A bright sun rose over the town of Greenfield, bringing with it a warm day, a day of green trees and blue sky, a day of laughter and happy families and infinite possibilities, a day on which one wouldn't normally expect to encounter ghosts. However, if one were to ask anyone in Greenfield where such ghosts might likely reside, they would no doubt speak of the house at the end of Randolph Street. They would make it clear that there are no such things as ghosts, of course, especially not in a happy little community such as Greenfield. But if there were, then that would be where to look for them. They might even tell you the names of the ghosts: Mr. and Mrs.
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Deana sat looking at her computer screen, her mind drifting back several months to the first night she worked as a well-paid whore. She was well seasoned now with a lot of experience about men. Her current fetish was black men. Their big cocks made her tremble with lusty desires. They all came to her for one thing; her hot, shaved, white pussy. Once the word got around that she was married, Deana became very popular with the older men. She looked over at the sofa where her friend Lucy was sleeping. Together they have worked as personal escorts, if you know what I mean. Why not, they had to pay their bills. Deana personally had more than a hundred thousand dollars in her private account.
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My day began early. I knew what was going to happen that evening and was VERY excited for it. I had been thinking about what I was going to do all week and there wasn't a day that my panties weren't wet from it. Just thinking about it made me cream my pants. I got out of bed and went to cook breakfast. My lover was still asleep. I made a full meal: eggs, hash browns, sausage, bacon, pancakes, and waffles. My lover woke to the smell of them and immediately came into the kitchen. "Wow!" he exclaimed, "someone's been up for a while." We ate and decided to start our day. This particular day was dedicated to outside work.
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This is the second story I have written about my wife stacy.she is 21 years old a natural blonde with shoulder lenth hair. A size 12 figure and is 5ft 7 in height. Stacy is a total nympho{hence the story headine}and will suck any cock she can get her lovely hands on she has blown roughly 500 different men of all ages,shapes,sizes and colours.as well as about 10 dogs and 2 horses.she doesn't have sex with everybody she blows and I would say she has slept with about 300 of the guys she has sucked off.
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I had to go to Southern California on a business trip and my wife Stacy wanted to go with me to visit her sister. Stacy hadn't seen her sister Laura in a couple of years and my wife was looking forward to a week with her only sister in the warmer weather. The sisters were almost complete opposites. My wife Stacy being petite with D cup breasts, red hair, pale skin, and lots of freckles loved the colder climates. While her sister Laura was a tall leggy blond with tanned skin and dark eyes that loved warm weather and beaches. Our flight arrived, we picked up the rental car, and soon were at her sister's.
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The third person I ever had sex with was my husband so you couldn't call me promiscuous. I lost my virginity aged 18 during a drunken student party and I was not at all impressed with the whole sex thing. The second man came along two years later; he was my first long term love, well a few months anyway. Then there was Paul, we dated; we got engaged and eventually married. I didn't know and didn't care if our sex life was good or not, it was good enough for me. We had and still do have sex regularly and he brings me to completion more often than not, I was content. We were celebrating 10 years of marriage and my 35th birthday with a foreign holiday.
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Danni finished work early and rushed home to fulfill a desire within herself. She had just broken up with her boyfriend and she was aching for some attention paid to her pussy. That evening while at work she download some porn and instead of doing spreadsheets, she was wishing she could indeed spread some sheets. The office was quiet at this time because only three women worked the late shift, and they were in separate offices.Sometimes the owner of the company stayed around to complete his business transactions.
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Like usual, we chat on line telling each other what we were going to do when we finally hooked up. What we would do on our big Valentine's Day date. What we would wear. What we would eat. What... What bullshit. You are words on a computer screen -- nothing more. You aren't really real. I know in my ever so logical mind that I would, once again, be spending this Valentine's Day's night alone. I find myself sitting in my room wanting you. Wanting you to be here after our "big date". Wanting to have you read me that Valentine's card full of clich?that you had gotten for me. Wanting to read you the Valentine's poem that I'd written just for you. Roses are red...
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He felt himself in such a quandary and was unsure of the exact moment in which he felt the night take a turn for the worse to put him in such a position. He tried to reflect back on the night and figure out just where things went awry...
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PrologueShe wanted to remember. The hookah was a beautiful piece. It stood at 4.5 feet. Dark red... it always was her favorite color. This hookah was her personal prize. It only had one hose, one smoker. She pulled the airtight box from its hiding place and opened the lid. Once released, the heady aroma drifted, tickling her nose. The new batch of bud was a dark green, but the crystals were so thick it turned everything pastel. Breaking it apart just enough to smoke easy, she arranged the weed in the hookah's bowl. Covering everything and arranging the freshly lit charcoals, she lifted the velvet covered hose and took her first drag.
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