Eveline's Strangest Journey Ch. 14

After the first time my wife slept with another guy in February we had amazing sex for a few weeks and both agreed if the chance came up again she should take it. We were invited to a friend's wedding around the Easter holiday, as it was a couple of hours away so we needed to get a room at the hotel where the wedding was. The ceremony was nice enough and it was good to catch up with some old friends, but in reality we just wanted a nice meal and plenty of alcohol. Sitting down to the meal, we were with a few couples we knew which made it more fun and a guy on his own - being a sociable bunch we all got chatting to him. Turns out Phil was 10 years younger than us, and his girlfriend had left him to go travelling a few months after they got engaged. We all commiserated him, the old lines like, what will be will be, plenty more fish etc. Carrie's eyes lit up at this point and gave me a wicked smile. I knew what the look meant and just mouthed 'Love you'. As the speeches ...

Ben was your average guy. Not super tall, not short either, and generally wore a tee and jeans most places. His dating accounts all had his name, pronouns, and a small blurb that he enjoyed group stuff. And the best part was, he had more than enough holes to use. After a few years of becoming comfortable with himself, his body, and his gender, Ben started to make more friends within his community. Trans people, gay women and men, and other queer people in general made up his regular interactions now. Ben often met up with his friend Alex. Today was one of those days. They went for coffee, grabbed some snacks on the way to Alex's place, and hung out on the couch watching tv for a few hours before migrating to the bedroom. Alex opened the door wide to let Ben in, then shut it gently. They embraced in the quiet of the room. Hands roamed, lips met, and ever so slowly, clothing found itself on the floor. Alex gently pushed Ben backwards, step by step, until his legs hit the bed. With ...

As many times as I'd seen it, the sight always took my breath away and made my heart skip slightly, leaving me very slightly weak in the limbs. My Sandra, hanging from a heavy eye-bolt sunk in the ceiling rafters by her arms, thick black leather cuffs cushioning the weight supported at her wrists with a thick, soft faux-fur lining. Well - not all her weight was on her wrists - I had left the chains just long enough that the tips of her toes touched the ground, although they weren't all that useful in helping to support her. Her petite, slender-limbed body swayed slightly as she hung there, occasionally shuffling or trying to stop her swinging with those toe-tips, mostly unsuccessfully. I just hadn't allowed her enough contact with the floor to give her sufficient traction on her feet and toes to move herself in any direction, or stop her movement in any direction in which I wanted her swaying. Her skin glowed a soft gold in the light of the two-dozen or so candles I had l...

Before I get started let me tell you about me and my husband. My husband's name is Juan, he is half German half Puerto Rican. He is 5'11 and 180 lbs. He is tan and has a 9 1/2 inch cock that is also really thick. He has his tongue pierced and has tattoos. My name is Sparsha, I am Indian, 5'2 and 100 lbs. I have a 38 b cup. I have long legs and a decent size ass for my body. I have always shaved my pussy and I got my hood pierced. I also have my bellybutton and tongue pierced. I also have tattoos. The day me and Juan finally decided to have sex was the best sex of my life! At this time I had intercourse with two other guys. I never gave a blowjob and no one ever licked my pussy. I didn't have a cock in my pussy bigger than 7 1/2 inches and not really thick either. Juan taught me how to suck a cock and he had a very talented tongue and he knew how to lick a pussy. Juan gave me my first orgasm. He fucked me like no one has ever fucked me and the first time it felt like I...

Call me Ishmael. That's a joke. Actually, the joke is my parent's. They had a sense of humor. It's my actual name. If you don't believe me, you can look at my NYC Driver's license. Anyway, this story ain't about me, it's about Angel. She works with me in the book store. Somedays I will see her. Climbing up the ladders in the store. Stretching to put books back on the shelf. Her red hair like a morning sunrise. Wearing a short, light green skirt and black heals. She is like the ballerina of books. The way she climbs up the ladder. The way she lifts her foot while she is stretching to reach the shelf. Her calves firm and curvaceous, her white thighs a highway to a dream. Hey, I know what you're thinking. This is librarian fantasy. Well, no. We work in and a bookstore. So, no. Duh. And two, she don't wear no glasses. Anyway, I digress. It was early. Only one decent coffee shop open in Burlington, VA fuckin early. I arrived at the bookstore and locked ...

I have been thinking about you all day whilst I have been at work. I would love to drop in on you at your work. I would meet you at your desk, take you in my arms, embrace you totally whilst kissing your mouth, chin and all down your neck. Grabbing your arse in both my hands, is everyone in the office looking? I don't care, I must have you. I turn you away from me and bend you over your desk, lifting your skirt to uncover your perfect arse in your delicate panties. I run my hands up your back, exploring every nuance of your spine, slipping my hands under the waistband of your skirt and into your blouse so I can caress your back all the way up to your shoulders. I grab your office chair and sit down on it so as my hands explore your back my face meets your lovely butt. I let one hand slide down your back to the top of your panties and I slide the tips of my fingers under the top of your knickers. I let my fingers trace around the curve of your arse and drift into your butt crack a...

The house was dark except for the kitchen stove light. My wife's car was there. It was early evening. The house should not have looked so lifeless. I parked and slowly exited the car. Dropping my briefcase near the front door, I entered the dining room. My wife sat at the table behind a full wine glass, the bottle nearby, only half-full. This morning, the bottle was unopened. Other than the bottle, several papers were on the table. I could not see what they were yet. Here we go, I thought, turning on the voice recorder app on my ever-present phone, thankful that we lived in a one-party-consent state. "How long have you known?" she asked. She did not look up at me. "Long enough," I said. I should stop to explain. When I came home, I had not anticipated this conversation. But I deal in clichés every day, so it was very easy to see where this was going. I'm a freelance writer. I do travel articles, humor, opinion, and advertising copy—whatever, really. I also...