Summer at Aunt Sylvia'sIt was the summer holidays and having bummed around the house long enough to irritate my Mother I was packed off to go and stay with my Aunt Sylvia for a few weeks. I wasn't particularly bothered by this, most of my college friends were away on holiday and I'd grown bored of lazing around the house and getting nagged at. Besides, my Aunt and Uncle were well off and lived in a house that was way too big for just the two of them to rattle around in. After a rather tedious train journey on a sweaty, packed train I finally arrived at the station to be greeted by my Aunt waving enthusiastically at me.
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The door of the swingers club opens and we walk downstairs into a dimly lit room where a olive skinned woman with long black hair in her mid 40s dressed in stocking, suspenders, heels and a basque greets us. She is about a size 16 and has large breasts spilling out of her basque top. She looks us up and down very suggestively and she is flirting with us both. You are dressed in killer black heels a short shirt with stockings and suspenders underneath.
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Your room is softly lit by dozens of flickering candles. Their flames cast ever-changing shadows against the walls. Open French doors to the balcony allow the gentle night breeze to stir the curtains and bring the fresh scent of confederate jasmine inside. The stars are shining and the silvery moon is full. Night sounds create a background of harmony and peacefulness. Half submerged in your Victorian bath, frothy bubbles overflowing, you sigh contentedly as you dream of my touch. Sprinkled rose petals outline your breasts and mingle with the scented oils you liberally added before you began.
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You are lying there, peaceful and content after an incredible wave of passion. Your skin is flushed and glistening with perspiration. Your nipples are still hard and your breasts swollen. Creamy wetness is still flowing from your open sex as you lay there with your legs comfortably parted. The scent of your arousal and release lingers in the room. Candles soften your contented smile. I watch you as your tongue slowly licks your lips, remembering our mingled taste when you took me deep in your mouth afterwards. Our passion was an erotic mixture you savored and shared with me in your gentle kisses.
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Hi, I'm Jaime, and I've got a bit of a thing when it comes to lingerie. I love all sorts, from skimpy G-strings to lacy basques, and on evenings when I'm staying in alone l often strip down to my underwear. I especially like panties, which can be pulled tight into my pussy, creating a delicious, tingling friction, which soon has my love juice flowing. So naturally when Jake, an old flame of mine, mentioned to me that a college pal of his had started designing lingerie I wanted to hear more. Steve went one better, and set up a meeting with the designer at her place in the countryside.
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Jack was the owner of a weapons manufacturer based in the Midwestern United States. He inherited the company from his father at age 28 when his father passed away. Now 34, Jack was firmly entrenched as the CEO and was, for all practical purposes, set for life. At six feet tall and 170 pounds, Jack was not an imposing figure. However, his three piece suits and clean shaven face told the world he was all business. To relieve his stress, Jack flew to Vegas three or four times per year for a couple days.
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I was 18, my mother was somewhere in her early 40's. She would never tell me her exact age and to be honest, I was baffled that she was past her 30's. We lived in a house, just the two of us. My father had left when I was younger, but it never phased me or my mom any. My relationship with my mother was an average mother-son relationship. Nothing out of the ordinary really. I would come home from school and play sports or video games, she would come home several hours later from work and would head straight to her room for the night. If I was hungry I would have to make myself something simple to eat and head to bed on my own. Mom always went out with friends on Fridays and Saturdays.
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After our second child my thirty-five-year-old wife complained that it was much harder for her to loose the weight and get her figure back. I just liked her large milk filled breasts. So anyway she joined a yoga class that met twice a week. That meant that I got stuck babysitting. Even though she expressed her mother's milk and put it in bottles for me, it was still a pain in the ass to warm it up and get our new daughter to drink it. The bright spot in all that was watching her get ready to go. It required her to take a bath while I watched and handed her our two-month old daughter to bathe. Then she carefully shaved her pussy.
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Claire sat at her desk, recalculating the spreadsheet she was working on for the umpteenth time. 'God I hate annual budgets' she muttered to herself and scrolled to the bottom to see the effect her latest changes had made. 'That's better', she said as she compared the new figures to her targets with a mixture of pride and relief in her voice, stretching to relieve the cramp in her arms and shoulders. The glass fronted office she was sitting in was a pool of light in the midst of the rest of the dark building, broken only by the dim glow of the night lighting in the corridor beyond. Claire got up and went across to the window, high above the city streets. The traffic was lighter at this time...
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Katie walked down the dark streets of the rows and rows of townhouses, smiling to herself as she did. The wind blew gently in the night, lightly playing with her long blond hair. The music and noise from the party she just left died away in the dark and cold night as she made her way back to her car a few streets away in the Car Lot. There's no sound except for the gentle whispers of the wind in the night air. Katie stopped at her car, putting her purse on the hood to fumble for her keys buried in the depth of it. Soft footsteps behind her begin. She stops cold in her movements, turning around to see if one of her friends were trying to scare her.
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