already covering the ground. Suddenly, my peering eyes caught a glimpse of a hat and coat-covered figure trudging through the snow on a heading straight towards my door. The short stature of the struggling person made my heart leap with hopeful anticipation. If my instincts were right, my young Scout Leader lover was returning like a thief to the scene of an afternoon crime. When I cracked the door open, the snow-covered apparition rushed inside and headed straight for the warmth of the fire. Throwing a backpack in a chair, my visitor removed gloves and then snatched off a knitted woolen hat and a long scarf. A fly-away mop of curly brunette hair confirmed my suspicions that my Little Debbie had indeed returned to me. "Hi Jason," she breathlessly said. "Goodness gracious, I didn't realize it was so 'wintry' outside!" Although I was elated beyond belief, to have my teen love back in my home, I couldn't stop myself from admonishing her. "Damnit Debbie!" my unbidden words said. "I thought I told you to 'go away little girl' until we had time to think things out!" "Hold onto your horses, Mister," Debbie retorted. "I didn't come back to stir up trouble. I've brought your jacket back to you. I'll leave when I get warmed up. Okay?" Digging into her backpack, Debbie drew out my jacket and tossed it to me. Throwing the coat aside, I grabbed the girl and jerked her into my arms. "No young lady, it's not 'okay'!" I answered forcibly. "You're staying for a while! If I need to, I'll do what you said I would someday say. I'll 'beg you to stay'! Now, take off your coat and your wet shoes and socks, please." Stepping away from me, the obedient teenager shrugged her shoulders and then removed her coat. When my astonished eyes realized what this girl had on beneath her outerwear, I just about peed in my pants! Long gone was the tight-fitting Scout Leader uniform. In its place the young woman wore a pair of baggy 'bib' overalls. They weren t denim, like farmers often wear. This garment was handmade and pastel blue, made from a cotton knit fabric. Beneath the bibs she had on no shirt! She had on no bra! And, if I were to guess, I'd guess she had on no panties! Debbie stood flatfooted and then bent over at the waist. She began pulling off her snow-wet shoes and socks. Without the confinement and support of a bra, this girl-woman's breasts fell down and strained against the barely-concealable covering of her bib top. The twin thin straps crossing over her bare shoulders were the only mechanical supports keeping the busty boobs from escaping completely. For a young lady of such a slim and diminutive stature, her tits seemed to be enormously over-proportioned. I never was a fella who kept up with the technicalities of boob-cup size. I usually used a more objective measurement. I'd say Debbie's breasts were about the size and shape of a couple of Sunshine State grapefruits on an overdose of steroids. At the moment, those dangly mesmerizing melons were swinging to and fro in the firelight's glow. As they swayed, jutting nickel sized dark-pink nipples flashed out from their bib covering. Two-inch pale pink areolas framed the nubile nubs. "God damn it, Debbie!" I suddenly announced. "I thought you just said you didn't come here to 'stir up trouble'! Hell girl, a female with exposed tits like those is going to get plenty of 'trouble' coming her way!" Debbie smiled, grabbed her backpack, and took a seat on the floor near the fire. "Jason, my dear," she teasingly scolded. "Mister, I have on more clothes than you had on when you greeted me at the door earlier today! Hey Honey, guess what? Sit down because I have a surprise for you." Giving in to undeniable temptation, I sat on the plush rug, in the middle of the floor. Digging into her pack, Debbie removed a covered Tupperware container, a stainless steel thermos, and two mugs. "I suppose you've had supper?" the girl questioned rhetorically. "I bet you haven't had dessert. You know what? I've been thinking about you for hours, so I baked you some 'homemade' cookies and made you some 'homemade' hot chocolate. Want some?" At first, I didn't answer. My eyes were glued to the exposed expanse of uncovered female flesh. The bib straps did little to conceal a flawless naked back and a set of curvaceous shoulders. I moved my position on the floor so I could get the swollen erection bulging inside my pants straightened out. "Debbie, in truth, I haven't had dessert," I managed to say. "Now, aren't you the little domesticated lady? Making 'homemade' cookies and hot chocolate for my dessert?" Laying out her bounty, Debbie winked at me and mischievously teased, "Oh Jason, the milk and chocolate are just and 'appetizer'. Here is what I really brought for you to 'eat' for a dessert treat." Slim fingers flipped the bib straps loose from their buttons. The bib top fell into the girl's lap. This young woman's tantalizing pair of ponderous boobs burst out and swung as free, as a couple of over-ripe pendulum nectarines hanging heavy on a fruit tree. Just as my startled eyes were adjusting to the majesty of this sight, the wickedly wondrous woman-child stuck her hands into the sides of her overalls and slid them down over her butt, her legs, and her feet. Confirming my suspicions, she had on no panties. Blushing shyly, the nude teenager scooted across to me and plopped her young ass in my lap. "Jason, I guess I wasn't completely truthful about 'stirring up trouble'," Debbie whispered. "I suppose I'm hoping you'll 'make love' to me again; and if you did I wanted to be naked myself." I touched her two marvelous tits, but could say nothing. "Oh god, Jason, please don't think of me as a wickedly wanton 'hussy'!" Debbie hastily added. "But Mister, I love you;and if you wanted to 'take' me again, then I'd really like you to. Of course now, if you want me to 'go away' again; I will. Do you?" I suppose it was my own damn fault for awakening the sleeping passion in this sexy young woman. This conniving vixen had boxed me into an inescapable lust and love trap. She was using her feminine wiles in a seductive entrapment scheme. My voiced boomed, "Damn your sweet sexy young ass, girl! If you try to 'go away' now, I'll throw you on the floor and rape the hell out of you! Hell, I think I'll savagely attack you anyway! If you want me to 'eat' you for a treat, then 'eat' you, I will!" Soft, luscious lips became the first victims of my desire. I kissed my Scout Leader lover with lust-inspired love. I was so fanatically aroused, I tongue-fucked her mouth with my stiffened saliva-coated tongue. Somewhere in the back of my kiss-hungry mind, I realized that Debbie was tongue-fucking my mouth, too. Debbie's fingers were tugging at the buttons of my shirt. Before I knew it, the shirt was off and lying atop her bib overalls. My pants, underwear, shoes, and socks joined the heaping pile of clothing. I'd made the mistake of getting my cock before the 'fucking-horse' earlier this day. I was determined not to repeat the error of my ways. Before I did any fornicating this night, I was going to do a lot of looking at tender young female flesh and I was going to have a feast of eating. Pushing Debbie down flat on the floor in front of the fireplace, I gazed in awe at the splendid beauty of her unblemished teenaged body. Her big-glorious tits had flattened out a bit. Her abdomen was a smooth expanse of slim, flawless flesh. Short, slender legs stretched out seductively. And there, right between the 'V' of my love's legs was a sparse bush of thin pubic hair, only slightly concealing a swollen mound of erotically exciting female pussy. Without waiting a second longer, I bent over, spread the girl's legs wide, and plunged my mouth into the tender young pussy staring me in the face. I viciously kissed the soft skin of her bush-covered pussy mound. I kissed and licked every delectable inch of feminine flesh from her thighs to her pussy lips. I spread the swollen pussy lips and captured the girl's clitoral jewel between my lips. I licked and sucked the rigid 'girlie-girl' treasure. Debbie's teen clit stiffened in an effort to accept my ferocious oral assault. My tongue flicked and licked feverously. I explored the young cunt with the spit-wet slippery wetness of my tongue and mouth. Sexually stimulated, pussy-hungry, and horny beyond belief, I cupped my tongue to stiffen it and plunged it into the hot-pink opening to Debbie's vaginal hole. This dame had reached the full age of puberty so her young female body produced an abundance of feminine moisture. I licked and lapped all the wetness I could get. Debbie was whimpering wantonly, and sighing contently. I ate my young lover's cunt with the appetite of a pussy-starved man. Sweet, warm, wet vaginal flesh wa

The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 1 Cookies & sweet treats are given to a 'special man'. Based on a post by MrJack, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time. Stepping from the shower, on this blustery cold November Saturday morning; I caught a reflection of my masculine nude body in the full-length mirror on the back of my bathroom door. I'd always wished I was taller than my 5 foot 10 inches, but I had no other regrets about the muscular build of my toned 36-year-old body. Unconsciously, my eyes lingered for a minute on the stiffened erection between my legs. It was another morning-wood day. The wind began howling in the past half hour, signaling a cold front. I thought the chilly house air would administer the less fun therapy for my stiffy, but even after stoking the fireplace coals and throwing three fresh logs on the embers, didn t fully shrink my swelling shaft. During my warm bath, my manhood had been swelling and getting harder. Now, as a confirmed bachelor, I had no 'serious' lady in my life. I enjoyed playing-the-field too much to even dream of settling down. The only problem with living without a permanent lady in my life was the fact that I couldn't get a piece of pussy any time I wanted. And, at this moment, I needed a sweet wet vagina in which to dip my pulsating erection. Hell, I guess I was going to have to settle for beating my meat! Before I had a chance to begin this self-relieving task, I heard the insistent ring of my front doorbell. Damnit, somebody was interrupting my plans for a little orgasmic release! Aggravated, I threw a bath towel around my waist, tucked it in below my bellybutton, and headed for the front door. If whoever it was ringing the bell minded being met by a half-naked man; then tough-shit to them! They ought to have better manners than to disturb a man with a throbbing hard-on. When I jerked open the door, I was met by a blustery blast of cold, late-fall wind. A whirlwind whisk of a figure, a young woman dressed in a Girl Scout Leader uniform, rushed inside and shut the door behind her. The shivering, coatless sprite took a few steps into the livingroom and held her hands out to the heat of my crackling fireplace. "Oh Mr. Spencer, this fire feels so good," she said. "I didn't realize the weather would turn so cold so quickly. Why, it was actually 'warm' this morning! I had no words. I'm Debbie Darling from down the street. I'm out taking orders for Girl Scout cookies. She finally took note of my incredulity and then asked; You know me, don't you, Sir?" Before I could respond, the young lady added, "Scout Leaders don't usually go door-to-door selling cookies. That's for the Girl Scouts themselves to do. But, I'm helping my troop out because a virus hit the schools and several of them are sick with a cold. I was a scout myself for years, and now I've just become a volunteer leader for a Brownie troop. Our recruitment slogan for girls and leaders this fall is 'commit to a girl'. Sir, can you commit to our girls and their organization? Do you want to get any of my cookies?" Commit to a girl? why I had no intention of doing any such thing! As for her cookies, goddamn my horny wicked soul to Hell, but my sex-stimulated mind took what the young woman said, and turned it into a 'dirty' thought. Yeah, some sweet, warm female 'cookies' would taste mighty good right now! Before I answered, my eyes made a quick visual inspection of my unexpected visitor. An official uniform scarf with a membership pin adorned her slim neck. A navy blue skirt and blouse in the style of business attire graced her body and seemed to fit the lady like a 'too-tight' glove. It must have been a 'last-years' outfit because the young female form was outgrowing it now. Feminine shapes and bulges stretched the fabric in several strategic places. The lady was short, perhaps a whole foot shorter than me. Slim legs peeked out below a blue hem and ran down to knee socks and patent leather shoes. If I was a betting man, I'd bet she didn't weigh over 100 pounds, a good portion of which was in her ass and tits. Her brunette hair was a mop of curly locks, which were so short they barely even touched her shoulders. With my stimulated erection straining my towel, I finally found my voice and answered, "Yes Debbie, I know you. I've seen you around the neighborhood. I think I've bought some cookies from you in the past years." Standing there half-naked and horny as hell, mischievous thoughts entered my mind and I decided to tease the young seductress arousing me, "But, little lady I remember you as a childlike girl. Just when in the hell did your body start 'filling out' so much? What are you, about 15, 16 or so now?" "No, I'm not 15 and I'm not 16!" the girl testily responded. Glancing at the watch on her tiny wrist, she continued, "I'm 18 and I've been 18 for two hours and five minutes! And, for your information Sir, I'm not a 'little girl'! I'm a freshman in college. As to your other question, it seems like my body just up and decided to 'pop out' all over the place this past year. I don't know why it took so effing long to do it. But Sir, I didn't come here to talk about me. I came to sell cookies. Do you want to place an order?" My mind wandered away in an effort to digest her information. "18 for two hours and five minutes" is what she said. Why, she has reached the legal 'age of consent' for any kind of sexual shenanigans a man might wish to engage in with her! My pretty little sexy neighborhood cookie-seller would fit nicely into the hallowed category of 'barely legal', yet 'legal enough'! Hell, I silently thought with my hard-on straining the bath towel around my waist. A lot of damn good this information would do me. Barely legal or not, that teenaged woman would have no interest or attraction for a man of my advanced age. I'd bet she had a teenage boyfriend. What was it the hippies use to say? Oh yeah, it was, "Never trust anyone over 30!" Shaking my head in an effort to rid it of horny seduction thoughts, I answered the fascinating young lady, "Yes little Debbie, I'd like some cookies. Could I get about ten dollar s worth? Girl, I'm horn, hungry as hell and I hate waiting for special treats. Would you have any cookies I could eat right now?" "Oh yes, Sir," Debbie eagerly said. "I've got some sample boxes in my backpack. I can let you have ten dollar s worth of chocolate mint cookies." While the girl rummaged in her pack, I stepped back into the bathroom and picked up my wallet. I gave a quick thought to slipping on my pants, but immediately discarded it. I had plans for a masturbating party real soon; with thoughts of a sexy young Scout Leader occupying my mind. Back in the living room, I noticed the boxes of cookies laid out on the coffee table. I dug a ten dollar bill from my wallet and handed it to the uniformed cookie salesgirl. "Oh, I forgot to tell you about the tax," the girl apologetically said. "Growing up, my Scout Leaders told me to always remember the tax. It's sixty cents more. Is that okay?" Smiling, I answered, "Sure little Debbie, that's fine. But, do you have change for a dollar bill. I don't have any coins in my wallet and I don't have any pockets in my towel." "I've noticed that," the girl unintentionally blurted out. A crimson red blush immediately colored her face and her hands rushed to cover it. Demurely, she added, "Oh, I didn't mean I was looking at your towel! Of course towels don't have pockets! Tight-fitting towels like yours barely have enough room to cover a man's big, uh!" The girl's face color reddened to a deeper shade of bashful blush. Turning away, she nervously dug into her purse and extracted some coins. She turned back and reached her trembling coin-filled hand towards me. As I reached out to accept the change, Debbie's unsteady fingers opened too soon and dropped the handful of coins onto the hardwood floor. The jingly-jangly coinage bounced and rolled all over the place. Dropping to the floor, Debbie chased after coins. Her sexy young body made for such a delightful sight to watch; that I too, dropped down and began gathering the wayward change. After capturing the last fugitive coin, the two of us stood back up. I soon discovered that my coin-chasing adventures had created a problem. My towel had loosened to the point that when I stood up straight the terrycloth garment had stayed on the floor. My upper body and my legs were now not the only parts of my body displayed in all its exposed erect glory. My thick, turgid cock was standing at naked attention! "Oh my good god!" Debbie unexpectedly exclaimed. "Mr. Spencer, I now see why your towel was stretched out to the bursting point! Oh my goodness gracious, you had better cover that thing back up!" I had never blushed in my life, and I was determined to not do so now. But, I admitted to myself that I was a little embarrassed to have accidentally exposed my pulsating erection to an unsuspecting young woman. Bending over, I snatched up the towel and rearranged it around my waist. "Debbie, girl I'm sorry!" I repentantly proclaimed. "Damn Miss Debbie, I didn't mean for this to happen and I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you!" "Well, I'm not exactly 'embarrassed', I don't think," Debbie said warily. "It just happened so suddenly I was unprepared to see your, your 'man-thing'. Mr. Spencer, what do you men prefer to call your 'man-things'? I've heard all the slang words, but since I've never talked to a man or boy about it, I'm pretty much uninformed about things like that. I've never even had the 'sex talk' with my mother. I guess for an 18-year-old woman, I'm pretty ignorant in the ways of men." A puzzling look covered my face, but I went ahead and answered the question she asked; "Miss Debbie, I prefer the word 'cock' as a name for the dangly appendage between my legs. A 'cock' gets elongated and hard when it's near a sexy lady. My cock is steely-hard right now because I

 The Demure Sex-Maniac WifeWhen Ed met Elena, he knew she had a few secrets.Based on posts by Total Turn On. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.As they say, it was a whirlwind affair.Marriage happened after just three months. Even our most cynical friends, tossing confetti over us as we left the register office, had to admit we were made for each other.The only person with any doubts was me.Not because I doubted our relationship. I knew Elena loved me; and I, her.I just doubted myself.Elena was not just out of my league. She wasn't even playing the same game.Don't get me wrong. I've fucked beautiful women. But often this was at the end of the night, as the club was clearing out. In simple terms, I'm not the kind of guy to be a first choice for women like Elena. My experiences had proved I was more of an acceptable second or third choice, depending on whatever else was available.I didn't complain.Those women whom I'd loved in the past, I had thought were beautiful, of course. But I knew the difference between what I appreciated, and what the rest of the world considered beautiful and sexy.Elena was both. She turned the heads of guys when she walked into a room. She made other women frown.I thought she was achingly beautiful, with a body designed by God to show others how good they can be.Ever had that jealous look from other guys, when you're with your woman? Yeah, I saw that a lot.Elena knew what she had, of course. But this is the best thing: She ignored it. She was vivacious, and fun to be around. Women might frown initially, but it was impossible not to like her, after a few minutes of talking to her.And I loved her from the moment I saw her profile on a dating app. She had just moved into the area, she had written. She had no friends. No boyfriend, even. Happy to meet people just to show her around. Or maybe more?I saw that that she'd selected hook-ups as a relationship option. That'd be nice, I guessed. But I didn't pay much attention to it.It would become important later.I swiped right. Astonishingly, she did too. We chatted. Flirted a little. I said I'd show her around her new town.And I did. We became tourists in our city. We agreed to meet on Lake Street and Wabash, near the El Train platform. Our walking tour focused on the Chicago attractions and historic attractions.At the end of the day we had a brief meal. And then, walked back to the train platform where several movies romanticized the city life. With a peck on my cheek by way of thanks, she caught the train back home, about 2 miles north.That, I thought, was it. A great day with a great woman. I took another train to the west, about 10 blocks.Great conversation. I should be happy for the opportunity. I'd give it the requisite day or two and then message her. But I wasn't optimistic.I'd barely been able to take my eyes of her amazing body, during our date. I began to enjoy walking behind her and watching her ass. I enjoyed sitting opposite her as we had coffee and catching occasional glances at her incredible cleavage, and imagining the dangling tits she had strapped in her thin bra.It was almost funny how outrageously sexual she was. She just had it, whatever it was. Sensuality oozed from her being.A Second Opportunity.Later that evening following our date, I had my cock in my hand and was scrolling through photographs on her dating app profile when a message appeared from her:"You’ve been a delightful escort, today. And a fine gentleman. Want to come over for some wine?"“Well, yes. I certainly would.”We didn't get to drink any wine. This became clear as soon as she opened the door with a smile that I'll never forget.She took my hand and led me upstairs.We undressed.And then we fucked. Hurriedly and hotly. I hadn't had pussy for a few months and, evidently, she hadn't had cock for some time, either.It was basic, missionary sex. There had been the presence of foreplay but, as my hand had explored her body, she had whispered in my ear: "Fuck me now."She came within less than a minute, and then again 30 seconds later. I filled the condom at the same time. We lay in the darkness until she said, "You know, this connection might become serious."We saw each other daily. I couldn't wait until my working day was over and we met up. We both worked near the Chicago River district.We fucked relentlessly. If she stayed overnight, I became used to being woken up by her tongue swirling around my cock. Sometimes we fucked in that lazy morning way, too. Sometimes she simply milked me with her mouth, greedily gulping down my sperm.And that's the thing. She was a natural when it came to sex. She just had skills. She knew exactly how to give somebody pleasure. To give me pleasure. And, to be fair. I knew how to return the favor. I woke her up some mornings with my lips against her soft pussy. I loved the taste of her. With my fingers inside her, fucking her wetness, I loved being in control of her orgasms. She loved my condominium. We had more privacy and liberty to fuck, than if I went to the apartment she shared with her co-worker.I'm getting ahead of myself.We fucked like all the couples do when they first meet. Nothing spectacular. Nothing acrobatic. Just enjoying each other's bodies. Fucking from behind, cowgirl, spooning...She was always keen to unexpectedly treat me by getting on her knees in front of me in any room in the house. I loved when, as we watched a movie in the evening, she slouched on the sofa and gave me access to explore her pussy with my tongue (I didn't want to watch the crummy movie, anyway!).And explore I did, taking my time, and making her cum into the double digits.We got married, as I've mentioned. She moved in.I thought I had won at the game of life.Nobody can complain about the intensity of an orgasm, but when you love somebody, the pleasure is multiplied a million times. Staring into the eyes of your soulmate as your head nearly explodes with pleasure, and you feel them pulsing against your cock as they feel the same thing, is surely one of life's ultimate offerings.I was hard whenever I saw her naked, unless my cock was still wet from her pussy; and at that point I was at least thinking about going again, even if my cock wasn't ready to respond yet.She matched me, move for move. She wanted all I could give her. More, maybe.For example, once we were getting ready to go out. She was pulling up her dress, with that always-funny difficulty of pulling the tight fabric over the rump of her peachy ass. Who doesn't love that?I sat back in bed, leisurely watching her, my hand idly stroking the achingly hard almost eight inches of my manhood.With a smile she ordered me to lie back, and then squatted on my cock and rode me until we both came.Then, and after wiping up my cum as it dribbled down her leg, she went back to getting dressed.But there was a problem.A Problem.Let me talk briefly about Chrissie.She was the one before Elena.Something similar to the above had happened. We'd been getting ready to go out. Chrissie had been putting on her underwear. I had been watching her from the bed, slowly stroking my cock.Chrissie had seen me. She too had smiled when, sitting in front of her dressing table, she had put the finishing touches to her lip gloss.But here's where things were different.I walked over to her, put my hand on the back of her head, and fucked her mouth. I told her to look up at me as I did so. Saliva dribbled from her mouth and, once or twice, she gagged as I pushed deep down her throat. It wasn't long until I came. I held her head as I pumped cum down her throat. I could feel her desperately swallowing.I pulled my cock out and she gasped for air. Saliva and sperm were dribbling out of her mouth and onto her generous tits."Fuck it, I'll have to do my make-up again!" she said. She certainly would. Her mouth was seriously messed-up and her eyes had been streaming.I slapped my cock against her cheeks, then pushed the tip against her lips. She licked the final drops of cum from my cock."What do you say?" I asked."Thank you," she said.Chrissie had been deeply submissive. In case it isn't clear, I am dominant.I'm not mad crazy about this side of me. I don't even define myself as being a sexually dominant guy. It's just something that arises during sex, and that I enjoy.In fact, my relationship with Chrissie had ended because I wasn't dominant enough.I didn't want to accompany her to BDSM clubs and flog her ass cheeks while others watched.Sometimes I just wanted a romantic evening with a cozy little fuck at the end.Nine times out of 10, Chrissie would say; “I want to be treated like the nasty slut I am."Folks, it was very, tiring. Chrissie was a freak. I wasn't.The Contrast of Elena.Back to Elena. Months into our marriage, and she had no idea of this side of me. Our sex had been; Straightforward. Fun, yes. Intense, yes. But nothing outside the scope of what most people consider ordinary, nowadays.To be frank, I didn't dare introduce this side myself to Elena. I couldn't risk losing her.Things were about to change.There were a few things that, well, had never quite added up about Elena.The first was that she was a woman without a past. It wasn't that she hid anything. But she had turned up in my town and, essentially, begun a new life. She had previously lived in San Diego.She did have boyfriends before me, of course. She talked about a guy called Alex. There had been a guy called Thomas, if I recall correctly.She'd lived with Alex for a few years. It was partly because of a breakup that she had moved. I didn't press her for details, of course. What's past, has passed, I thought. Or at least I did back then.The second thing that didn't quite add up was more serious.She didn't give up her dating app account after we started our relationship.About a month after we'd met, and were well into our relationship, I opened the dating app to

Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 2 My Wife’s Mob Kin Folk. Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1. Ditzy Donna and Ralphie's first Christmas. Based on a post by Kirk 48 2002, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. There was a crash in the living room and Paulie Toucan's head popped in the semi open door. "Hey you love birds, where you want the tree?" Three more heads looked around the door. Donna and I scrambled for our clothes. "Don't get dressed on my account," said the pickpocket. "Don't you believe in knocking? What broke out there?" I asked, shielding Donna from their gaze as she got decent. "Did something break?" asked the stupid looking one. "I heard something smash," I replied, pushing my way out to the living room. There was the tree, or part of the tree sitting in the room on top of my glass top coffee table that now was in a thousand pieces. The top part of the tree was still out the door in the hallway and out the common entry door. "I thought you said you were going to cut it," I said furiously. "We are. We needed to measure first. Okay boys, start measuring," Toucan said. "Why didn't you leave it outside until it was cut?" asked Donna, now fully dressed. "We're not gonna cut it outside and wake everybody up. That wouldn't be nice," said the one that looked smarter than he probably was. "Look what you did to my table!" I shouted. "Shush. you'll wake the neighbors," said Stupid. "We need to cut it right here," said the pickpocket, putting the measuring tape away. Toucan dug a circular saw out from under three and plugged it in. I didn't think it would be any louder than a vacuum cleaner, but I didn't count on it being one from hell. "What's this thing made of, it won't cut," shouted Paulie. He tried again and smoke started wafting up from the tree trunk, but as far as cutting it, not a scratch. "That's a new blade, I just put it on before we came over," screamed the smart looking one over the din. I noticed that we were getting an audience at the doorway. I looked outside and could see more and more lights going on the other buildings as the saw wailed on. Sure enough, one of our township's finest was suddenly standing in my place with his arms crossed. That's usually not a good sign. Paulie noticed the man in dark blue and said, "Hi Tony. You want to take a look at this thing. I can't get it to cut." "Shit, somebody called the cops," I complained. "Nobody called this in, I heard it, driving by." He turned his attention to Paulie. "Why are you doing this at three o'clock in the morning?" "This was supposed to be a one and done deal, as a favor to the little lady," he replied, pointing to Donna. "But it won't cut." He kicked the tree. "Let me see the thing," said Tony. "Pull the plug and get me a screwdriver. Who put the blade on this thing?" "I did," said the smart-looking one, all proud of himself. "You're an idiot," stated the cop, as if it were as plain as the nose on Toucan's face. See, I called that one. "You put it on backwards." Tony made the switch and said, "Plug it in and try that." Paulie tried again, and the saw cut through the tree like a hot knife through butter. "Hey, thanks Tony," said Toucan. "You done making noise now?" Tony asked. "Yep, all done," I said, wishing everyone would go away. Tony left, and eventually so did the crowd. Between the six of us, we managed to get the tree up, transfer the decorations, the lights, and clean up the shattered coffee table. Paulie asked the boys to wait for him outside and turned his attention back to us. "Sorry about the screw up, tonight. As far as the table goes, I'll find you another," he said to me. "Now young lady, is there anything else I can do for you, this morning?" "I was wondering. Do you have any idea where my dad is? I haven't heard from him since my mom and him split up. She says she doesn't have a clue where he is," she said, sounding depressed. "She doesn't? Huh," he replied, rubbing his chin. "I'll put out some feelers, and see what I can find out." "Thanks for even trying," said Donna, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "No problem. My pleasure," he said. Then he turned to me. "Try not to be such a douche bag," he said and left. I was tired; but before I headed to the bedroom, I looked at the tree. "It really turned out nice." "I knew it would," Donna said, stifling a yawn. "I'm going to bed." Attic Treasures and Tales. "Junior!" Pop shouted, breaking Ralphie's concentration. "Did you find the box of ornaments?" "Yeah Pop, here." he said handing the box down the ladder. "Your Mother will be relieved that you found it. What are you doing up here?" Ralph Senior asked. "You told me to go through all the boxes before we donate them. I found some of my old grade school stuff, and was looking it over, that's all." "Are these the boxes that are going to the Goodwill?" he asked, looking up through the hatchway. "Yeah, here you go," Junior said, passing them along to his dad. Settling back under the light, he continued to read. Christmas Eve. "Ralph get up!" I'd just closed my eyes. Why does my groin hurt? "Ralph, you promised to take me to the store so we could be first in line!" "What time is it?" I asked, trying to focus my eyes. "It's five-thirty, come on!" she said, shaking me. "Five-thirty...am?" "Come on, let's go!" she said, waving a cup of coffee under my nose. Last Day of shopping. It was still dark out when we stood in front of JC Pennys and it was cold. At least they were opening early. The parking lot was filling fast and the crowd was growing. I felt bad for whoever it was, that going to open that door. "I can't wait to get you your present," she said. "Don't go spending your money on me," I answered, watching my breath float away. "Are you kidding, look at this wad of cash," she said, waving her money in the air. "Put that away, are you nuts?" I barked, looking to see if anyone noticed. A short, balding man in glasses, was at the door. "Now, I want everyone to take it easy coming in," he shouted through the glass. "There's plenty of everything for everyone." He turned the lock and just barely made it out of the way as Donna and the crowd lunged forward. "Take your time!" he shouted, which had exactly the reverse effect. Checking Out. By nine o'clock, we were working on our second round of stuff, and Donna didn't seem to show any sign of slowing down. Everything she bought was on sale or closeout. She was very good at stretching a buck. "How much cash do you have?" I whispered into her ear. "About four-twenty," she answered. "Taxes killed me." "How much do you think is in here," I asked, meaning the carts. "If my math is right, about seventy five," she replied. "How much more do you need to get?" I asked, having lost track of this person, and that aunt. "I think I'm about done except for wrapping supplies," she replied. She loaded the second cart with wrap, bows, ribbon, tags, and tape and headed toward the checkout line. "I still have to get your present, that's going to require me doing it alone. If you want to, we can split up now." "Do you need the car?" I asked. "If it's okay with you," she replied. "Okay," I said. "I'll meet you out front in an hour. Is that enough time?" I asked, handing her money to cover my stuff in the carts. "Yep, I know what I'm getting." We parted ways and I headed right back to the coat section. Donna was still wearing the same coat and sweater that she wore in ninth grade and they were well past their prime. Thanks to my snooping, I knew her sizes, and soon I'd picked out a few blouses, and a new pair of jeans; to go along with the coat and sweater. They also had pajamas on sale, with matching robe and slippers. Perfect. I was set; and soon outside waiting for her. It was only a few minutes before she pulled up. "All done?" we asked in unison. I tossed the bag in the back seat and Donna drove us home. Wrapping Up and Sucking Off. I wasn't much help to Donna when we got home. I brought one load of gifts in, and flopped on the bed. I must have been dead to the world, because I never even noticed Donna lie down next to me, and cover us with a blanket. When I woke, Donna was an inch away from my face; snoring like a drunken sailor. As I glanced out the window, I noticed three things; One was that it was getting dark out, two it was snowing, and three, Paulie Toucan was waving at me on the other side of the glass. When he saw that he had my attention, he motioned to me to open the window. I did. "Hey Douche Bag, I got that table I told ya about," he said, then blow in his hands. "That fast?" I asked. "I told ya last night it was no problem. Different size packages fall off the back of trucks all the time. So, ah, ya gonna let us in, or do we just stuff it through the window?" he asked, shaking from the cold. I opened the front door, and he and Paulie Asshole carried it in. It was an elegant looking mahogany, glass top coffee table. It was a light year better than my old one. Words escaped me. "I don't know what to say." "Fuckin' figures," said Asshole. "There's no need to say anything, but a simple thank you would be nice, Douche Bag." Toucan said. "Thank you. Now, why do you keep calling me that?" I asked. "What?" asked Paulie Toucan, looking at Paulie Asshole as if he really didn't know. "You know, Douche Bag," I replied. "That's your name, isn't it?" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "No, it's Ralph." "I thought it was his name," he said; and turned toward Asshole, "Didn't you think it was his name?" "Yeah, I thought it fuckin' fit him perfect," Asshole replied. "Well, I hate to break up this magic moment here, but we got to get back to the tree lot. Say hello to your sweetheart for me; and tell her I passed on the word about her pop," and out they went. After admiring my new table, I went to check on Donna. She was sitting up on the bed wanting to know what was going on. I told her about t

Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1. Ditzy Donna and Ralphie's first Christmas. Based on a post by Kirk 48 2002, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. "I really did used to like the holidays," grumbled Ralphie Persons Junior; as he rubbed the same spot on his head that he'd whacked several times in a row on the same slanted ceiling beam. It was the first weekend in December, and he was crawling around the attic, looking for boxes of holiday decorations, that his mother wanted hauled downstairs and put up, the day after Thanksgiving. Having just started his first term at community college, Ralphie Jr. managed to dodge that bullet by complaining that he had a couple of papers due in English Composition and Early American History. The papers being due the Monday after Thanksgiving was true, but he'd left out the part that they were already finished. With a mighty grunt, he shoved a box of Easter lawn decorations aside and hit his head again. That time he saw stars. "If she wants them down so bad, why doesn't she do it?" he grumbled louder to himself. "Because she's more than twice your age, she doesn't like to hit her head, and she's got you to do it," said Ralph Sr., looking like a disembodied head sticking up, out of the floor of the attic. "Now, if you're done complaining, I'm sure you've got some boxes to come down; so pass them to me and I'll take them down the ladder for you." That suited Ralphie just fine, because trying to balance the boxes as he slid out the access hole, and then find his footing on the ladder; was no easy chore. He pushed what he already had found, toward the opening and looked for more. After hitting his head once more, he was convinced he'd found them all. "I think that's it, Pop." "You're missing the box with the tree ornaments," came his mom's voice through the access way. Ralphie took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Alright mom, I'll keep looking," Jr. said, sounding a bit miffed. Actually sounding a lot miffed. "We're gonna go and start setting up the outside lights and blow up characters," said his Pop through the hatchway. "That'll keep us out of your way a while and let you blow off some steam. I don't want you saying something to your mother the wrong way and have you regret it later." "Okay," sighed Ralphie, nodding his head as his Pop disappeared down the hatch. He took a long look around the attic and didn't see a box marked ornaments, so he decided to straighten and organize the entire loft by opening each box and marking them. He found that some of the boxes had his old clothes that he wore in grade school."Why doesn't she get rid of this stuff?" he thought to himself. Then he chuckled."If she's waiting for grandkids she's got a long wait." He didn't really have a girlfriend but his parents thought he did. For some reason they both kept pushing the idea of him and the girl he took to the prom, Louise Johnson, as being a couple."A couple of dorks," he thought. Actually, he did take Louise AKA 'Looney Louise,' out on a few dates during the summer. She was kind of funny and interesting, but her shenanigans and her perpendicular hair, far outweighed the positives, except for her tits. "Whew," Jr. said, shaking his head at the thought of them. He remembered when she showed them to him, and he started to daydream. Double Feature. They were in the back of the movie theater and she was jamming popcorn in her mouth. He saw that she had as much 'fruit of the Redenbacher' on her shirt as she still had in her trough of popcorn. "I think you better do something," he said, pointing in the general direction of her breasts. She put the bucket under her boobs and pushed the lucky kernels back in causing her breasts to bounce several times. "There, better?" Other than a few genuine imitation butter stains she was all clean. She settled back in her seat and shifted around a bit almost slumping, forcing her breasts up and out. Between the seat in front of her and her tits in her face, Ralphie didn't think she could see the screen. He didn't realize he was staring at her, until her eyes slowly turned toward him. "Imagination running wild?" she whispered, placing her trough of corn on the floor. "I bet you've got a hundred different visions of what they look like, going on in your head. What do you think they look like?" Ralphie sat there with his mouth agape. "Oh come on. Maybe they're perky, droopy, hard, or soft. Maybe they have veins all over them. Maybe my nipples are large like acorns, small like cherry pits, or even big and puffy," she whispered, encouraging him in her game. Ralphie still sat there with his mouth agaip. She sighed. "No idea, huh? Okay," she said, unbuttoning her blouse down to her navel and unclasping the front hook on her bra. She snapped them open and said, "Behold!" Attic of Family Artifacts. He was startled out of his obcessions by his father's strong voice."Junior, did you find them yet?" his Pops voice said from the hole. "No, I decided to go through everything while I was up here. By the way, why is Mom saving all my old clothes? Some of this stuff goes back to first grade," he yelled loud enough for his Pop to hear. "I don't think she's actually saving it. It was more like putting winter or summer clothes away till next year but you grew out of them and they just didn't come back down. Mark those boxes 'Donations', slide them toward the hatch, and we'll get them down the road to the Goodwill later. Just make sure you go through every box you want to donate to make sure there isn't anything important in them," yelled Pop. "Okay," Ralphie yelled back. Thinking back to Louise, as he continued his work, it reminded him that he hadn't heard from her since she went out west to college. She didn't come home for Thanksgiving, and he wondered if she was coming around for the Christmas break. Several times, he thought to call to just say hello; but she didn't have a cell phone, (something about messing up her brain waves). He didn't have any idea exactly where she was staying out there; so that was that. Eventually, Ralphie found the ornaments and pushed them toward the hatch. The other holiday decorations were neatly stacked by which event came next on the calendar; and all that was left was for him to go through the boxes he marked 'Donations'. Most had nothing but clothes in them and a few had some old grade school projects in them like a Thanksgiving turkey made from a tracing of his hand. He put that kind of stuff aside for safekeeping and opened the last box. Under some toddler clothes, he found some folders and spiral wire-bound notebooks that belonged to his Pop. The folders contained some receipts and warranties for products long gone. Like that fax machine, and the Commodore Computer. The wire bound notebooks had some recipes and newspaper clippings about people his parents knew. One of the books had some writing in it, kind of like the notebook he'd found in the garage that spring. He flipped through it and saw some of those same magic words he'd seen in the last book like, 'boobs and tits'. That was dad's old email password for his AOL account. On the first page, it had a header and a title: "Journal:Thursday, December 26, 1974." "Christmas With the Ditz" Ralphie settled himself under the dangling light and pulled the string to turn it on. "Okay Pop, entertain me," he said as he began to read... Dating Donna. It's been two weeks since she came back into my life. Donna. Ditzy Donna. I figured I'd write this down while it's still fresh in my mind. It's been kind of a crazy two weeks but what other kind would it be with her? She made the decision not to move in permanently with me until she found a job to help contribute. The job hunt took exactly fifteen minutes when she walked two blocks to Kiddie City and landed a job demonstrating toys. That sure took a stretch of imagination to see her potential as a goof-ball playing with toys for kids. At least she didn't have to go too far for the party favors she wore out on a regular basis. Her smock was always loaded down with a usual assortment as well as her favorite, a pair of Groucho glasses. The guy that hired Donna remembered her from somewhere in the past and gave her a huge starting rate. Most people started at two dollars and hour but he gave Donna six. I'm still a little jealous of that, considering I've worked for the same place since junior high school and don't make much more than that. By Wednesday of her first week, the manager realized he had a goldmine with her and worked her as long as she wanted. When they closed Saturday night, they gave her a paycheck for sixty-four hours at $6.00 an hour plus overtime, plus a hundred-dollar bonus for a job well done. The boss even cashed the check for her. Suddenly Donna was a rich ditz with the next day off and Christmas coming a few days later. On that Saturday night, the 21st, the true meaning of Christmas started to come shining through: Love, generosity, and ditzyness. Shopping Spree. I heard the door slam and came out of the bedroom. "Look," yelled Donna, fanning her riches out in front of me. "They could be all ones," I said, standing on the other side of the room. She bunny hopped herself over to me and flapped the fanned greenbacks in my face. Nope, they were all twenties and tens and as crisp as the day they were made. "We got to go shopping," she said, slurring her words from a dollar induced high. I looked at my watch and said, "It's nine-thirty, everything's closed." She crossed her eyes and gave me a Bronx cheer. "It's the Saturday before Christmas! Everything is open until midnight!" "You said you wanted to go out to eat tonight. We can't shop and eat at the same time," I said. Donna suddenly looked very disappointed. "Come on, Ralph. I worked real hard this week for this," she said, letting her fist full of dollars flop down to her side. It was immediately covered by her six-inch too lo

Andrew’s Delightful Attributes. The women in Andrew’s life, are getting frisky. Based on a post by Meow 5 meow. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Mom catches Andrew Solo. Eliza woke up to her Saturday morning and rolled over to look at her clock, it said 9am, which was an hour before she usually rose. She knew Andrew would already be up because he was an early riser; like his father had been. So she pulled a robe around herself and headed downstairs quietly. When she entered the kitchen there was no one there, she checked around the house but didn't see him. Still sleepy she let the mystery and worry go and made herself some coffee and a bagel. She finished her breakfast quickly because felt a little uncomfortable with the dead silence in the house. She wondered where her son went. He tended to be pretty active in the mornings but didn't usually leave the house till he saw her. Some mornings Andrew would work out in the garage, but that was not where he was this early morning. She didn't see a note around anywhere, so she went back upstairs, to check her phone. Maybe he texted her before he left the house? Eliza didn't feel any urgency yet, just mild curiosity as she went back up the stairs. On this pass through, she purposely looked at Andrew's bedroom door for signs of life. It was half open, quiet and dark inside. Suddenly Eliza believed her son must still be in bed, and she stepped over and gently pushed his door further, opening the room up to her view. Suddenly she could see Andrew sitting at his desk, against the far wall, with headphones on. "Oh." Eliza uttered quietly, feeling silly for her worry. Of course he was in his room. Andrew hadn't noticed her behind him. He was just sitting there, staring at the screen and moving his shoulder. Eliza finally looked at the screen to find an up close view of a naked woman's body, and saw her shaved cunt being fucked by a pale pink cock. She gasped and her eyes locked onto the porn her son was watching. For a least a minute she just stood there watching her son beat off. Minutes went by and she didn't move. “Is my cock bigger than Dad’s?” Andrew asked the Milf in the video. The video zoomed out and she could see the actors going at it. Her mouth dropped open. The actress was tall and blonde, like she was. And curvy with the same hairstyle as Eliza. The actor fucking her was young and superficially like Andrew too.  It was obvious Andrew had picked this video as a fantasy for him and her together. Eliza closed her mouth, blinking in the quiet that was only broken by the soft fleshy fapping sounds of her son's hand on his cock and his ragged breathing. At the same moment her own nipples tightened and her clit pulsed and began to inflame her sex. She was responding to the idea that her son was fantasizing about having sex with her. Her hand slid up the door jam and she tried to control her breathing and slow down her strong physical reaction. Her son was just stepping up his, though; arm jerking faster and tiny whimpers spilled out of his lips. She felt scared, not willing to take one step farther in his room. Shame rearing up to scream at her, for watching and responding; and feeling any sort of urge when it came to Andrew. She gripped the door knob and backed up a step, fully intending to flee this very moment. As her shoulders turned away from his room, she heard her son utter words that slammed into her like a freight train. "Yeah mom... you love my cock too.. Don't you?" Eliza swiftly retreated from that spot and went into her private bathroom and locked the door. Her heart was racing and panic leaking into her brain Eliza slumped down on her shaggy toilet seat cover and spread her legs. With fingers over her panties she explored her sex and shivered at her sensitivity, with a broken little sob she snaked her fingers under the waistband of her panties and glided over her drenched clit. It frightened her how quickly and feverishly she had responded to what she had seen. It was so utterly wrong. As she teased her clit, her brain tried to rationalize it. Masturbation is a natural thing, she told herself.  And it's Andrew's private business. Plus, mother-son fantasies are just a phase that young men grow out of quickly. Her own sensual reaction is just a sensitivity caused by not having had sex in a while, and her libido is just easily triggered. All normal and no way shameful; unless acted upon. It would never be acted upon. Eliza took a hot shower, and imagined her son fucking her in missionary position, looking him right in the face, as his cock pumped firmly in and out of her. Of kissing him; he was so handsome! It set her right over the edge and she moaned loudly, helpless to the overwhelming sensation of a strong orgasm. Her bare feet pressed against the tile floor of the double shower, and her hips rocked as she prolonged her pleasure. After a few minutes to breath dried off again and intended to get dressed. When she walked into her room to her closet she felt a wet sensation, looking down she saw that her juices had leaked down her leg, nearly to her knee. Which had never happened before in her life. Back to the bathroom to clean up, and then she began to put herself together and get ready for the day. She emerged from her room to an empty hallway and a closed door to her son's bedroom. At some point he had closed it, which made her wonder if he'd caught her. But she didn't think so. Eliza just tried to act normal and walk down the stairs and into the kitchen, to grab her purse and keys. She had a few errands to do. She intended to just leave him a note and avoid him until her awkwardness faded. But he was sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal and texting with one hand. He looked up with his usual smile to say good morning to her. His face happy and relaxed; and not anxious at all. She just faked it and said good morning and made another cup of coffee for herself. Andrew wouldn't have any idea that she had already had one, today. As she stirred her sugar into her coffee Andrew came up behind her and reached around her to turn the sink on and rinse his bowl. He was standing way closer than he needed to, and it made Eliza's skin crawl. She hadn't ever noticed Andrew purposely invading her personal space until now. That he might possibly have a motive behind it, not just casual familiarity. He was pulling a power move that men love to make in bars, where they use the excuse of a busy bar to invade your space and get noticed, get close to you, even smell you. Reaching an arm passed you to hail the bartender but really to hail the lady's attention. If she notices and is interested she starts the conversation, if she doesn't then he will push on with an opening line. "Hey mom, you feeling alright?" He pushed. Eliza paled and hesitated trying to abolish her train of thought. "Of course, why?" "Well, you're stiff as a board." Now that he said something, she noticed, slumping her shoulders and trying to ease her own tension she let out a tiny nervous laugh and focused on herself for a moment and a small lie. "You are so right, I woke up with some back pain today, maybe I will take some Advil." He nodded and moved past her to pick up his phone and slide it in his pocket. "Hey mom,I am going to head over to Peter's, we are gonna work on his car." Eliza nodded quickly, "That's great, I am going to go run some errands and I will pick you up for dinner if you aren't home before me." They both headed for the front door and he opened it and stepped into the doorway making her squeeze passed him. Eliza was so determined not to be awkward that she fell into his trap and ended up brushing the front of her body with his. It was only when she felt the contact on her nipples did she realize what he had done. Then Eliza made another mistake and looked him in the eyes. He was staring at her with smoky bedroom eyes and a smirk tugging at his lips. Another sexy freight train mowed her down and her eyes almost crossed. "You're blushing mom." In complete panic she ditched the situation and sped off towards her car. "Bye Andrew, text me later!" Hopped in her car, started it and zoomed off as quick as she could. Leaving her laughing son behind her. Andrew had accepted his feelings towards his mother recently, and with it a sense of taboo had settled in to stoke that sexual fire inside him. Lately he had wanted to tell his mother about it but knew that she could never agree. That a fight like that might end up with him out of the house. Maybe with her cutting him out of her life, the idea of which terrified Andrew. But he couldn't resist showing her in tiny ways that he wanted her. This morning was as bold as he had ever tried and she had obviously noticed this time. Which is the first time she so obviously had. It was so exciting that he was standing on the front porch with a boner in his jeans. Andrew just turned around went back in the house and gently closed the door, headed to his room and freed his cock. And relived the events of the past 10 hours. Here’s the way he retells it; I only wanted a glass of water, I often woke up and got one in the middle of the night. But as I came down the dark staircase, I can see over the backrest of the couch, that my mom lying on the couch, watching TV still, at two in the morning? At first, I thought she was just sleeping, until she flopped over from her side to her back while lying out on the couch. The room was dark, except for the glow from the TV screen. Her eyes were closed and her face was tense, I almost asked her if she was all right;  but the words died on my lips. Her hand was shoved inside her thin pajama shorts, and she was rocking her hips. The smallest moan spilled from her mouth. I was frozen, my eyes locked onto the sight of her. I even had the perfect view from near the top of the stairs which let me see right over the couch. With the hand she wasn't using insid

My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 2 I was asked to Fill In For Her Husband? Based on a post by MaryAnderson. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. A few days later I was at the Hollins' house when Jennie's phone pinged. She opened the message, read it, read it again, pumped her fist and said, "Yes! Whitman scheduled me for an interview, but crap, it's next Friday. Mom, that's your birthday." Whitman was Jennie's dream college, the one she had no chance of getting into. Still, the assistant director of admissions had been a fraternity brother of Mr. Hollins, not one Mr. Hollins had been close to, but perhaps, maybe. Mr. Hollins was to go with Jennie to the interview, see if he could influence the decision. Mrs. Hollins said, "Honey, when you're in you late thirties your birthday is not that big a deal. And, in any case, we weren't planning to do anything as a family until Saturday." Jennie said, "But still Mom, it's your birthday. Dad and I can't leave." Mrs. Hollins said, "Of course you can, I'll find something to do." Jennie looked at me with expectant eyes and I said, "Look, Mrs Hollins; with your daughter out of town I'll be foot loose and fancy free. Let me take you out. We'll do something different, something you wouldn't normally do." Jennie said, "That's a great idea Mom, and I know just the place. There's a club not too far from campus. It has a mixed crowd, not just students." Mrs. Hollins said, "I don't know, you sure you want to go out with an old lady Michael?" "What old lady, you bringing a friend? With Jennie out of town you'll be the finest woman around." Mrs. Hollins said, "What, I'm not as hot as my daughter?" Jennie said, "Mom, you and I will pick out something for you to wear, show my boyfriend exactly how hot you can be." We ran it, well at least the general concept, by Mr Hollins; he said it was an excellent idea. Date With Her Mom. "Happy birthday Mrs. Hollins." I handed her a half-dozen roses. While a cliche, it was always appreciated. Eyes spread wide, she kissed my cheek and said, "They're beautiful. Please come in." And while her eyes had spread wide, they were no match for mine. Mrs. Hollins' red dress snugly fit her slender form; her modest tits were held perfect in the built-in cups. The back was open; there were no straps, just a tie around the neck. And, as I followed her into the house, I focused on her ass; it formed an impeccable bump in the back of the dress. And the shoes: red stiletto heels that buckled around the ankles. The dress screamed fuck me, the shoes hollered the same thing, and later her moves on the dance floor would be exclamation points. If it was going to happen, it would happen tonight. I was going to make my, and Jennie's fantasy come true: I'd fuck her mother. In the living room she handed me a glass of wine, put the flowers in a vase, studied them, moved one flower half-an-inch, another a quarter-of-an-inch, leaned forward, took a long whiff, chin in hand studied them, moved two more flowers, and said, "They're lovely, and you're sweet and thoughtful." She kissed my cheek. Her perfume was light and airy. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and said, "I can see why my daughter's so enamored with you." "A beautiful woman deserves beautiful flowers, and you look spectacular. Jennie asked for pictures." I took several of her, then several of us together, my arm around her shoulder, her arm around my waist. Jennie texted, said we were a good looking couple, instructed me to show her Mom the time of her life. I held the door of my newly cleaned jalopy for her, then her chair at the hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant where we'd never run into any of her crowd. She asked my advice, ordered it, complimented my choice. We shared dessert, then went to the club. We danced fast, danced slow, and later, as I drove her home, she leaned her body into mine. I handed her a glass of wine as she moved a couple of the flowers, moved them back, moved one other, and said, "That's better, it's been bothering me all night. What do you think?" I said, "I think you've got it," held my glass up. "To you, on your birthday." Touching her glass to mine she said, "To a wonderful evening, I can't remember a better time. Why don't you put on some music, come sit with me. I need to get off my feet, it's been years since I danced in stilettos." "Well, every guy there would vote in favor of you doing it again." "Michael, are you flirting with me?" "Just getting started." Mrs. Hollins sat, then took off her ruby heart-shaped earrings/ She lay them on the table next to the couch. I put on some soft jazz, said, "Foot rub?" she said, "I'd like that," and I sat on the far end of the couch as she pirouetted until her back rested on the arm and her feet were in my lap. I unbuckled her shoes, laid them on the floor, worked her feet; we chatted, she drank her wine. When her phone pinged she signaled me to keep working, picked it off the coffee table, held it up. It was Jennie on FaceTime. She then turned it back towards her and said, "Hey babe, how'd the interview go?" "Not good. The guy from Dad's frat was away on a family emergency. I ended up with a guy who had no idea who I was, who hadn't reviewed my file. It was a milk run, not an interview. But enough of me. Happy birthday, did you have fun?" "I'm sorry to hear that honey. And yes, your boyfriend showed me a wonderful time. I haven't danced like that in years. He's rubbing my feet right now." "He gives good foot rub Mom. I want to talk to both of you." Moving her feet off my lap, Mrs. Collins slid down the couch and leaned her body on mine. My girlfriend was sitting-up in bed, her back resting on the headboard, a blanket pulled across her chest. Her shoulders were bare. Was she wearing any clothes? "You taking good care of Mom, sweetie?" "Trying." "Good, give Mom a birthday kiss from me." Mrs. Collins turned her head, I brushed my lips on hers. Jennie said, "Come on, you can do better than that." Mrs. Collins, holding the phone in one hand, turned her shoulders, wrapped slender strong fingers on the back of my neck, pulled me towards her, ran a hand down my side, kissed me. Her lips moved on mine, mine on hers; I was as hard as a rock. Jennie said, "That's much better. Now you two don't stay up too late, and sleep soundly. Love you both." Mrs. Hollins clicked off the phone, slid it onto the coffee table, rotated towards me, said, "My daughter's text said she left me a pretty present. Do you know what she was talking about? " "Not sure, but I'd hate for you to be disappointed. Are there any boxes lying around?" She said, "No," and started unbuttoning my shirt. Then added, "Could she have meant you?" "Maybe, should we call and ask?" "No, she was already in bed, we wouldn't want to wake her. We'll assume I'm right and check with her in the morning." She undid several more buttons, opened my shirt, ran her hand on my chest, said, "Nice," then finished unbuttoning and slid off my shirt. Next she pulled my undershirt over my head, ran her hands on my chest, teased my nipples with her perfect nails, said, Good body, do you know how to use it?" "Jennie doesn't complain and she's not one to hide her opinion. In fact, she's quite uninhibited, there's this game we play where she pretends to be you." "Yes, I saw on the boat. Do you like this game, Michael?" “On the boat?” Mrs. Hollins was now running her nails in circles around my nipples, it was hard to concentrate. “Oh yeah, the boat.” "Very much." I said. She kissed the top of my chest; I slipped a hand inside her dress, stroked a small firm breast with the side of my thumb. "So, should I pretend to be my daughter?" I rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger. "No, Mrs. Hollins. I've wanted you since I first saw you. But I'm sure every boyfriend of Jennie's must have. Why me?" I let go of her nipple, slid my hand up her leg, dragged a fingertip along her pussy slit, worked it around her panties, then sank it inside her. Her tone was seductive as she said, "Maybe because of the happy bounce in my daughter's step when she's been with you. Maybe because you're the only one who admitted it. Maybe because I know you love my daughter and will keep this to the three of us. Maybe because you turn me on." Her hand on my chest moved lower, tracing the muscles of my stomach, and she brought her lips to mine. Her kiss was powerful, and intense. I pushed a second, then a third finger inside her, twisted them, moved them in and out, listened to her soft moan. "I love the way you touch me." Rocking my fingers inside her I worked her clit with my thumb, a teasing circular motion. Her hips moving with me I tugged the tie around her neck and the dress fell from her chest; Mrs. Hollins gasped when chilled air met flushed breasts. I considered taking Mrs. Hollins into my arms and heading for the bedroom, but I wanted it to be a long-term thing, best to give her the full treatment. I covered her right breast, caressed the firm flesh; her nipple throbbed, stiffened. Then, her head on my shoulder, she said, "It's time to unwrap my present," undid my belt and button, unzipped me, pushed a hand inside. "Very nice, thick and fat." Holding her to me I moved my fingers in her cunt, a little faster, a little harder, and rocked my thumb on her clit. The intensity of her moans increased and she was soon jabbing her hips into my hand. I'm going to fuck you, Mrs. Hollins." "Hmm." "Like I fuck your daughter." "Um Hmm." "Fuck you until you can't see straight." "Hmm." "Like I fuck your daughter." "Ah Hmm." "I'll dick you to your heart's delight." "M." "And no one will know, they'll just think I'm balling your daughter, but I'll be balling you." "Um Hmm." "That's what you want isn't it?" "Mmmmnnnnnmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." "Isn't it." "M Hmm" "Say it." "I, I, I..." "Say it." She bit my shoulder and said, "Yes Michael... Um, that's... hmm, what... Um, I want

My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 1 Hot Mom, hot daughter, is anyone complaining? Based on a post by MaryAnderson. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It's not often you meet a mother who's better looking than her good-looking college-age daughter. I remember the first time I saw them. I'd moved to San Diego immediately after graduating from high school. While I wouldn't begin my freshman year until September, I'd found a decent job and I needed the money. As a side benefit my employer provided membership at a fancy local gym, one I couldn't have afforded. I was doing chest presses when a class got out in an upstairs studio. About two dozen women and a smattering of guys came down the stairs followed by several women talking animatedly to a striking rail-thin brunette. Standing next to her was a younger woman with the same color hair and same impressive build. Both wore skin-hugging leotards identical in style, although differing in color. As the knot of women moved across the room I overheard enough of the conversation to understand the older woman had been leading a pilates class. After their entourage dispersed the two women lingered at the front counter talking to the attendant when the younger one noticed me checking them out. Busted, I gave her my best you-caught-me grin. She smiled, said something to the older woman, who turned, held my gaze for a beat, before returning her focus to her companions. A few minutes later, they left. After finishing with the weights I went to the front desk. The older woman was Theresa Hollins; she taught several classes at the gym. The younger one was her daughter Jennie, a high school senior. The attendant made it clear I wasn't the first guy who'd asked about them. I checked the schedule; Theresa would lead a steps class in a couple of days. Enrolling in class. I was hanging downstairs when they came through the front door. They certainly didn't mind being identified as mother and daughter, they looked alike, styled their hair the same way, although Jennie's was longer, and their leotards were differently colored variations of each other. I introduced myself, Mrs. Hollins introduced herself and her daughter, said she hoped I'd enjoy the class. I soon found out that not only did they look alike, they shared the optimistic up-beat positive personality associated with aerobics instructors and were, as they appeared to be, in superb condition, pushing everyone, encouraging everyone, leaving all but a few in the dust. After class, along with several others, I walked downstairs with Theresa and Jennie, offered to treat them to bottles of water after the crowd peeled away. Theresa declined, said she had an errand to run, told her daughter she could swing by on the way home and pick her up. Jennie said sure, she could use a drink. Two days later we shared a bed. Not too long after that, for the first time in my life, I told a woman I loved her. I'd never been one for classes at health clubs, preferring to work-out with a buddies or on my own, but couldn't see how to stop going without offending Mrs. Hollins and if it gave me an excuse to watch my girlfriend and her hot mother covered in thin veneers of sweat stretching and straining in skin-tight leotards, who'd say no to that? Dating Life. We'd been seeing each other for about six weeks when, holding Jennie in the spoon position - we'd just rocked each other's worlds on my one-room apartment's undersized bed - she said, "You think my mother's hot, don't you?" There was no point in denying it. Jennie and her Mom surely knew and neither seemed offended; Mrs. Hollins had been enthusiastic about my dating her daughter from day one. "Yeah, it's clear you come by some of your good looks naturally." "Some?" "As hard as you and your Mom work-out, there's a lot of sweat and dedication there." Bringing my hand to her mouth she kissed it and said, "Nice rescue," then, smiling indecipherably, looked over her shoulder. I said, "What?" "The guys I've known, they all think Mom's hot. Most look at her furtively, sneakily, thinking they're slick, that we don't notice, but we do. Then there's the guys who stare and drool, not cool. There are a few, I don't know if they have more or less control, who look away even when they should be looking at her, like they don't know how to handle it. You're different. You don't take creepy little looks, but when you have a reason to look you do and don't seem to feel weird about it. Plus, you're the first one to admit it." I didn't say that, in addition to having a thing for hot younger women like her, I had a thing for hot older women, that I'd bedded a few back home. Instead, since it was clear that not only didn't it bother her, but that she dug it, I said, "Yeah, I like looking at your Mom. Why do you bring it up, interested in a threesome?" Laughing she said, "What makes you think I do women, and why are guys fascinated by threesomes, especially mothers and daughters?" Making a mental note; she hadn't said no or gotten offended. I said it must be some kind of biological or evolutionary imperative, and avoided the first question by kissing her. She kissed me back, reached for my dick. Soon I was driving into her, shaking the flimsy bed, and she was totally into it, writhing, moaning, clutching my back, digging her fingers into me. Not that she wasn't always into it, but if I wasn't missing something this time more than ever. The conversation about her mother had turned her on. The overture. My phone rang, no name appeared. I thought about letting it roll to voice mail, but there was something familiar about the number, then I got it. It was one digit different from Jennie's. "Hello." "Hey Michael, it's Theresa. Jennie gave me your number, we figured it'd be okay." "I never complain about a beautiful woman with my phone number. What can I do for you?" After a moment's hesitation, but no objection, she said, "Jennie's talked about you so much that her father wants to meet you. Can you come to the house for drinks, then we'll go to dinner." "Sounds fine, when?" "Sunday at 7:00." "I'm open, where are we going?" "Morgan's." I checked Morgan's on-line. Coat and tie? I didn't own a coat and tie and my bank account was in no shape to buy them. While looking up the local consignment shops I realized I didn't have Jennie's home address; we'd always met in town. I considered texting Jennie, but pleased by the tone of my conversation with Mrs. Hollins, called her back. "Hello Michael." She'd saved my number to her phone's memory. "Hey good looking, I just realized I don't have your address." After a pause she said, "What if I told my daughter you called me 'good looking' and asked for my address?" "Jennie and I are in complete agreement about her mother's good looks. Is she there?" "Yes, should I get her for you?" "Only after a little more flirting." "You are bad." "I only get worse, now what's the address?" "I'll text it to you, here's my daughter." As she moved the phone from her mouth I heard, as she intended, her say "Your very bad boyfriend is on the phone. Tell him he needs a cold shower." Double Date Night. It was my first trip to the suburbs. After checking in with the rent-a-cop at the subdivision's front gate I drove my jalopy down shaded streets, waiting to get pulled over. It looked like only shiny new Mercedes, BMWs, Cadillacs, and Lexus, with an occasional Porche or Maserati, were legal in this neighborhood. My phone led me to a circular driveway at the end of a cul de sac. Nice house. I parked behind a black Range Rover, got out, rang the bell, wondered about Jennie's father. Jennie talked about her Mom all the time - they were more best friends than parent and child - but rarely mentioned her father. When she did it was positive, but bland, a vague assurance that he was "okay." Still, I'd imagined him as a bookend for his wife and daughter: tip-top condition, good-looking, smart and incisive. Jennie opened the door, kissed my lips, said, "Hey lover, ready to meet the family." She looked great. Her loose fitting dress, held on by spaghetti straps, dipped down her chest, stopping just short of her cleavage, clinched at the waist, then hung to the floor in a series of graceful folds. What was most striking, however, was the cascade of colors, oranges and yellows, greens and blues, imposed on patterns of butterfly wings. I said, "That's a lovely dress," she slipped her hand into mine, and turning, the bottom of the dress swirling about, we headed into the house. In the living room, large, cathedral ceiling, gorgeous furniture, ceiling to floor back window overlooking a swimming pool, was Mrs. Hollins, her dress also long, open shouldered, loose-fitting and a rainbow of colors: chartreuse, pink, magenta. And while neither dress was overtly sexual, this particular mother and daughter presenting themselves in public dressed alike was. And, as meticulous as they were about their appearance, that was no accident. I said, "Mrs. Hollins, you're stunning, your dress, like your daughter's, is beautiful, love the colors." Mrs. Hollins said, "Thank you," adding as a man entered the room, "Michael, this is my husband, Tom. Tom, this is Michael, Jennie's beau." Contrary to my expectations he did not match his wife and daughter. He was his wife's height, or possibly a bit shorter, at the moment her heels gave her an inch or so on him, and if not fat, was pudgy. Saying, "It's good to finally meet you sir," I reached for his hand and studied his face. His features were affable, not those of your best friend - him you'd want smart and tough, someone who had your back - but friendly, the face of a guy who got along with everyone, liked everyone, a you wouldn't ask to cut another $250.00 off the price of a car because you wanted him to come out okay and knew he'd never rip you off. And that's what he did. He sold cars, owned a dozen dealerships. Not top-of-the-line stuff, he wasn't selling

Female Husbandry Sometimes exciting things happen at work, even farm work. Based on a post by Farmerjill. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. You think Farming is Boring? Maybe Not! My name is Connor Dixon and I am a beef farmer. I don't think farming is boring, I really like it but I know most people do. When I go to a function from my wife's work it is always the same. "What do you do?" They ask me. "I am a farmer." I tell them. Then it goes one of three ways, there is the joke route which usually ends in something like "where's the beef?" kind of thing. Then there is the inane question route, "do brown cows make brown milk?" Finally there is the change the topic, hope this guy goes away route. Yes, some people are really interested or are related to a farmer but that happens less and less as fewer and fewer people are farmers. I don't understand what is so exciting about sitting in a cubicle everyday and staring at a computer screen. Most people have boring jobs, even firemen spend most of the time doing boring things. Thank God that they aren't having to save people and fight fires every minute like on tv, but come on, hanging around a firehall for 24 hrs is boring day in day out. Now having said that, I will admit that farming does have some boring moments. The summer is busy but it is pretty unexciting. I grow beef so that means, cut hay, rake hay, bale hay and put hay away-then repeat. Driving around those same fields can get a little monotonous. Yes, you have to pay attention to what is going on because things can go wrong in an instant but usually it is pretty dull. That is why you have to enjoy the little things that happen during the day that spice things up. Sometimes you get to see a fawn and it's mother come out into the field. Other times you are up early and the sun rise is just extra special. Pulling a calf out of a cow in distress is always exciting, and usually really messy. Of course there are the times when you meet up with a fellow farmer and you stop your tractor next to his and share important information. This can be very exciting depending on who did what to whom and when and where. Of course we talk farm stuff too but most people tell me long term weather forecasts and crop futures are boring. Last of all are the moments we farmers cherish, the moments that really put a spring in our step and a smile on our faces. I will give you an example. I rent or own 11 pieces of land and they are not continuous so I have to drive between them. One of the pieces I rent is owned by a nice widow who lives at the corner of 2 gravel roads. She has a house on the north side and she quite often is not home visiting her kids and grand kids in town. On the east gravel road a family of 4 lives. Mom and dad are in their late 20s or early 30s and their children are about 5 and 6. I say hi to them when I see them and if I do see them, I usually tell them what I'm up to and when. You don't want to be cutting hay during a birthday party or something like that. The guy told me his name once but I'll admit I don't remember it. The woman who has never told me her name is what makes my days sometimes very exciting. You see she likes to wear tight short. It seems to me after 5 years of driving around her house working on hay that she is still wearing the shorts she had before she had kids. She has kept a few baby pounds on her and that makes her shorts tight, too small, and very exciting. From the rear you can see just a little bit of her bum coming out of her shorts. That really turns me on. The shorts are also always so tight that you can't see any panty lines. She unfortunately doesn't own any "daisy dukes' but the ones she does own are different colors but all of them are of a material that makes them like a second skin. Now when you see her from the front it gets even better. I love camel toes. Sometimes my wife wears something that gives her a camel toe and it always gets a rise out of me. The problem is my wife always wears panties and she always "fixes it" when she sees me drooling. It was not always like this however when we were young, she would wear tight shorts and it lead to great sex. So now I have to watch her at the right moment and there will a little bit of a camel toe but nothing like what this woman from the east gravel road house has! Her shorts ride right up her slit and her lips are so plump! It is the most enticing camel toe I have ever scene. Every time I see it my cock starts to get hard and I just want to stop the tractor and bury my face in it. Then if there is still time, I look at her top. Her t-shirts are also very tight and she doesn't seem to ever wear bras. She has these baseball size tits that are still quite firm after the kids. When she walks, they don't bounce as much a jiggle. It is a sight to behold. Her t-shirts also tend to be in light colors so when the sun hits them right or water gets on them, they are see through. She has nice little button nipples and big areolas. It is a sight to behold. I sometimes have trouble steering trying to look at her ass or camel toes or jiggly boobs. I also am very disappointed when she is not around, which is most of the time. Some of you might be wondering at this point about what her face looks like. It is fine enough, no buck teeth, or crooked warted nose, but who cares anyway with all the rest she has going on! Getting Plugged. The reason I am telling you this is because last June when I was baling hay my baler pick up got plugged. This happens sometimes but it is usually not to hard to unplug. I pulled out the canvas tarp I keep rolled up by the fender. Since I was shirtless, I spread it out, then laid on it while I began clearing out the clog. There I was under the baler pulling out the mass of hay when the most amazing thing happened. I was getting near done when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye; the woman was walking toward me. I don't know if she could see my face but all I could see was that camel toe approaching. I was sure that her shorts were even tighter that day, so it was looking really plump and inviting. As she moved closer, I was certain I could even see a little nub at the top of the slit; which must be her clit. At this point I should mention that I am wearing coveralls and boots. Under my coveralls are just a pair of thin cotton boxers. I am so preoccupied with the rapidly approaching camel toe that I don't really realize I am hard. When she got closer, I made sure I got back to working on the baler. "I m Mindy. Looks like you are having a bad day, or maybe a hard day?" Wow, I can't believe that this 20 something babe is flirting with me! I might be 54, but I'm sure she is flirting, because she made the word "hard" 2 syllables. She used this deep throaty growl for the "h" which then morphed into a sultry "ard." The way she says hard is so exhilarating it makes me harder. I manage to reply, "Sometimes this stuff happens, it will be fixed soon." "You sure look hot and sweaty down there. I bet you could use some lemonade to brighten up your day." It must have been heat stroke because before I engaged my brain I replied, "My day is already brighter seeing you in those shorts, and lemonade would be nice. I drank all of my water." She giggled. I made this woman giggle; and now she was off to get me lemonade! Of course I watched her beautiful ass walk all the way back to the house. Then I redoubled my efforts, so I would be done when she came back. When I saw her leaving the house with two glasses of lemonade, I was just finishing up, so I stood up so I could shake the hay off the tarp. Then I spread it out again, behind the big tractor wheel, where a late afternoon shade helped me cool down. When she came around the tractor, I was sitting with my back leaning on the tractor. She knelt down facing me, then handed me the lemonade; and then asked me a question, "I can't believe you like these old shorts. Your just trying to be nice. Do you really like them?" All of my blood was in my cock, and it was doing all the thinking and talking for me, "Are you kidding! You look positively stunning, if I was your husband and saw you in those, I would be on you in a second." She then did an incredible thing. She placed her two hands on the front of her shorts palms down. As she moved her hands up her shorts, she then continued speaking, "These old things, he doesn't even notice. When he comes home from work, he just gets a beer, I don't even get a kiss." The motion of her hands while she said this, was mesmerizing. Her efforts resulted in an even bigger and fuller camel toe! "If it was me, I would take one look at your ass in those shorts and I would give you a kiss that curled your toes, then I would go upstairs to our bedroom and get that coin jar we have on the dresser. I would take it outside and throw it all over the back yard. Then I would get the kids and tell them there was $17.93 out there and if they could find it all they could have it. That would keep them busy for a good hour I figure. Then I would pick you up plop you on the counter and lick your camel toe right through your shorts." She stopped my dialogue at that point and told me; I am a more visual person. You should show me what you mean. So I leaned forward and brought her in close and gave her an enthusiastic kiss. Then I laid her down on the tarp and proceeded to lick her camel toe. She started to grind her shorts into my face and I took that as a signal to pull her shorts down. What a set of lips! They were engorged with blood and begging to be worshiped. I started licking the one on the left and then moved to the right. By the time I starting sucking on them, she came! I then started to probe her slit with my tongue. She really liked that! When I started to alternate between licking her clit and fucking her with my tongue, she started to shake. I figured she was getting really close, so I took her clit in m

Amazon ‘Fiction’: Part 3 The lost valley - going home. Based on a post by Farmer Jill, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. We both were exhausted from the fighting. Deianira had a hand on her throat, rubbing it unconsciously. I prayed as I moved, that my balls would stop hurting. The crowd was going wild, this was turning into a great fight. Then there was a loud bang and crash outside the hall. The Amazon's closest to the windows and doors began to fall to the ground. It seemed like an invisible wave was knocking everyone out. The wave washed over me and I was out like a light. I awoke in another medical room. It looked like the ones in the other villages. I was in a hospital bed with no restraints. I sat up and took a look around. There was no one else in the room and I couldn't hear anyone else in the rest of the building. I did know however that the Amazons had surveillance measures and there was no doubt in my mind that I was being watched and listened too. I figured that within five minutes of me being noticeably awake I would have company. Since I had no watch and there was no clock I could not be sure but within about five minutes a door opened in the wall and in walked a man in a purple tunic and pants. He had sandals on his feet, and was carrying a tray with a meal on it. "Good morning Breeder, I am glad to see you are awake. I am Gerald servant of the Queen. Here is your breakfast, while you eat I will advise you of your duties here." The breakfast was good, judging from the taste and texture my water was still the Drink. No pills or injections were offered, and I was addressed as Breeder, so it was not surprising I was getting the Drink. "You will be of service to the Queen and her Amazons as a breeder. A list has been prepared, and they will attend your quarters daily. I will show you to your quarters after you finish breakfast. You will notice you have a new amulet. This in addition to translation; has some additional powers for you. If you are allowed access, it will enable you to open doors. You just have to approach a door and if you have access it will open. Most importantly, this will allow you to leave your accommodations. Outside of the time you are expected to perform service; you are allowed to roam the village. If you try to escape or enter somewhere you do not have access; your amulet will report you and you will be punished. If you try to remove your amulet you will be punished. The punishment will be quick and painful. Do you have any questions yet?" I thought about it, pretty simple really. I was still just a sperm bank, but it seemed I might get treated better. He gave me a moment and with no response continued. "Perhaps you will have questions later? I will try to answer them. You are obviously to defer to the wishes of any Amazon you meet. The men here are treated differently than in the other tribes. Those in purple such as I are the personal servants of the Queen. Our directions are to be followed immediately. Those in red are trusted servants who will expect your assistance with whatever they request of you. Those in brown are not trusted servants, their amulets have powers similar to yours. You won't come in contact much with them; as they do most of the farm work and dirty jobs. The last group is those in blue. These are the specialists. They have been recruited from the outside to further the Amazon technology. Many of them live in what you would term a common law marriage with an Amazon. You will have little interaction with them; but if you do obey them as you would obey the purple. They are not happy when "their" Amazon partner uses the Breeder, not that they can do anything about it, so be warned. Be respectful of them. These Amazons are different from the ones you have been with before. If you follow the rules, you will be fine. If you don't, you have been warned. Any questions now?" I went over the risk and reward in my head, I decided I had nothing to lose. "Yes I would like to know if there is any chance that I can leave here at some point and return to my family?" Gerald looked thoughtful for a moment. "I do not know the future; I also do not know the will of the Queen. Perhaps you will have a chance to meet her and perhaps you will be able to ask her that question. I would not dwell on it however; life is good here for us men. I suggest you forget about the past, and learn to enjoy it here." By now I was finished eating so we left the medical building and walked toward another non-descript building that would be my home. As we walked Gerald asked me a question, "Are you not interested to know how you arrived here; and what happened in the village of the Black breast plated ones?" Now that he mentioned it I was. "Yes I am interested, I was in a pretty sticky situation when whatever happened; but I'm sure it wasn't done to rescue me." Gerald let out a small laugh, "No, your rescue was not the aim of what happened at all, sorry to disappoint. What happened was that my Queen was fed up with the antics of the Black breast plated ones; and acted to correct the balance. You see all four valleys used to be a unified group. Then around 150 years ago there was an earthquake that caused this group of Amazons to be separated from the rest. Originally there were 4 village chiefs who sat in council to rule the Amazons. My Queen was elected head of the group. Yes I see the look on your face, these Amazons live long lives. My Queen is over 250 years old. Two of the other queens also are that old, only the Golden breastplated ones have a young Queen. The one at the time of the earthquake died in the fighting that followed. The other three village leaders broke away to form their own Queendoms. My Queen tried to keep it all together but due to the damage from the quake and that the other three united to resist, she was unsuccessful. By the time she had rebuilt and was powerful enough to move against them they were firmly settle as independent tribes. My Queen then put all her focus into staying ahead of them in technology; and watched and waited. The Black breast plated ones would raid the others now and again, but it was always on a small scale. Recently they have become bolder; and have upset the balance by stealing the girl children of the other tribes. My Queen could not allow this to continue; so she struck. You all were knocked out, and the girls were returned to their tribes. The Queen left enough destruction behind in the Black one's village; to significantly set them back. That was a warning to them, of my Queen's power. The other Amazon tribes will also know what was don,e from their returning girls. The status quo has been reestablished. As far as you are concerned my Queen knew what torments that the Breeder and all males are subjected to by the Black ones. We also were in need of a new Breeder, so she kept you." We now had arrived at my quarters. I had only one more question for Gerald for now, "So, you wear clothes and so do the other men here, what color I am I wearing?" Gerald regarded me with a look of surprise, "You do not wear clothes; you are the Breeder." As if that answered everything! Gerald then gave a few more administrative directions and left. I was already scheduled for service that day after lunch. Since I had some time I decided to take a look around. I must admit it did make me smile when the opening to my quarters stayed open when I approached it. The village did indeed look like the others. There was the school, the kitchen and dining hall, the armory, and plenty of dwellings for the Amazons. I saw a few men about. None in purple, but the ones in red had the look of those on important business. I also saw no one in brown or blue. I did come near one large building and my amulet started to heat up. I quickly turned away. The building was large, and I deduced that it might be a research lab where the blue men and the Amazons kept up their technological edge. When I entered the hall for lunch, I felt all eyes on me. I went to the section where men were seated. Everyone appeared to eat at the same time but were segregated. Despite having been naked since my capture I suddenly felt embarrassed by it. I was the only one in the room naked. Sure, the men were allowed some clothing in some of the other tribes; but here everyone was fully clothed but me. The Amazons didn't even all have the same outfit of breast plate, and armored skirt. Some wore that but others wore different outfits. Apparently only the on active-duty Amazons here were dressed for battle. All of the Amazon's had vambraces though, so they were not defenseless at all. The men at the table I sat with were polite to me but otherwise ignored my presence. I finished my meal and went back to my quarters. I had no idea what to expect from these Amazons. The first ones, with the gold and silver breastplates had just tied me down and taken what they wanted. The second group with the Blazing Sun breastplates had essentially had me masturbate into their vaginas. The third group with the black breast plates used and abused me. What would these ones do? All I knew is that unlike the black breast plated ones I was back to being a sperm donor. This meant I would be ejaculating. This didn't mean it ould be fun, quite the opposite. Only with Queen Zenoba and with war leader Aella; had the sex been any good for me. Otherwise, my pleasure was not factored into the equation. My thoughts were interrupted by an Amazon entering my dwelling. She was dressed in a loose-fitting gown and sandals. She had no vambraces, which I thought was interesting. I suspected few would come in breastplates, as they couldn't get pregnant on active service. It was hard to tell what she looked like, but I soon found out it she was another attractive, in an athletic way, Amazon. She took off her sandals and gown and my cock instantly got hard. "Happy to see me, Breeder?" Th

Amazon ‘Fiction’: Part 2 Nelson is traded to another tribe. Based on a post by Farmer Jill, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When I arrived on the other side of the field, the Amazon just continued on a path into the forest. I followed and the one who had been 10 paces away fell in behind me. We walked until it was dark and then stopped. It was the same routine for us as the trip to the exchange. A ready to eat meal, and then sleep for me and rotating guard duty for them. A ready to eat meal in the morning and then carry on walking. It was nearing sundown when we exited the forest and entered farmland. After the farmland was a village that looked identical to the one I had left. We entered through a guarded opening, and I was led to a carbon copy building of my prison in the last village. Inside was the toilet and sink and that's it. 2 windows and the flexible floor material. A tray of food was sitting on the floor. The Amazons who had led me there left and the opening slammed shut. As I ate I figured that these new Amazons would be using me for breeding in the morning. It made me laugh. I missed the loving sex with my wife Connie. This getting raped by multiple partners was getting depressing. I resigned myself to being strapped to another table and used in the morning. I was awoken by a man entering through the opening with a tray of food. He also handed me a pill. He made sure I swallowed it before he stepped back and allowed me to eat. I figured the pill was a nicer version of the sex drug injection I had been getting. Surprisingly, he then spoke to me. This would be the first man who had spoken to me in over a month, ever since Mateus and Paulo had been sold off as eunuchs. "Breeder you will be visiting the first sister wives today. You will follow these instructions exactly; any deviation will be punished by death. After you enter their bed chamber you will ready yourself for insemination. You will wait until the sister wife prepares her mate for you. Once she is ready you will insert yourself and release. Then you will exit and wait for that sister wife to prepare the other. When she is ready you will be ready to insert yourself and release. You must spend the least amount of time as possible breeding. You then will leave and return here. A guide will arrive each time to take you to the sister wives." He then looked at me, even though it was the longest speech I had heard since we were captured it still was the bare minimum required to get the point across. I noticed he wore an amulet like me that obviously was translating. I didn't really have any questions. I was expected to jerk off until I was ready to blow and presumably the sister wife would move out of the way to how she was preparing her mate and then I was to ejaculate inside her womb. I wondered what Connie would think of this "reward." I risked speaking, "Understood." I could be a man of few words too if I wanted to be. He then turned and left the room with me following behind. We walked a short distance to another dwelling, and he announce our arrival, "The breeder." "Send it in." I then entered the dwelling. It had a central room with an obvious bathroom and bedroom through other openings. I moved forward to the bedroom and saw two of the Amazons naked on the bed. They were beautiful in that athletic way of these Amazons. My cock was rock hard immediately as I watched the one Amazon orally pleasure the other. It was readily apparent that she would make her partner climax, and it was at that point I would do my duty. I didn't know how long that would take so I quickly stroked myself to the edge. I then kept myself there waiting. While I was waiting I wondered why they didn't just harvest my sperm and use AI. I learned later that the Amazons had studied the impregnation process until they had achieved the most efficient and effective system. What this meant is that the best time for the man to ejaculate was immediately after the female orgasm. This is why the Amazons of the Valley of Fire had all rode me to a climax before I came. This was why these Amazons of the Valley of the Sun gave their wife an orgasm before I was inserted. Natural insertion was found to be the best delivery system. The Valley of Fire Amazons were mostly heterosexual so enjoyed the ride so to speak. They were of course uninterested in any male's pleasure which is why we had been restrained. These Valley of the Sun Amazons were lesbians, they wanted minimal male contact. It all seemed logical even though it was very unfulfilling for the man involved. I was getting desperate to make love to my wife Connie. I was craving foreplay and the build up. Almost all of these Amazons had perky tits, and I was dying to touch and kiss them. I also loved to go down on my wife and she loved to give me blow jobs. Oh, how I missed that. If it wasn't for the injections and pills these Amazons might turn me off to sex! My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a woman climaxing. her partner moved away, and I gave myself a few quick jerks and pushed myself into the ready vagina. The feeling was amazing. Her vagina was so hot tight I couldn't have held out if I wanted to and I blasted her womb with my baby makers. I quickly but carefully then pulled out. The woman that I had just inseminated then pulled on some underwear while her wife lay down on the bed. She then went to work readying her wife for breeding. I began to stroke myself back to the edge. Whatever was in the pill they gave me reduced the refractory time to mere seconds. Eventually the second Amazon had her orgasm, and I repeated my insemination. Again, the vagina I entered was like warm tight velvet and I filled it with sperm. I then withdrew from her and left their room returning to my prison. The guide man showed up with lunch and then led me to another couple of sister wives to breed. This continued every day for about another month. At night I was left alone and did my forms and slept. I would have preferred a book to read or a TV to watch. I would have liked to just leave my prison and go for a walk! Yet the door to my opening only opened for everyone else, never me. I did take advantage of my walk back home after breeding. These Amazons seemed less intense than the last ones and I would meander back to my prison. In addition, I was able to talk to some of my guides. I learned that all meals were prepared in a central kitchen. It had an attached dining hall where everyone ate, except of course for guys like me. The women went first then the girls in training and finally the male slaves. The girls in training, were the female offspring of the Amazons and lived at the school once they turned four. The boy children went to live in the slave pen within 24 hours of birth. There were male slaves responsible for raising them. Each group of the same age girls was called a "sister group" and since they all had the same dad they were not allowed to intermarry. They could however marry anyone in the other sister groups. Given the breeding cycle and the availability of breeders there was little chance that they would marry their biological sister. The girls received schooling in the usual subjects as well as physical and military training. When they graduated at 18 they were put on active military service for five years. Once that was done they were still expected to fight but were allowed to marry and have children. There was to be no interaction between the girls and their dads. Once the scheduled women had all been bred the breeder was then traded away or sold as a slave to other Amazon tribes. Therefore, I knew my time with these Amazons was limited and my future might be bleak. I had no interest in becoming a eunuch slave. I just wanted to escape but so far there had been less than no opportunity. I also spent my nights thinking about my wife Connie and the boys. I missed them like crazy and hoped that I would see them again. I replayed our decision for me to go on this expedition a thousand times, regretting coming every time. That night I was awakened with a hand on my mouth. I was pulled to my feet by an Amazon who locked a collar around my neck. She then whispered in my ear, "You will do exactly as I say, you will not make a sound, you will follow me and make no attempt at escape. If we are separated then go to the village opening. If you fail to comply you will be killed." At that point, the collar around my neck briefly became very warm and then cooled off quickly again. This Amazon was serious, I knew my life was in the balance, "Understood." She then led me out of my prison but not through the opening. The Amazon had cut a hole in the wall, and we exited through it. It was very quiet in the village as we made our way to the opening. We were about halfway there when an alarm went off. The night also started to light up with flashes. I noticed that my Amazon's breastplate was black but otherwise she was dressed like all the other women warriors I had met. She had a sword in her right hand but when an Amazon with a blazing sun exited a dwelling she aimed her left hand at her. The laser beam that left her vambrace almost cut the other Amazon in half. We continued to advance so when the sister wife exited the dwelling she howled at her fallen mate and clashed swords with my captor. I moved a few steps back not knowing what else to do and watched the fight. Apparently, lasers were fine at long range but close in they were not allowed. Both the Sun blaze Amazon and Black Amazon were skilled swordswomen. They maneuvered for advantage, their blades clashing as they sought an advantage. My captor however was faster and sliced open the other Amazon's thigh. This made her stumble. My captor then ran the other Amazon though with her sword. We continued on. Suddenly my captor went down her head lopped off by a laser beam. I never felt so exposed in all my life. I of course was

Amazon ‘Fiction’: Part 1 The adventure begins. Based on a post by Farmer Jill, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It all started with one woman's desire to prove that Amazons existed. Yes, that's right those legendary female warriors. Her name was Sylvia Riesling, the heiress to the Riesling billions. She was completely obsessed with the Amazons. Sylvia had commissioned a big international conference on the Amazons in Frankfurt Germany. I, Nelson James, was the keynote speaker. I am a professor of Anthropology at an Ivy League university. I was nothing special, just another academic in an obscure field toiling away to feed my wife and three sons. My area of interest was the Amazon River basin and the primitive people still living there. Sure, I had heard rumors of Amazon's, but never really was that interested until that blockbuster movie Amazon World came out. Sheer genius it was, a story of how the legendary women warriors got fed up with the patriarchal world and emerged from their self-seclusion to overthrow it. Plenty of women wanted to see it because it had a good plot, of course the defeat of all the male governments. (This was a movie so there were zero female world governments at the time to overthrow) and the lead actresses were all A-list. Men went with their wives and girlfriends because of all the Amazon warriors in their skimpy battledress were former Playboy bunnies or cheerleaders. Another attraction for many was the first-rate special effects. Let’s face it action movies with babes sell. I heard about the movie when it started production and knew what I had to do. I was in the running for a full professorship, and this could be my way in. I knew my obscure area of study would have a brief time in the limelight and I had to take full advantage. Immediately I researched an academic paper on the Amazons. It would be published in the usual dull Anthropology Journal. That would provide me with the material to write an article in regular English for the New York Times and any other media outlet that wanted to pick it up. This would get me promoted. One theologian of the nineteenth century proffered a hypothetical from the biblical text of Genesis. He cited a Garden of Eden, but separated from the ‘civilized world’ by a global flood. A flood caused by a traumatic shift of the polar rotation, causing seasons, a depletion of hydro shielding of the atmosphere, and a resulting penetration increase in ultraviolet radiation. The major plates of the earth radically broke apart, causing a large ocean between the South American and African plates. The theologian believes it plausible that the Garden of Eden is the Amazon and Ecuadorian South Pacific region. He cites the Galapagos irregularities and species of Tortoises that have perhaps 3 times the lifespan of humans. Could all life forms excel greater, and live longer; in the ‘garden region’? Then the theologian sites the Nephilim giants, offspring of when spirit beings mating with human women. The text of Genesis 6: 4; 4 The Nephilim giants were on the earth in those days, and also afterward; when the spirit beings went to the human women. They seduced the women and had children by them. The offspring became powerful. They were the heroes of old, men of renown human folklore. The biblical references are several, but European civilizations have not seen evidence in many centuries, thus the idea has been discredited as superstition.  The theologian speculates that these mythical Amazons are perhaps superior in body and mind, and irreverent to the creator’s order. The original Spirit beings designed to set up a civilization where women perverted the creator’s order, and made human males into slaves of women. Whereas in other civilizations the offspring men conquered and terrified the world, in the Amazon regions, their superior intellect and science was used to alter genetics in favor of the females. The offspring females were genetically capable of longer life, superior intellect, and godlike in physical attributes. Male offspring, however; were genetically cursed to the limitations of all other humankind. Academia condemned the theologian’s speculations, and it was not allowed to be taught at any credible university. Only bible colleges even entertained it as plausible.  For my academic career’s sake, I went with the consensus theories of the leading universities and published a secular research. I called it Amazons: Fact or Fiction. The Times was interested, and I retained the syndication rights after they had the first exclusive release. In order to write the paper though, I had to get access to the journal of Francois Canard. He was the famous 19th century explorer whose journal documented his discovery of the Amazons. Unfortunately, no one believed Francois at the time, and they declared him mad and institutionalized him. He was known to the Amazon crowd as Bizarre Canard. His family detested that name, and what happened to him. They were always trying to rehabilitate his name and this movie, Amazon World, would bring his name to the forefront. I contacted the family and flew to France to meet with the heir, Jean Paul Canard. I promised to set the record straight on Francois. They would have right to reject anything I wrote before publication, and I would give them a portion of any profits I made, to pay legal fees to have the official record changed. ln exchange, I would have full access to his journal and any other records the family held. For some reason, Jean Paul felt I was trustworthy and agreed to my offer. The movie came out and broke records on its first weekend. My article came out on the Saturday of that weekend and on Monday was reprinted and reposted all around the world. The university loved the publicity, and I was given the full professorship. Moreover, the syndication money was greatly appreciated by my wife Connie. She was great at making our money stretch, but it always was tight. This is where Sylvia came in. With all the hype about the Amazons, she held her conference. Since I was acknowledged as a "world renowned Amazon "expert" I was selected keynote speaker. No expense was spared. Sylvia even paid for Connie and the boys to accompany me. We made a holiday of it and Sylvia had one of her staff tour guide us around Germany for a week. It wasn't all altruistic though. She wanted me to go to the Amazon River basin on an expedition she was funding. Again, no expense would be spared, in the quest to prove the existence of the Amazons. However, there was a problem with me going on the expedition. I had promised Connie no more trips to the Amazon until the boys were through their teen years. Connie had not complained about my previous trips when they were younger; when I was building my career but now she now she wanted my help at home. I had the professorship, so I was pretty secure, and I liked staying home. I loved Connie and being a father. Sylvia was tenacious however, at our first meal together before the conference she had mentioned the expedition and my role in it. I had explained that I had made a promise to Connie but would be glad to help with the preparations. Connie was very happy with my response and showed me her appreciation that night. Sylvia however was relentless, and by the end of our trip in Germany Connie had not only released me from my promise but was encouraging me to go! That conversation would replay over and over again in my mind, over the next year. I suspect it haunted Connie as well. Connie had it all figured out, "Nelson I know you made a promise to me, and you keep your promises. You are a great husband and father; I love being married to you. You are a great provider, working hard to give us what we need, and more. Sylvia has offered you an amazing sum to go on this expedition, This is your reward for all your years of hard work. If it is successful you will receive an even larger bonus. This would make us set for life. Sylvia thinks you will be gone a month, maybe two at the outside. I will be fine for that long; both of our parents will help. I really think you should go." I would have stuck to my promise but also I did want to go, it would cement my reputation and place at the university. The money was a stupid amount, one million dollars. I did also want to stay with my family. I could stay home and still milk my expert status at the same time. Yet Connie was pushing me to go so I agreed. Sylvia had no time to waste, a group was assembled and outfitted in a month. The leader of the expedition would be Lori Becker a self-made millionaire. She came from the wrong side of the tracks and had never failed at anything she had tried. Of course, our leader had to be a woman so she could speak on equal terms with the Amazons we hopefully would meet. Francois had mentioned this in his journal. His expedition included some women, and he made one of them the "leader," since the Amazons would not speak to him. Then there was the two security women, Alesha Murray, and Estelle Rodrigues. They were former special forces and from what I could see, the two women were the real deal. There were plenty of primitive locals, robber barons, and other assorted bad guys in the Amazon River basin so we needed protection. Again, women warriors made sense for the obvious reasons. Then there was Paulo and Mateus and their river boat. They would provide the grunt labor for the group as well as run the boat. They both were very handy and knew parts of the river. They also knew many of the main characters, among the legitimate and illegitimate goings on in this part of the basin. Finally, there was me, the expert advisor, and hopefully with the help of Bizarre Canard's journal the navigator. From my previous experience, this was a good size group for an Amazon river exploration. Small enough to be effective, but not too big to be unwieldy and attract too much unwanted attention from

Betting her Ass. Another look at ‘girls night out.’ Based on a post by Farmer Jill. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It was the usual thing, Dexter and Mia Johnson were married 19 years, and everyone thinks they have it all together. They met at a 4th of July fireworks. The fireworks were over, and it started to rain. Dexter had a coat and Mia didn't. He lent her his and the rest is history. Two kids came along, Allison and Amy. Two good kids, two good jobs, a nice house in the suburbs. Dexter and Mia were more in love now than when they first married. The only thing Dexter could complain about was Mia's friends Cynthia and Roxanne. Cynthia or Cyndi (sounds like sin for a reason) was married to Chet, and they had no children. Cyndi was a beautiful woman. She knew it and used it. Cyndi liked to try new things and always talked about the latest concepts. They weren't always new ideas, but they were new to her, and she spoke about them with passion like a true believer. Cyndi's latest was that the three women should start going out one night a month together, the dreaded girls' night out ( or Girls’ Night, for short). Roxanne went by Roxy, and if Cyndi was beautiful, Roxy was gorgeous. She was married to Tom. They had a single child. Roxy wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer and usually would get drawn into Cyndi's latest ideas. Sometimes this caused Roxy some grief because she didn't always "get" all the fine details of Cyndi's latest obsession. TikTok trends were an example of this. Cyndi got into a phase of TikTok and never should have told Roxy about "The one chip challenge." Luckily, Roxy only had some bad diarrhea. Thankfully, Tom or Mia usually caught Roxy before she did something really stupid. Dexter was used to laughing as Mia told him about Cyndi's latest and greatest but when the topic of a girl's night out came up he did not laugh. "Mia I'm not sure if you're asking me if you can go or just telling me about it but it's a hard no." Mia was taken aback, Dexter had hard lines, but she hadn't been near one in a while. "Dex, what do you mean, hard no? Cyndi said that this could be good for a marriage. I also don't like you saying hard no, you can't order me around." "Mia, when we got married, we committed to one another. That means we have a veto over the other person. In my mind, it means that each person should know what would be a veto thing to the other and therefore not do it in the first place, or in other words, use a self-veto. Let me give you a real-world example. 3 weeks ago, all of the guys were going to the stripper bar after work because Davis was getting married. I didn't think you would like me to go to a stripper bar. I also didn't think it was appropriate for me to go. I imposed a veto on myself and told them I wasn't going. I gave Tony $50 bucks to buy a round on me, and I came home. Maybe you would have said yes, maybe you wouldn't care but I don't think it is appropriate behavior for me, your husband. If I had of wanted to go and asked you and you said no, I would not have gone and respected your veto." Mia spent some time digesting Dexter's words. Part of the reason they had such a good marriage is because they talked things out. Mia also remembered a few times when Cyndi's schemes had almost cost them money before Dexter pointed out the flaws. "Dex I wasn't sure if I was going to ask you if I could go along, but now I don't have to. I am not going but I am interested to see if what Cyndi think's it will achieve will actually happen." "Mia I love you more than anything, and I'm glad you aren't going to go with Cyndi and Roxy. I would also be interested to hear about whether or not it pans out like Cyndi thinks." Dexter never wanted to close the door on communication. Moreover, he knew he had been kind of harsh and didn't want Mia to think him as a bully. He was not changing his mind however, about the Girls’ Night. Dexter was also taking nothing for granted and was going to talk to Chet and Tom as soon as possible. Three days later while they were eating supper, Mia told Dexter about Cyndi and Roxy's Girls’ Night the night before. Mia was pretty excited. "Umm, Dex; Cyndi and Roxy went out last night, Thursday's is lady's night at Maxi's. They told me it was great." Dexter pondered for a moment, something about Maxi's was out there that he couldn't remember. Then it came to him. "Isn't Maxi's like a pickup bar?" "I'm not sure about that, but it is the happ'n place to be in this town. Cyndi said that Chet didn't know what hit him when she got home. Roxy said that Tom liked how rejuvenated she was. So far, this seems to be working like they said." Mia knew better than to push any harder about the Girls’ Night and going with her friends. She definitely wanted to go with them, but Dexter said no, and it wasn't worth a big fight. The following Wednesday Dexter met up with Chet and Tom for a beer. After beers were ordered, Dexter got to the point. "Thanks for coming, Chet and Tom. I really appreciate you coming out to speak with me. I was wondering about your wives and them going out together once a month." Chet laughed, "Yes, the good'ole girl's night out. Cyndi's latest thing. What would you like to know?" "It seems your wives have been telling my wife Mia about how great it is. Specifically, that it has made a difference in the bedroom." Now Tom laughed, "That's a laugh, Roxy came home the first time all hot and bothered and wanted to get it on. She was all worked up. I said No thanks. I told her that I had no interest in being the vicarious recipient of her lust for other guys. She wasn't happy about that, and tried to deny it. I told her that once she was truly excited for me, lusting for me, then I would be available. She was shocked that I turned her down for sex. The girls went out on Thursday, and by Saturday, she was all over me, once the kid went to bed. Sure, it was great, but I think there was some left-over lust from Thursday that reduced it from awesome." Chet had taken a different approach, "That's a good idea, but it's not what I did. Instead, on the Wednesday night before, I took Cyndi to bed right after supper and gave her my best. By the time we fell asleep, I was worn out. When she came home the next night from her Girls’ Night, I pretended to be asleep; so any amorous intentions she might have had, didn't get fulfilled." Dexter tried to match up what the husbands said, with what their wives told Mia. Then Chet continued, "What about you Dex? Why isn't Mia going with our wives to the Girls’ Night?" "I told her no. I told her that we had veto rights over the other's actions, and I didn't want her to go. I told her I saw no benefit, only a downside." Tom was impressed, "That's what I should have done. Sorry Chet, but Cyndi tends to lead Roxy down the garden path. Anyways it made me sit down with Roxy and have a serious conversation about fidelity; and that if she did anything that didn't pass the husband test we’re done. What did Mia specifically say they told her?" "She said that your wife was rejuvenated by the experience; and that Chet didn't know what hit him." Chet laughed louder, "I think that Cyndi got that confused; she said that to me, after I wore her out on Wednesday. She said, What got into you? I don't know what hit me.' She liked our Wednesdays before her Girls’ Night, at least that's what she told me. So, I guess in a way it is good for us, but frankly I've never complained about the sex with Cyndi, anyways." Tom looked confused, "Rejuvenated, is not the word I would use, but it sort of works. Roxy, before this Girls’ Night thing wasn't initiating very much, but now she did. Not that she turned me down very often, when I initiated. But you know, it's nice when they come after you for a change." Dexter was feeling much better about things after he left the bar. Chet and Tom seemed to have things well-in-hand. Mia said nothing about the Girls’ Night for the next couple of months, but her friends wouldn't let it go, that she wasn't coming. Cyndi especially wanted to get Mia to come. Cyndi had discovered something called the hotwife lifestyle that she wanted to couple with the Girls’ Night. She called Mia and invited her out for coffee on the Monday before the women were having another Thursday Girls’ Night. Cyndi was already seated when Mia arrived. "Hi Cyndi, what's so important that we have to meet for coffee today?" "Oh, Mia! There's so much to tell you. But first I have to ask, can you remind me why don't you come to our girls’ night out?" Mia was a little embarrassed about this. She had told Cyndi and Roxy she wasn't interested; she didn't want to tell them that Dexter said no. "I'm just not interested Cyndi; it's not my thing." "Come on, Mia! It's loads of fun. It makes a girl feel young and wanted, desired even." "Dex wants me, I'm certain he desires me, I don't need anyone else for that." "Come on Mia, you aren't even a little bit interested in seeing what happens? Maybe Roxy and I are doing things there, that have really spiced things up in the bedroom." Truthfully, Mia was very interested in being part of the Girls’ Night. She tried to keep the eagerness under control, and out of her tone, "What kind of things have you two been doing?" "Oh, a few little things that might not pass the husband test. But don't worry; Chet's fully on board and is reaping the results." Mia was shocked. Chet was okay with this? "Sure, he is. It gets him right worked up that we're out flirting and things. He especially likes it when I come home and give him the details." If Mia had a fault, it was being too trusting. If Cyndi was telling her this, it must be true. This just made Mia want to go to the next Girls’ Night, all the more. "Wow, well, I can talk to Dex about it. I'll see what he thinks." Cyndi saw an opening and drove in the wedge, "What about what he thinks? Aren't you your own boss? Does he

Busted Parents: 2 Stories “Do as we say, not as we did.” Based on a post by yellowjacket66. Listen to the Podcast at my First Time. Her Parents Caught Us Naked But Haley and I discovered their shameful secrets. "I'll rip your fucking dick off; and stuff it down your fucking throat, if you knock-up my daughter." It was Mr. Boyd Summers, the father of my girlfriend Haley. He was very angry. Haley and I, both 18, having recently graduated from high school were sitting in her parents' kitchen listening to the diatribe from Haley's father. Haley spoke up, "Daddy, we're not doing anything like that. Please don't say things like that." Mr. Summers continued, he was drunk and pissed-off. He ranted at me, "Don't you tell me you're not fucking my daughter!" But I hadn't told him I wasn't fucking his daughter; his daughter had. She continued to defend herself. "Daddy, please! Josh and I have not been having sex." Mr. Summers said, "Bull; shit! Don't lie to me, little girl." "I'm not lying." She said. Haley was now crying. Mrs. Summers entered the fray, "Boyd, don't speak like that to your daughter." He said, "She's just a slut! Just like you and your sister." Mrs. Summers ignored the words and calmed him down. "Boyd, sit here! Let your daughter explain herself." Oh boy, this would have to be a good explanation. Mr. Summers sneered, "Okay, explain how you and this asshole” Boyd sneered at me; “Came home naked? What were you doing, reading poetry to each other?" He was drunk and angry. I could see his point, though. Haley and I had showed up at the front door to her house, buck naked. It was a Saturday night in late May, and I had picked her up for a date at 6:30. We left, fully clothed, only to return at 1:30AM, without our clothes. Seeing their slender, beautiful daughter, naked with some kid, had to be an incredible shock to her parents. I walked her  from the driveway to her front door. It was locked because we violated curfew. Haley had knocked on the door and we both retreated to hide behind some shrubs. My plan was to get the hell out of there once Haley had contacted her mother and gotten inside the house. Her mom opened the door, to find no one on the porch. The conversation went like this; "Pist, Mom. Can you get me a coat. I'm cold." Her mother said, "Well come inside. Why are you hiding?" Haley said, "I lost my clothes. Someone stole them." "Where's Josh?" "He's out here too." I had asked her to just go inside and not involve me. It would only make things worse if she were naked and with me. "Does he have clothes on?" Haley answered, "No. They stole his clothes too." That's when Haley's dad came outside. "Helen, Wha da fuckis going on?" He asked. We could tell immediately that he'd been drinking. Haley's mom explained; “Boyd, Haley and her boyfriend were saying their clothes had been stolen.” "Whah dah fuck!" He said. Haley said to me, "Josh, Let's just go to your house." I imagine my mom would be more receptive to me bringing home a naked girl. She probably expected shit like that from me. Haley's mom said, "No. Get in here; both of you!"  "I don't want Daddy to see me naked." Haley protested. Boyd said, "Why not. Probably half the city has seen you naked." Anyone on the block could have heard Boyd announce his daughter’s nakedness. He was hot, and getting hotter. But he didn't actually want to see his daughter naked, so he turned and went in the house while Mrs. S got a couple of coats from the closet and handed them to us in the bushes. She gave Haley a long coat, but I had just a short coat that really didn't cover my ass and my dick was sticking out. Having a girl's mother see your cock is not going to create a favorable impression. It was enough to get us in the house. Mrs. S got a pair of her husband's work pants for me, and a sweatshirt. Haley went to her room and put on some clothes. We were hoping that would be the end of it, but Mr. S called her down to the kitchen and told me to sit my ass down. That's when he threatened to cut my dick off and shove it down my throat. He was a big, rough guy, and I believed him. Anyway, Haley and I tried to explain what had happened. She told the story, the G-rated version. "Josh and I went to the movies and afterward we were driving around talking." Partially true, we'd gone to the drive-in where we had necked furiously through the entire movie. Neither of us could remember what the flick was about. I was playing with her naked tits the entire time. She continued, "After the movie, we drove around for a bit. We just like to drive around and talk about things." We were looking for a place to park. It was years ago, before cell-phones and the internet. Haley continued, "You remember the old rock quarry out past Hooverville, where we would swim during the summers." Her mom and dad nodded. "I convinced Josh to go swimming. It was such a nice night and I remembered all the good times when you had taken us there when we were kids." She was sucking-up to them, playing the little daughter but not emphasizing that she went swimming while naked with her boyfriend. I spoke up and said, "It was my idea to go swimming. It wasn't, but I was trying to shield Haley's honor. She said, "No, it was my idea. We didn't have swim suits, so I convinced Josh we should skinny-dip. He didn’t want to, but finally gave in, because it was very dark and he didn’t want me to get hurt and not be able to help. We'd never done anything like that before.”  I hoped they believed it. This part about it being her idea was true. When Haley suggested we both strip and go swimming, it actually didn't take me more than a second to agree. We'd been to the drive-in movie. We'd gone there on dates half-a-dozen times. We'd graduated from just kissing to where I stripped Haley to the waist and spent a couple of hours playing with her fascinating tits. I took my shirt off too. I also had my hands in her pants, playing with her virgin pussy and rubbing her smooth, soft ass. I sucked her tits and put my fingers inside her. She pulled on my cock. She had gotten me off many times. She would use her hands to satisfy me, which avoided my urge to go further. She would come too. Her crotch would get so warm that I couldn't believe it. We steamed up the car windows, which obscured our view of the movie, but we didn't care. We were young and in love. After the movie, we drove around as we said. The quarry she mentioned was a popular 'make-out' spot where teens like us would 'park'. Haley continued telling her folks, "We were swimming, when a couple of guys saw our car and pulled up. Then they saw our clothes on the hood of Josh's car, and took them." It was true. We were swimming in the cool deep water, and when a few guys we knew from school showed up. They knew my car. "Hey Josh. What are you doing?" One of them said. It was a guy named Eddie. He called a few times and I said, "I'm just taking a piss." "Bullshit. Your clothes are on your car. Are you taking a piss or whacking off." "Okay. I'm just swimming. I'll talk to you guys next week." Eddie asked, "Are you alone?" I said I was, but he said, "Well is this your bra and panties on the hood of your car." I begged them to just be on their way, but they were enjoying their mastery of the situation. "Who's with you?" "None of your business. Please just leave us alone." He said, "It must be Haley Summers in there with you. Her ID is in her jeans." His friend john said, "She must be naked. I'd like to see that." I said, "We are wearing swim suits (a lie)." Carl, another of the guys said, "Why don't you two come out and say hello. You must be getting cold in that water." It was true. The water was very cold. My dick had shriveled to the size of a peanut. We both had goosebumps and Haley's nipples were hard, like little pebbles. The banter went back and forth with them wanting us to come out and me trying to get them to go away. Haley asked them to please leave. I offered money, but they weren't interested and I didn't have much anyway. It was a stalemate, but we were in the losing position. We were shivering from the cold water. Finally, they said, "We'll wait over here by our car while you two come out." Haley was very cold and said, "Let them see. I really don't care. We won't see them again since school is over." We had graduated and probably wouldn't cross paths with the three guys very often again, although two of them were juniors and would undoubtedly spread salacious stories around school next year. It pissed-me-off that they would say embarrassing things that might detract from Haley's reputation, but we had no options. So, I went first. Haley hung back in the bushes. They had taken our clothes from the car hood, including my wallet and the car keys. I tried to talk them into returning my stuff, but they wouldn't do it. I was embarrassed, standing there naked. They'd seen me naked after gym class. Haley was the prize. "We want to see Haley naked." Eddie said. John said, "I want to see those titties of hers that she flaunts around school." Haley was a very popular girl. She had a killer body and a nice set of boobs. Many young men drooled over her. She'd only started at our school for her senior year (and was 18), but had attracted many invitations for dates. She went out with a number of guys, but she wouldn't 'put out', so the more lecherous dudes left her alone. I was in American History class next to her, and asked her out in a moment of rare courage. She accepted and we had been 'going steady' for the last four months of the school year. As time went on, we did more and more, but she had limits and I proceeded very cautiously, not wanting to disrespect her; but damn, she made me hot. Haley was a young woman with glands and sexual desires too. We hadn't had sex. She was telling her daddy the truth. We sure were proceeding toward it though. She wanted to wait at least until we had graduate

Babysitting Perks A Snowstorm leaves the sitter stuck at her client's house. Based on a post by lily ann. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I spent most nights of my senior year in high school babysitting. It was my parent's fault, really. Apparently having a real job would affect my grades too much, so I was stuck earning my money by spending my nights in various houses, feeding Kraft Dinner and hot dogs to hyper-active kids while their parents took a night off. It wasn't terrible, by any means. In fact, I took it quite seriously. I don't mind children, and at most places I had full access to the fridge while I finished off my homework after putting the kids to bed. The pay wasn't bad, either. I liked to play games with the kids and most of the time, the kids asked for me back before their parents did. I had a pretty steady clientele, most within walking distance of my house. It was convenient for me; I had procrastinated getting my driver's license so long that I was 18 and still only had my learner's license. It was late February when Mr. Riley called the first time. I gave my cell phone number out to my clients, and he was lucky enough to call me on one of my nights off. I was in the bathtub when I answered. "Hello?" "My name is George Riley. I'm looking for Anna Marchand," replied the person on the other end. I immediately liked his voice. It wasn't too deep, but it was soft and smooth. I was almost tempted to consider it calming, but he sounded slightly stressed. "You've reached her," I said. "Oh; hi, Anna.  I'm a friend of the Anderson's, and they recommended you as a babysitter. I've got a few late meetings next Friday, and my regular sitter isn't available. I was wondering if you'd be available to watch my son." I shifted in the tub, hoping he didn't hear the water splash. "I usually take Friday nights off, but it sounds like you could use the help." "I really could," he said. "I'm afraid I can't offer you more than your regular rate or anything;” "It's fine," I interrupted. "I don't mind, sir, really. I'd love to babysit for your son." "Thank you so much," he said, sounding thoroughly relieved. "His name is Kyle, and he's three. I would need you from around five until pretty late." "Not a problem," I said. I got the rest of the details from him, and made a note of his address. He lived on the other side of town, but I was sure my mom would be okay with driving me. Friday came along and I went home after school. I had worn a cute skirt to school and debated on wearing it to the Riley's, but decided against it;  three year olds could be really active and I didn't want to deal with the skirt. Instead I put on my favorite pair of jeans, dark blue and fitting snugly, with a tight blue scoop neck t-shirt. I never tried to dress provocatively when I went to babysit, but I did try to look fairly nice. I rarely got to go out with friends or boys, because I always seemed to be taking care of someone else's kids. Usually I was alright with it; not dating just meant I didn't have to deal with all the drama my friends did, and there were very few guys I knew that I was really interested in, anyway. I knew there was a reason for it. I would never tell any of my friends, but I found a lot of the men I babysat for much more appealing than any guy my age. I babysat for a lot of babies and toddlers, so their parents tended to be either late twenties or early thirties; not that much older than me, at any rate. A lot of the men were good-looking, and more than once I found my mind fixed on one of them while I got off before falling asleep. I didn't know about Mr. Riley, though. The Anderson's were a couple in their early forties, and since they had referenced me, I figured Mr. Riley might be a bit older than the usual men I babysat for. Even still, I put a little bit of effort into my outfit. The t-shirt clung nicely to my tits, which were a nice size; 36 C, and fairly firm. I had a push-up bra underneath, which showed just a hint of cleavage. It fit slightly looser around my stomach. While I would never consider myself fat, I didn't have the hard, flat tummies that all my friends seemed to work towards. I didn't mind, though. It was a small price to pay for having great hips and a round ass. I knew that if I tried to lose any weight, I'd lose those curves, and that was not something I was willing to give up to have a flat stomach. After putting on just a bit of makeup and brushing my long hair off my face, I grabbed my backpack and went to ask my mom to drive me over. My mom dropped me off at quarter to five. I walked up the driveway. The house was in a fairly good neighborhood and looked pretty nice. I rang the doorbell and waited patiently. The door was opened a few moments later by a man who, I was surprised to see, looked to be in his early thirties. He was good looking, about 6'2'' and fairly toned, with deep brown eyes and dark brown hair. He was wearing a nice suit, but looking slightly frazzled. "Mr. Riley?" I asked. "Yeah, you must be Anna?" I smiled. "Nice to meet you, sir." He smiled and opened the door. I turned around and waved at my mom, who had been waiting to make sure we had the right address. Mr. Riley led me into the house and offered to take my jacket. I smiled and gave it to him, looking around the house as he put it away. It was nice, but a little messy. There were toys everywhere and I could hear a TV playing a kid's show in the next room. "Sorry about the mess," Mr. Riley said, returning without my jacket. "I haven't had time to clean anything up." "It's fine," I said, smiling. "No, it's embarrassing." He smiled at me apologetically. I grinned. He was very attractive, especially when he smiled. I was glad I had put a bit of effort into my outfit, and briefly let myself wonder what he was like in bed. My thoughts were interrupted by a little boy rushing into the front hall. Mr. Riley turned and lifted the boy. "This is Kyle," he said. Kyle looked at me shyly, but he was smiling. He was absolutely adorable, with big brown eyes just like his father's, and lighter brown hair that fell in his face. He had a smudge of dirt across his cheek and his father wiped it off tenderly. "Hi Kyle," I said. "I'm Anna. I'm going to be here with you tonight." "Say hi, Kyle," Mr. Riley said, nudging the little boy. "Hi," Kyle said quietly. Mr. Riley put him down and Kyle ran back into the other room. "I've got to finish getting ready for my meetings," he said. "If you wouldn't mind watching Kyle?" "Of course," I replied, "that's what I'm here for." I walked into the other room and sat on the couch. Kyle looked up from the floor, where he was playing with some cars. I smiled at him, and he stood up, picking his toys up and walking over to the couch. "Wanna play?" he asked softly. By the time Mr. Riley poked his head in to tell me he was leaving, Kyle and I were playing cars. Kyle hardly noticed his father leaving, making my job easier. Kids always hate it when their parents go. He was a good kid, and very talkative. We played cars until I decided it was time for him to eat. Over dinner, Kyle told me about his mom. I wasn't exceptionally surprised to find out that his parents were divorced, but I was shocked to find out how much Kyle knew about it; especially how easily he told me about how his mother just walked out. It's surprising how much information kids can absorb, and I felt so bad for the poor kid that I gave him an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert. It was probably a bad decision on my part; the extra sugar hyped him up so much that I had trouble getting him to bed. By the time he finally fell asleep, it was an hour and a half past his bedtime, and I was exhausted from chasing him around. I felt bad for disobeying what Mr. Riley had asked, but figured I could explain it when he got home. After Kyle was asleep, I tidied up the den and kitchen before settling myself on the couch. I turned the TV on and started studying. It didn't take me long to finish my homework, so I spent some time channel surfing and reading some magazines that Mr. Riley had on the coffee table, checking on Kyle every once in a while. I was so tired that I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I was startled awake when I heard the front door open. I sat up and a magazine fell off my lap just as Mr. Riley entered the room. He smiled at me. "Did I wake you up?" he asked. I yawned. "I guess so," I answered, laughing. "I didn't even realize I had fallen asleep." He laughed and entered the room, bending down to pick up the magazine I dropped. "Did Kyle wear you out?" I smiled at him. "Well, it's my fault, really." I blushed. "I felt kind of bad for him, so I gave him a little extra ice cream after dinner. He went to bed a little later than you said. I'm sorry." "Oh, that's fine," Mr. Riley said. "It's rare that he likes babysitters, so a little extra ice cream might have been okay." He frowned for a moment. "Why did you feel bad for him?" I bit my lip nervously. "Well, he just started talking about; about his mom; and I just;” Mr. Riley smiled, holding a hand up to cut me off. "I understand." I took a good look at Mr. Riley. He had a young-looking face, but he looked tired and really tense. His tie was loosened slightly and he had taken off his jacket, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. He caught me looking at him and laughed a bit. "I'm a mess, I know," he sighed, sitting on the couch. "It's been hard since; well; she just left. I love my son but she was the one who stayed home with him. I'm still trying to figure out how I'm supposed to balance him and my job." I smiled, a little unsure of what to say, and he seemed to notice. "Sorry," he said. "It's okay," I answered. "Well, you know, if you need help I can always come over and babysit." He smiled at me again. "I'll keep it in mind. And thanks for cleaning up, you didn't have to do that." I smiled back. "It wasn't a pro

Joey Visits An Overheated Milf On Nude Day, MILF scores her neighbor boy’s cock. Based on a post by silkstockingslover. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "It's so fucking hot in here," Sarah Waterton sighed. It was a Friday afternoon in the middle of July, her air conditioning wasn't working, it was a hundred degrees outside, and it didn't feel much cooler than that inside her house; perhaps even hotter; even with all the windows wide open. She was glad her period ended last night. She was about to invite herself over to Carol’s backyard pool. She was doing some dishes wearing only a bikini, and she was seriously considering discarding those two tiny pieces of fabric too, when there was a knock at the door. The mother of two (her daughter Cynthia was away for a summer session at college, and her son Nate had recently graduated from high school) went to the door and was surprised to see Nate's best friend, Joey, standing there. Although she wasn't actually naked, she felt a little self-conscious to be standing in front of an eighteen-year-old guy so scantily dressed. "Hi, Miss Waterton," Joey greeted, trying to keep his jaw from plummeting down to the porch's floor like in a Loony Toons cartoon, since his all-time MILF fantasy was standing right in front of him, in a bikini that couldn't possibly hide her enticingly voluptuous tits. "Hi, Joey. Nate isn't home," she said, taking in the boy's appearance. He was slightly dorky as a younger teen, but he'd pretty much grown into a ruggedly handsome man in the past year. She'd known Joey since he was five, when her young family moved in across the street from Joey’s family. Her son and he had been best friends ever since. "Yeah, I think I left my charger in the basement game room, last time I was here," he said, trying hard not to peer into the valley of pendulous tit ravine that was beckoning him in. "Oh, sure; go ahead and check," Miss Waterton said warmly, letting him through the doorway. She couldn't help noticing he'd taken several glimpses at her swaying tits, with pretty much acres of them showing. He came in and said, "Oh shit, it's a sauna in here!" "Yeah, the air conditioner broke down this morning," the sweaty MILF sighed heavily. "Umm, I could take a look at it," Joey offered, as he tried not to stare at his best friend's Mom's tits too blatantly; and failing. "You could?" she asked as she closed the door, perhaps unwisely, because of the heat. "Yeah, I work during the summers for my Uncle Frank's plumbing and heating business, so I have a fair amount of experience not only with toilets and such, but also air conditioners and heaters," he explained, now admiring her long legs. She was really one hot older woman; and he could easily fill a ‘Big Gulp’ cup full with all the loads he'd shot while imagining he was fucking her. "That would be great," Sarah said gratefully, "I called every company I could google, and they all either didn't answer so I left a message they didn't answer, or they said they couldn't come over until the middle of next week at the earliest." "Yeah, they're all swamped during this heat wave," Joey said. "My uncle took a three-day weekend off for his fortieth wedding anniversary, or I'd be working today too." "Then thanks to you, today is my lucky day," she said. "I can't promise anything, but I'll give it a go," he said, trying not to ignite the throbbing cock in his shorts, and doing his best to hide that he desperately needed to adjust himself. Sarah happened to glance down and see an undeniable tent in the teen's pants. Part of her was flattered that she must have caused that erection, while another part of her was embarrassed for the same reason. "Is there anything you need from me?" He said, "Not really. I'll just go downstairs and take a look at the furnace." "The furnace?" she asked, that not making any sense to her. "Yeah, the air conditioner unit outside runs through the furnace in the basement," he explained, "that's why you can just switch the thermostat on the wall from heating to cooling and back again." "Oh, silly me," she laughed at herself, "that's so obvious." "No worries," he said, "it's likely not something you've ever needed to put any thought into," "I didn't until it stopped working," the sweaty MILF answered sourly. "I'll go check on it." "Okay, thanks." Joey took one more subtle look, or at least he thought it was subtle, at his best friend's Mom's cleavage, before heading downstairs. Sarah noticed his additional peek at her tits and the tent in his shorts as he left. Oddly; and confusingly; she felt a little tingle in her pussy. She supposed it wasn't that odd though, since he was actually a good looking young man. Plus, she hadn't been fucked in eight months. Her husband had left her for another woman two years ago. She'd gone on a couple of dates here and there since, but even though she'd had a terrible quickie eight months ago, when the guy had lasted less than two minutes and left her unsatisfied, she'd only ever come from her toys; of which she had a continuously growing collection, since she had a ferocious sexual appetite. In addition to three different expensive vibrators, she had a suction cup dildo for the bathroom wall, and hidden inside her walk-in closet was a Sybian. Yes, it had been several thousand dollars of expensive, but fuck, did it give her some great orgasms! But with all that said, she'd be lying if she claimed she didn't miss the great sensations of a real man with a living cock. She went to the washroom to pee, washed her hands, and came back to the kitchen to pull out the fixings she needed to make a salad. No way was she turning on the stove today; not even a burner! If Joey couldn't fix the air conditioner, she was definitely going out for dinner, and then perhaps to an air conditioned movie theatre. Once the salad was made, Joey came upstairs no longer wearing a shirt and said, "I'm going out back to look at the outside compressor." "Okay, sounds good," the suddenly distracted MILF said. Yes, she'd realized her son's best friend had bulked up in his senior year, but until this moment, she'd only seen him as Nate's nerdy friend. He'd finished high school with a 98% GPA for the four years, and would be attending UC Berkeley in the fall on a full ride scholarship, yet at this moment while she secretly admired his chiseled, sweaty chest, she saw him for the first time as an attractive man. He headed out the back door, and Sarah watched him leave, looking at him from the back end, and also for the first time, she noticed he had a great ass, and a rippled back. "What the fuck?" Sarah said to herself out loud, shaking her head for looking at her son's friend like he was a piece of meat. She definitely needed to get laid, and soon! She ate her salad, and he came back inside, saying, "I think I know what the problem is." "Is it fixable?" Sarah asked, the eighteen-year-old's impressive chest now all sweaty, and she couldn't help thinking how she'd like to lick that sweat right off of him. "I believe so," he said. "But to be sure, I need to check something else on the furnace." "Okay," she said, unable not to admire his perfect chest and pulsing biceps. While Joey headed downstairs, he sensed she was staring at him. He shook his head to clear away the impossible thought. Although during his senior year, he'd experienced a terrific reversal in his luck with the ladies. After a summer of plumbing work; which is surprisingly strenuous, when you're constantly inching yourself underneath floorboards towards impossible locations and such. He also made regular visits to the gym. In his senior year he was given head by Carrie, a chubby but cute girl on his debate team; then lost his virginity to Betty, a girl he met and competed against in the Speech competition. And he'd even gotten to fuck Amber for the last two months of the school year, a cheerleader who unfortunately was spending the summer in Europe. The suddenly horny MILF shook her head at her inappropriate thoughts. Needing to cool herself down both figuratively and literally, she went to the fridge and just stood in front of it with the door wide open for a few moments. She then took an ice cube from the freezer and slid it up and down and around her neck. It felt so nice to cool down just a bit! The melting ice ran down her chest, just as; "Oh my," Joey said, as he stared at the hottest woman he knew doing something that looked like it was straight out of an eighties sex comedy. His cock, which had gradually dropped into slumber while he worked, was now wide awake again, and ready for action in a heartbeat! But he must have made some noise, because... "Oh my, I'm so sorry!" Sarah apologized, hurriedly tossing the ice cube into the sink. "It's just so hot in here!" "But not for much longer; I almost have it fixed," he said brightly, wishing he could have been that ice cube; well; before she'd tossed it aside. "I just need to get something from my truck, and we'll be in business!" "Really? Sounds great!" she said. He left, and she thought to herself, ‘Oh, my God, how embarrassing!’ She reached for her phone to distract herself from her humiliation, and started scrolling through Twitter. He came back in and went back downstairs. As she scrolled through a bunch of ridiculous political posts that made her sigh at what appeared to be half of the country's idiocy, the discovery of an upcoming Hallmark movie that made her smile, and a funny cat video. She learned that today was National Nude Day (not to be confused with Naked Gardening Day, which was the first Saturday in May). She laughed, And given this heat wave, what a perfect day for it! Still sweating like crazy from the heat, she went and poured two glasses of iced tea; threw in four ice cubes each, so they'd stay cold for at least a few minutes, and went down to the basement to offer her unexpected handyman some ice cold refresh