Sexy Pic # 2

Well, I passed my pregnancy test with flying colors, what are you going to do about it.

The Caffieri.com Tally - Dec. 2014

The Caffieri.com blog has just passed 600,000 naughty reads for the month of December.

You can read my scandalous stories at the link below. 

http://www.caffieri.com/#XXX

But just to whet your whistle...here's sample tale. 

Welcome to the Working Wank

           

I don’t really know how I got into the habit.  Well, yes I do.  One typically tedious day at the office, I was looking something interesting up on the computer so I didn’t shoot myself out of boredom.  I don’t remember what it was now but one of the Google items listed on the first page was a story about a woman who had sex with her son.  What made me read it, I couldn’t tell you…but I did.  The more I read, the hotter I got.  I mean this story was seriously smokin’. It was lunchtime and my boss was out, so eventually I just lifted up my skirt and had a damn fine wank.  Right there in my drab, de-humanizing cubicle.  It was certainly a hell of a lot more enjoyable than the sandwich I’d just eaten, I can tell you.

The next day, I found another naughty little tale online and had two damn fine wanks.  Soon, this sordid but oh-so-scrummy behavior became just another part of my work routine.  Those delicious moments of self-plundering gave me something to look forward to during the long mornings of pointless typing and other bullshit duties.  I would peer up at that clock and ready my fingers for 12:30 when Mr. Mudrick left for his quick bite at the club.

This racy ritual went on unabated until…

It was a Tuesday and my lunchtime reading was a sizzling little saga concerning a housewife who goes to the grocery store and gets doggy-styled in the parking lot by a dusky stranger.  He had just pressed her up against the cold hard steel of an SUV and her rock hard nipples were squashed flat against the tinted glass.  Oooh, yum.  By this point in the story, I had my skirt up around my stomach and my underwear keeping my knees company.  It’s imperative that you time these things just right.  The trick is to increase the intensity and speed of your nether regional activities in sync with what’s going on in the narrative.  By the point you get into the heart of the big sex scene, you need to be whapping your woman wart to beat the band.  I was giving my vulva and clitoris a major kicking by the time I reached the penultimate paragraph.  My breathing was rushed, my face was redder than a Prince Edward Island potato and my sopping snatch had swollen up to the size of a Bundt cake.

And that’s when my boss popped his head around my cubical opening (No, that is not a naughty euphemism.).  I screamed and practically projectile plotzed from shock. 

When he realized what was taking up so much of my concentration, his face went arctic bunny white.  I yanked down my skirt but there was no pulling up my panties without even more embarrassment so I just let them slide down to my ankles, out of site. 

“Ms. Taylor,” he finally blurted out, “I’d like to see you in my office, when it’s…ah…convenient.”  And he rushed off. 

I was paralyzed with mortification.  What had I done?  What was I thinking?  I needed this job.  What was I going to tell my husband?  “Sorry dear, I got fired because I was too in love with my own cunt to leave in alone during working hours.”

I took a few moments to compose myself (and pull up my underwear) but finally, I managed to rise to my feet and bravely head off to face my sure economic doom.  He could have my job but dammit, he couldn’t have my dignity. When I got to his office, I immediately burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mudrick.  I’ve only ever done that unspeakable act the once and I realize now that it was completely inexcusable and if you don’t fire me, I will work every weekend for free until I die.”

Mudrick put up his hand to halt my disgraceful and dishonest performance.  “Please Joan; I’m not going to fire you.”

Now, I was totally disoriented. 

“I fully realize that your lunch period is your own and you should be able to do as you wish, but this is an office.”

“Yes, I know that sir, Mr. Mudrick sir, and I am so, so…’

Again, my boss put up his hand to stop my whiny blathering.  “All I wanted to say was, we have clients that could walk in on you as I did and…”

“I know that sir.  And believe me; I will gladly cut off both these hands before I ever use them to…”

Again he stopped me in my apologetical tracks.

“So, if you feel like…pleasuring yourself, please come into my office and do it here.  You can close the door and have all the privacy you require.”

I must have looked a little taken aback.

“Masturbation is nothing to be embarrassed about, Joan.  We all do it.  Hey, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve squeezed one out, I’d be retired on a beach in the Riviera by now.”

I was a little shocked at his “frank” talk, but I was really touched by his kind and gentle manner.  “Thank you sir.”  I actually curtseyed like some dim-witted maid.  This was really turning out to be a banner day for yours truly. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to wipe the blush off my face.  When I got home that night, I told hubby that I really didn’t feel like it.  I gave him a little handjob as a consolation prize and he was more than understanding.  Funny thing though, while I was stroking his penis up and down, all I could think about was Mr. Mudrick doing the very same thing to his own man handle.  That’s when I changed my mind and let Johnny fuck me.

The next day, I had absolutely no intention of taking my boss up on his amazingly understanding and generous offer, though I did feel a little plaintive tingle between my legs as lunchtime reared its naughty head.  At 12:25 Muddy popped his head into my cubicle. “I meant what I said.  I’ll be gone for at least an hour, if you feel the need.”

Nothing could have dragged me into that room at that moment.  I managed to stay un-self-sullied for an entire week.  But alas, I started reading this story on the computer about a guy watching a couple making love and removing the cock from his trousers and…well you know the rest.  By the time he’d cum into a nearby plant pot, I was hotter than The Human Torch in a sauna.  I tried to resist.  I really did.  The next thing I knew I was in Muddy’s office with my skirt up, my tits out and fingering myself senseless.  With an oak door between me and the rest of the staff, I could moan and sigh at will (Plus, lying on his couch was way more conducive to a good wank than sitting on an Ikea swivel chair.).  I flailed away on my nethers and tortured my nips for a good 45 minutes.  Orgasm followed orgasm as I unmercifully whacked the crack.  It was only after I started to get cramps in my wrist that I noticed what the time was.  Shit!  I jumped up like his couch had Ebola and pulled up my unmentionables.  Mr. Mudrick’s door handle began to turn and I practically shat an ice cream truck when he walked into the room. 

“Uh, hi,” I inarticulately stammered.  “I just came in to see if your…and it was…so.”

He smiled warmly at me and pointed to my chest.  I still had a tit hanging out!  Oh inconsolable shame!  I withered out of his office and went back to my impersonal jail cell.  Great!  So now my boss believed (and quite rightly so) that I was incorrigible wank-addict.

That night I had sex with Johnny, imagining Mudrick masturbating while he watched us going at it.  Hubby must have thought he was giving me the hump of a lifetime the way I climaxed.  His ears are probably still ringing.

From then on, it was a downward pearl-polishing spiral.  Now, I longed to get caught by Muddy.  I began to take off all my clothes before I went at it.  I waited longer and longer before starting.  Many times, I was still on the couch with my fingers buried deep inside my pud when he walked into the room.  Instead of jumping up and apologizing, I just kept going like some demented masturbating whore.  He would invariably walk over to his desk and tidy up some papers as I came like a demon from hell.  After I’d finished my ludicrous display of self-induced debauchery, I’d slowly get dressed in front of him, hiding nothing from his occasional gaze. 

This went on for weeks and weeks and Muddy was an absolute gentleman…damn him!  This “please come hither - no I won’t” stalemate lasted right up until the office Christmas party.  Usually, these things were about as much fun as having a pap smear at a funeral but this year I spent a month’s pay on my dress and hairdo.  I don’t know what I thought was going to happen but with enough alcohol in me, anything was possible.

Johnny and I arrived early and we immediately hit the bar.  By the time my boss glided into the room, my head was having a pleasant swim around Lake Bacardi.  Muddy was very gracious, of course.  He came straight over and introduced himself to my husband and told me how nice I looked.  I already wanted to wrap my twat around his head and face-fuck his nose but I kept my cool.  Sort of.  I’m sure I was smiling at him like a love-stuck gibbon, but I lied to myself that I was being the height of social-gathering sophistication.  

At some point during the evening, Johnny was off chatting some babe up over a rather rancid Merlot and I was on the hunt for more masculine prey.  Muddy was over at the hors d’oeuvres, trying to find something that didn’t look like vomit on a cracker.  I downed the last of my courage and traipsed over for a refill.

“Hello there, sir,” I smiled. 

“Enjoying the party, Joan?” he replied, rejecting something that had suspect bits of olive in it. 

“To tell you the truth, I’d rather be having a good wank in your office.”  My, oh my!  Wasn’t I the little inebriated libertine?  Luckily, he continued to smile.

“Well, I’m glad that our arrangement has worked out for you.  We like to keep our workforce happy.”

“I was happy three times yesterday,” I replied oh-so-brazenly.  “I hope I don’t, you know, embarrass you when I stay and ‘finish up’ after you get back from your lunch.”

“Oh no.  In fact I quite look forward to it.  Not that I, in any way, mean anything lurid by that.”

“You’re the least lurid man I know.  Too un-lurid sometimes.”

He paused for a moment.  Surely even Mudrick could take a hint that big.  I continued to barrel on like a drunken tart.  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about you touching yourself, like you told me you did all those times, that day you were so kind to me.”

“Really?”

Was that interest, I detected? 

“You know what I’d really like for Christmas?”

I think Muddy sensed that something untoward was about to be proposed.  He performed a quick scan around the room for significant others.   

“I’d like you to follow me into one of the offices, take that big cock out of your pants and whack on it till you cum all over me.”

Mr. Mudrick swallowed hard (Just like I wanted to do later!) then shook his head doubtfully.  “I couldn’t. Not with your husband so close by.”

Three minutes later we were in a broom closet.  I was on my knees with my top off staring at his crotch.  Slowly, he unzipped his pants (His sense of sexual drama was breathtaking.).  I think I actually licked my lips (For shame foul woman of intemperate appetites!).  Muddy reached into his underwear and, almost shyly, pulled out his penis.  I was very happy to see that it was still somewhat flaccid.  The thought of it growing in his hand as he stroked it was turning my vagina into an upside down puddle.

He ogled my rosy tits as he started to massage the head of his member.  Bit by bit the shaft swelled and filled up his fist.  I soooo wanted to suck on it but held back.  The visual was paramount.  Finally, he became fully erect with the bulbous end aimed directly at me. 

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.  “Tomorrow, I want you to fuck me with it in your office.”

His eyes closed as a ripple of pleasure shot up his man stem.  I was in absolute heaven as the rhythms of sex started to bewitch him; reducing him from a human being to a bestial force bent on blind satiation.  I poured it on.

“All I can think about is you stuffing your big boss cock into my simmering wet pussy.  Filling me up with your hot, steamy jizz.”

Muddy’s pace quicken and his head titled back.

“Play with your balls, baby.  Just like I’m going to do tomorrow.”

He did!  Mr. Mudrick started to tickle his nutsack with his left hand while he continued to rev up his schlong with the right.  His knees bent a little and his hips were pushed way forward.  A few little moans escaped him.  I knew he was about to blow.  My cunt was practically dripping by this time.  I craved to whap my dewy mound into chowder but I knew if I made myself cum at that moment I’d scream the building down, so I refrained.

Muddy’s right hand was now a blur as he pistoned away.  He was so close.  I opened my mouth. 

“I want you to cum on my tongue.  Can you do that for me baby?”

I thought I saw him nod his head slightly but that might have been caused by his violent penis-pounding.  Suddenly, he let out an “Ooof” sort of a noise and spurts of his creamy goo began to shoot out of him, into my mouth…and onto my cheeks and eyebrows and hair and chin.  His spew was everywhere.  What an orgasm!

Now that the semen show was over, I gobbled it up and sucked him clean.  It was the least I could do.  After about five minutes of serious licking and oral love, I pulled his underwear and slacks back up and made him presentable again.  I didn’t ask him to kiss me (I know guys are real funny about that, once you’ve swallowed their load) but did give him a Kleenex and requested he help remove his spunk from my hairdo. 

For a boss, he really took orders well!

Now, Muddy only leaves the office once or twice a month during the lunch hour.  About half the time we fuck up a storm and the other half we just watch each other masturbate. 

Sigh.  I just love my job.

Sexy Cover #1

Debbie just can't figure out why her vibrator is so darned noisy.

Have Yourself a Naughty Little Christmas.

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Myself and My Daughter Shouldn’t Have Aughta

            My daughter and I had this wonderfully brilliant idea to go on a ski trip as part of our Christmas vacation together. Nine glorious days of becoming healthy on the slopes by day and shit-faced in the chalet by night. This was Sandra’s first year away at college and I wanted to make sure that she couldn’t get away from me during her time off. Hey, moms really miss their kids! I could’ve picked a local getaway but that would’ve been too easy and inexpensive. No, I had to choose an ultra-exclusive resort in the middle of nowhere and in another state. 

As the days ticked down to our bacchanal on the slopes, my out-of-the-way choice of locations was sounding better and better. The weatherman was predicting a veritable avalanche of snowfall right after we arrived. Why it sounded absolutely paradisiacal. There were two very excited girlie hearts jumping into a rental car at the airport that Saturday afternoon. It was a 4 hour drive to the hotel which meant we would just get there in time for happy hour. Yes, this was going to be a vacation we would remember for the rest of our lives... And we didn’t know the half of it!

            It wasn’t until we are well into the mountains that we realized that the weatherman’s fortuitous prediction was a tad on the inaccurate side. Mother Nature alas, had no intention of abiding by his precipitory prognostications. Snow in startling amounts began to descend upon us and the winding road as we made our way ever further from civilization. By the time we realized our predicament, it was too late to turn around and increasingly impossible to continue on. Night was falling and our only path to salvation (and exotic mixed drinks) was quickly turning unnavigable. 

            Eventually, the inevitable occurred and we became hopelessly stuck in the snow bank. Needless to say, there was no phone reception or food and we had lacked the forethought to pack a six-day supply of emergency firewood in the trunk.

            “Now don’t panic,” I instructed my daughter as I panicked enough for the both of us. “The important thing is that we don’t leave the car.”

            “How long was this snowstorm going to last?” Sandra inquired, looking whiter than her surroundings.

            “Oh, not even a whole week,” I lightly tossed off.

             “We’re going to die out here, aren’t we?” She began to cry.

            “Oh don’t do that sweetie, we don’t have much bottled water with us either.”

            No matter my protestations, she was right. By the time they found us, we’d be long dead and frozen to the consistency of fish sticks. Something had to be done, but what?!

            An eternity past in that car and our extremities had dropped to the optimum temperature for light beer. Things did not look good. I just was about to offer up my body to my daughter as a series of life preserving dinner entrées, should it come to that, when a small light appeared in the distance through the trees. What was it? A house? A wintertime mirage designed to lure us out of the safety of our vehicle to our doom? We both sat and stared long and hard at the tiny illumination through the blinding snow and tried to construct a prudent and sensible course of action.

            “Well, I say we risk it,” declared my foolhardy daughter.

            “I agree,” replied her very frightened and irrational mother.

            There were two very heavy girlie hearts jumping out of the rental car that we picked up at the airport. And off into the darkened frosty woods we trod, not knowing whether we’d ever return to our shipwrecked Nissan Altima.

            The light turned out to be a lot further away than we’d imagined and our arduous trek was all uphill. Every once in a while it would disappear completely in a blinding wall of white but we kept our calm and our eye on the 60 watt prize. By the time we’d reached our destination, we were completely exhausted but also overwhelmingly relieved. The faint light turned out to be emanating from a rundown cabin with thin wisps of smoke rising up from a somewhat dilapidated chimney. While it wasn’t exactly the Dorchester Hotel, considering our dire situation, it was practically a palace made of gold and ivory.

            Sandra and I practically galloped through the knee-high snow to the front door of this humble abode. Our feet were numb and our hands ached from the cold and I wrapped on the unpainted door with the urgency of Judy Garland trying to enter the Emerald City. Our reception was actually quite similar to Ms. Garland’s. After a wait of several minutes, and a lot more frantic knocking, this grizzled mountain-man-like creature appeared in the window brandishing a rifle the size of a cannon. We both initially screamed. I mean, what woman wouldn’t? It was only after we gathered our wits, and realized how desperate we were, that we adopted warm, welcoming smiles towards this heavily-armed yeti.

            “Leave this place!” he bellowed from the other side of the glass.

            “Please sir, our car has broken down and we have nowhere else to turn,” I hid my fear and pleaded.

            “Leave this place!” He reiterated, banging the barrel of his rifle against the window.

            This was obviously not going very well. My daughter was looking particularly ashen. There was no other option, it was either convince this man-monster to allow us inside or we would surely perish.

            “If I could just talk to you sir, in private. We need so very little and I would gladly reward your kindness with all I have at my disposal.”

            “What the hell does that mean?” asked my very concerned daughter.

            I took a deep breath and confided in her, “Sometimes sweetie, there comes a time when you have to take one for the team.”

            “Mom no!”

            I knocked on the door once more, and called through the window, “If you would just let me inside for a few seconds, I’m sure I could convince you to help us.”

            There was a long cold pause as he menacingly stared in our direction. I tried to look as pretty as I could, considering I was half frozen to death. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he jerked his head to one side, indicating that I should come to the door.    

            Once inside, I made my case quickly and sincerely as I unzipped my parka to favorably exhibit what was on offer.

            “Please sir, we are desperate. If you will allow us to enter your cabin I will gladly submit to any and all requests you have of me.” I stuck out my chest to him like a flirtatious runway model, “I will deny you nothing. I would only ask that my daughter remains untouched.”

            He stared at me like an angry muskox for a few seconds, then grabbed my left tit and gave his squeeze. My initial reaction, of course, was to recoil in horror or slap his face but I did nothing. I allowed him to roam freely about my breasts in the hopes that he would agree to my proposal. I even attempted to smile.

            To tell the truth, I was petrified. He was 6 foot four or five and smelled like he hadn’t had a bath since the Merrimack went down. His long hair and beard only added to the mutant hillbilly vibe he had going. After several minutes of nipple tweaking and rough boob jiggling, he growled semi-agreeably and allowed me to let my daughter into the shack. The dilapidated decor may have looked like shit, but the warmth from the fire was the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

            “You want food?” he inquired in a tone that betrayed the fact that he really didn’t want a feed us.

            It’d been a long time since we’d eaten, and even then it was airport food! I nodded my head hopefully.

            “Take off your clothes,” he forcefully requested.

            “Mom!”

“No, it’s alright sweetie. We’ve come to an agreement.” I began to undo the buttons on my jersey. Within a few seconds I was down to my underwear. Sandra stared on in horror as I remove my bra and panties and Mountain Man leered at me like a psychotic Wookie.  When I was fully naked, he threw two unwashed bowls roughly down onto a door converted into a table. We were served some kind of meat stew. I didn’t ask and didn’t want to know from what sort of animal it was derived. While we were chowing down, our host stood behind me and molested my chest nonstop. Had this guy ever seen a pair of tits before? He kept pulling my nipples up and down like they were toggle switches. It was completely humiliating, creepy and sick. Needless to say, my daughter was inconsolably horrified…but kept right on eating. It’s not often you’re forced to sit and watch your mother being felt up by an orangutan over a bowl of suspect stew.

As bad as this was, I knew far worse was yet to come but I was determined to endure whatever heinous acts of depravity awaited me. There was no telling how long the storm was going the last. It was not only my life I’d think about the life of my daughter. Any price was worth paying for that.

Following the meal, we were allowed to sit by the fire for about half an hour while Mr. Hermit puttered around noisily. This was to be our only moment of comfort that evening. Upon finishing up his noisy after-dinner chores, he was ready for dessert. Unzipping his torn and filthy jeans, he pulled out his penis and waved it in my face. Poor Sandra looked away as I took him into my mouth. Surprisingly, he played with my hair very gently as I sucked his cock. He let out these low growling noises as I applied my oral wares. It sounded like I was giving a blowjob to a bear. I could also hear my daughter sniffling behind me. She was obviously very upset by all of this.

Five minutes into my throat stuffing ordeal, he pulled himself out of me and told us to both stand up. He proceeded to tie our hands together and then tie those ropes to the iron railings on his bed. Both Sandra and I both knew what was coming next. I watched our host removed his tattered clothes, exposing the strong muscular frame beneath. Once he was naked, he tapped my knee to let me know that it was time to spread my legs for him. I so hoped that he’d take a modicum of care and not attempt to just jam it inside me with his first bestial thrust. He climbed on top of me and while I wouldn’t call it standard foreplay, he did make an admirable attempt to grease the wheel before starting up the engine. Mountain Man licked and slobbered all over my breasts and wandered about my labia and clitoris with his callused hands but never attempted kiss me. Smelling his breath, perhaps this was just an act of mercy. Bizarrely, suffering through that raw, brutal victimization turned the flesh between my legs into a veritable puddle. Let’s just say, when he pushed the head of his penis against my vaginal opening, it met with very little resistance. Blush! Within seconds, his man meat had disappeared into me, right up to the very hilt. He grabbed my left tit roughly and began to hump me with breathtaking gusto. His animalistic noises, unnuanced fucking and the ropes that bound my hands were starting to have an unexpected effect. I glanced over my daughter who was tied to the bed next to us. The whole scene was like something out of a Paul Verhoeven film. I was thoroughly ashamed as I felt my cunt start to tighten around the shaft of his knob. What would Sandra think, hearing her mother coming like some saloon-room whore? I clenched my teeth as the climactic spasms started to rise up inside me in a desperate attempt to muffle any orgasmic screams or moans I might involuntarily emit. It was impossible to suppress all sound because the contractions rippling through my solar plexus were just too severe. I hoped that my daughter would my mistake these base utterances of concupiscent ecstasy for sounds of pain or anger. Alas, they were anything but. My efforts to suppress the unwanted orgasm only ramped up its intensity. Big squirts of my cum juice soaked the mattress around us. In the meantime, Mountain Man was slamming away inside me so ferociously, I knew he was about to burst. And boy did he ever! One would think a hermit locked away in a cabin in the woods would jerk-off incessantly and his sperm would be in short supply but the sheer amount of creamy spunk that poured out of him could have filled the medium-sized paint can. It was hard to imagine how there was enough room to store it all in just those two nuts hanging down between his legs. I was quite glad in the end that he decided to fuck me. Trying to swallow that much goo would’ve choked Paris Hilton.

The next couple of days, it never stopped snowing and our lives as indebted prisoners took on a sex slave-like routine. All privacy and dignity were denied. Mountain Man dressed and undressed us, bathed us, and even stood over us as we went to the bathroom. At meal times, he fed us and then would he fuck me. And this was after every meal! Three times a day! On the upside, I was getting much better at disguising my massive orgasms. After lunch on Christmas Eve, he decided to mix it up a little and flipped me over on the mattress. Yikes! I knew where this was going… Or should I say I knew where he was going?  Thinking quickly, I instructed Sandra to get the hand cream out of my purse and slather it around my sphincter and all over Wolfman’s schlong. I knew that lubricating his Wang would be uncomfortable for her but hey, I was just about to take one up the fudge tunnel! This was actually the first time I’d ever been sodomized. Somehow, being tied to a bed and fucked up the ass by a stranger seemed to proper initiation to this infamous sexual practice. Having a good size cock rammed up my colon was not as torturous as I imagined it would be though it did get a mite chaotic back there just before he came. After he finished and I was waiting for my butthole to stop throbbing, my daughter got down on her knees with some water and soap and slowly washed his penis and balls clean. I had the disturbing feeling that Sandra had gone from being horrified by witnessing her mother being continually ravished in front of her to jealous.

What to do? I mean, she was 18, if she wanted to have sex with someone of her own free will was I to stand in her way? That evening after dinner, when Mountain Man dangled his pant wad in my face, I took it in my hand and pointed it at my daughter.

“Would you like to do this?” I asked.

Sandra blushed brightly at first but then smiled and nodded her head. She took his boner out of my hand and wrapped her young pink lips around its swollen head. The way she licked and slurped on his wang, it made me a tad suspicious that she’d engaged in this kind of activity many times before. After a couple of minutes of expert sucking, my daughter returned him to my mouth while she nibbled on his balls and tongued his scrotum. From then on it was a sexual free-for-all. The three of us ended up in bed together with me feverishly licking his asshole while he fucked the life out of my daughter. Everybody came at least three times and then we fell asleep in a big pile of spent naked flesh.

When we awoke in the morning, Mountain Man had made breakfast, put up a little Christmas tree and wrapped two presents. I was actually touched. Plus, our jolly lumberjack had actually had a shower and was clean and presentable. Considering the bizarre circumstances, it was turning out to be a glorious Christmas day. The snow was even letting up a little. We jumped out of bed and the three of us enjoyed some eggs and toast and then Sandra and I got to open our goodie boxes.

Inside we found the cutest little wood carved figurines. Why, it must’ve taken him all night to have carved those for us. What a really sweet thing to do. Even though he had fucked me up the ass, I was beginning to have quite warm’s feelings for him.

My daughter administered our host’s morning blow job while I admired my charming rustic gift. It was as I was putting it back into its wrapping for safekeeping that a receipt fluttered to the floor.

“Are you coming over mom? (slurp, slurp) I think it’s about time for bed!”

I was staring at that little piece of paper and trying to figure out what it all meant when the date on it caught my eye. That absolute Fucker!”

“Take that cock out of your mouth, he bought these at a store today!”

“What!?”

“Get off your knees and get dressed, we’re getting out of here.”

Before you could blink, we had our clothes back on and had stormed out of Mountain Man’s cabin. With the improved visibility, it only took is about 10 minutes to find the path through the woods of lead down to a 7-Eleven and a gas station! Within the hour we had chains on our tires and were back on our way to the ski lodge.

As we renewed our journey, my daughter and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Our hermit Santa had figuratively and literally screwed us both.

When we finally got to our destination, we drank the bar dry, picked up the cutest guy we could find and spent the rest of our stay in the hotel room.

Christmas may only come once a year but my daughter and I can do it all night long!

The End

I Let a Tranny into my Cranny

Below is one of my most recent stories. You can find in and over 50 more lurid tales at the link below.

http://www.caffieri.com/#XXX

I Let a Tranny Into My Cranny

            My name is Sandra and I’m bi. Well, sort of bi. I’ve fucked some guys and I’ve certainly done my share of party-night knob-gobbling but really, I consider my fellow gals to be the gold standard when it comes to nookie. I mean, they’re just so darned delicious and cute, ain’t they?

            I guess my attraction to the fairer and bumpier sex began during those formative and blazingly dull high school years. My God! When I think about the amount of money I spent on booze trying to get cheerleaders drunk at parties…it was so totally worth it! Getting my face comfortably ensconced under one of those short little pleated skirts was my version of crack. The poor girl in question would practically have to beat me in the head with a stick to get me to stop lickin’ her chicken.

Not that it was in any way easy getting “a straight” to let me clean her plate. It was a percentage game. With guys, I succeeded in my seduction (no matter how half-hearted) about 99.9 percent of the time. With girls, I scored about as well as a handsome guy did. And I must say that I gained a new respect for the male swain. The groveling, expense and sheer tenacity it takes to bed a happenin’ babe is truly staggering. And I wasn’t even going to get her pregnant!

Since those innocent, insouciant and wasted days of my youth, I’d wandered back and forth between the sexes like a certain embarrassingly-short action movie star. Eventually, I met a nice young lady with a pair of eyes that could set off car alarms and we proceeded to spend the next couple of years furiously fondling each other’s naughty parts. But, like a Walmart carpet, things quickly began to fray around the edges.

            I finally forced to break up with Miranda, when she had the sheer gall to follow me to a business meeting and find me cheating on her with a waitress from our favorite restaurant. Let’s face it, once the trust in gone in a relationship…it’s pretty well time to start dividing up the dinnerware.

            So there I was, an eligible young bachelorette with four place settings of Waterford China and an eye for the ladies.  Naturally, I went straight back into my alley-cat mode. I hit the lesbian bars like they were Ted Nugent’s chin. It was not unusual to find me waking up in two or three different badly made beds a week (when I wasn’t entertaining in my own boudoir). Alas, as much as I liked fucking around, I also missed having a steady girlfriend to cheat on. So, after a few months of fun and games and sneaking out of strange bedrooms, I decided to start looking around for relationship that was a little more permanent than sunrise.

            My problem was I didn’t quite know precisely what qualities I was looking for in a shack-up happy hottie. A nice pair of tits and a tight ass are wonderful for an evening’s entertainment, but sadly not nearly sufficient to carry one through the Dinah Shore Weekend and holidays with the folks. I got so desperate, I even considered a finding guy. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the ornamentation that the male of the species comes equipped with. I have an entire draw full of strap-ons and dildo’s at home to prove it. Hell, I even like the taste of spunk – how many totally straight girls can say that? It’s just; one just gets a tad homicidal, having to put up with all the shit that comes along with a gentleman’s genitalia.

            A Most Interesting Turn of Events:

            Debbie, a really good friend of mine, was throwing an obscenely lavish party for her husband’s birthday, so I figured I’d head on over and help myself to a little cake and champagne. If there was no one interesting in attendance (and when I’m drunk, you really don’t need to be that interesting), I planned to just stay over as his special gift. I’d probably done Deb more times than her bubbly hubby had and Jack never seemed to be particularly put out when I’d climb into the old marital bed with the both of them.

            By nine o’clock, things were progressing along as you’d think. I made banal and shallow conversation with people who I barely knew and liked even less, while consuming unwise amounts of mid-priced cabernet. My pretty head was swimming a little bit by the time they reached the cake cutting ceremony. That rich buttery icing was beginning to look about as appetizing as most of my fellow guests and then I saw her. She walked into the room like the sun returning to the Earth after a long cold winter. Babs was a fucking first-round knockout. I started lubricating before she even took off her coat. The next part was tricky. It was important to play it cool but not wait too long or she’d be buried under a pile of men before I got a chance to talk to her.

            “Hi there,” I smiled, handing her an obscenely-sized glass of champagne. “So, how do you know Deb?” Gosh she looked edible.

            “I met her through her work,” she smiled back.

            Debbie was in the medical referral business, so I didn’t delve into the subject any deeper, lest I delve into something really icky.

            At first I was just interested in the mind-blowing sex but as I got talking to her, there was more to this girl that an ass that cried out for a spanking. Barb had such a great sense of humor and a brain that made me wish I hadn’t had so much to drink. This was soooo the girl I wanted to take home and possibly even stay home with.

            I started out with witty conversation and a light flirt. The glass I had in my hand went unsipped the rest of the night. It was time to get my faculties back, if I was going to land the big catch of the evening. Sure, there was some well-hung competition but I held in there. Luckily for me, men don’t have a ginormous attention span when it comes to hunting their concupiscent prey and I was playing the long game not the schlong game.

            “You know, I’ve really enjoyed talking to you, tonight,” I cooed, upping the flirt quotient just a tick.

            “It was nice meeting you too,” she replied. I tried to detect any favorable coloring in her phrasing but she was very hard to read.

            The party was beginning to wind down and it was time to make my move.

            “So, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” I batted my eyes.

            “I have an early day tomorrow I’m afraid, but I would love to see you again.”

            Shit! She was going to make me date her! Buy her dinners. Take walks through the some grass-infested park. Shit like that. And I did. I worked harder on getting into this girl’s pants than I’d worked on anything in my life. She’d give clues that she was interested and then the next minute she was pulling back. Girls can be so frustrating sometimes!

            I was wanking it so much back then I could hardly feel the tips of my fingers. I gave up all my other “acquaintances”, just in case Babs called late one night and I was otherwise engaged.

            We were out one night at a party and I managed to slide enough booze into her that she didn’t think she should drive home. Why, I hadn’t had that much to drink and my car was just outside! The only sensible thing would be to let me take her home. Which is exactly what I did. When we arrived her apartment, I insisted on escorting Babs up. Why, in her inebriated state, who knows what catastrophes might befall her.

            There was lots of holding and body touching and supporting my giddy little angel as we navigated our way into the elevator. Once the doors closed and the floor was pushed, my strength inexplicably gave out and she fell face first into my lips. That first real kiss was as magical as a fucking Disney movie. I could almost see the cartoon birds flying around our heads as we smooched. My tongue practically loosened my two front teeth, trying to get into her mouth but I kept it at bay. Mustn’t rush things now I was standing at the very gate of her girly mansion.

            “Ooh, sorry,” I lied.

            “That’s okay,” she slurred. “I really like you.”

            “Well, I like you too.” And I kissed her again. This time, I swear she kissed me back.

            We got to Bab’s apartment door and I could feel my entire vaginal complex screaming for me to get my act together and close this deal. Anything but face another night getting whapped insensate by my own fingers. She tried to wave me off at the door but I insisted that she was in urgent need of guidance to her bed. I didn’t wait for an answer; I just pushed her through the door. Even shit-faced drunk, she was still eye-meltingly gorgeous. I felt quite guilty about taking advantage of her in her intoxicated state but hell, she wouldn’t let me fuck her sober!

            I managed to maneuver her into her bedroom, assuring her that I was just going to deposit her onto the mattress and leave. I felt like such a guy, lying to her that way.

            “I’m really fond of you,” Bab’s slurred again.

            “And I’m fond of you,” I replied, giving her a big wet soul kiss as I placed her butt on the down comforter and began to take off her top.

            “Noooo,” she half-protested.

            “Now, you can’t sleep in your clothes,” I lightly admonished her and removed her bra. And oh how those girlies sang to me like they were the Judds as I sent them free. Perfect, beautiful, perky and right in front of my nose. I pretended to accidently grab a hold of them as I pushed her back on the bed in order to remove her jeans.

            “No. I can’t…”

            That’s all I let her get out. I put my mouth on hers and went to tongue town. I was unzipping her and unbuttoning me and lapping at her larynx. By the second or third minute of my brazen and unprovoked attack on her virtue, she was starting to reciprocate my rapid-fire ravishings. I felt her hand slide slowly up my skirt. I already had my blouse and bra off by this point – sometimes with straight girls, you have to act fast or they come to their senses. There was a slight pullback when I started to knead her naughties but I have a lot of experience polishing the puss and eventually her token resistance waned.

            My skirt was on the floor and all that remained were those damned jeans. I lowered myself into position to spend some major face-time with her nipples, while also subtly yanking the pants off her hips. Once there was a little space to maneuver, I dropped my hand down to take that sweet maiden voyage down her slit slide. When I got there however, things were not as I expected. There were no shaved puffy lips and dripping honey that I could feel. I seemed to be holding a lump of flesh that I didn’t quite recognize.

            “Maybe we should stop,” Bab’s whimpered.

            Hell, if I was going to take her advice, we’d still have all our clothes on. I dove down for a closer look.

            Was it? No it couldn’t be. A couple of delicate tugs and out popped a nice sized doowanger that she’d tucked-up in between his/her legs. Lord love a duck, I had myself a shemale! So now, I had this big cock in my face and I was trying to figure out what to do. Without the alcohol and the horniness, I might have walked away. But as it was, I’d come this far…

            I dropped down, taking the swollen head into my mouth and basting it with my tongue. Little sighs and moans rose up through Bab’s throat as I tickled her nuts and nibbled my way up and down her shaft. The jeans came off pretty easily now. I lifted my leg over and plopped my vagina down on her face. My little Barbie doll dug into my lips and fuck-hole like she was searching for a dark chocolate truffle in there. Wow! I hadn’t done a sixty-nine with a cock in over a year but I was really digging this one. After a scrumptious amount of knob-gobbling and scrotum licking, it was time to turn that boat around and head into uncharted waters.

            Bab’s seemed to have sobered up somewhat and twisted me onto my back. Quite nicely, as I recall. Now, I had this gorgeous girl on top of me, with her tits and long hair hanging down. There wasn’t a trace of masculinity up top, but down bottom…she was all man! Babs was as hard as a rock as she slid her generous slab of pant meant further and further inside me. Mother of all fuckers, it felt good! I reached up and grabbed hold of those amazing funbags and basked in their bouncy, jiggly glory as Barb started to pump her Johnson all the way up into my fallopian tubes. I could feel my cunt tighten around her rod as he powerfully rammed it home.  I wrapped my legs around hers, stared into that pretty face and let her hump me to a huge one. Massive blasts from quivery quim bombs exploded up from between my legs and practically blew the top of my head off. I had my nails dug so far into her ass, I could have gone bowling with her. My teeth were clenched and my pelvis was bouncing up and down like a lowrider’s car. Meanwhile, Bab’s was wanging away in there like she was trying to churn butter with her dick. The massive load of goo she fired into my vaginal canal made it feel like I had a firehose up my twat. The creamy overflow leaked back out the sides of my devastated orifice and dribbled onto the sheets and down the inside of my legs. After the main barrage of spectacular spasms had crested and ebbed, multitudinous ripples of after-cum rivulets flowed up through my torso and formed little tingly whirlpools in my tits. The afterglow was almost as good as the sex.

            “Wow! That just about gave me an aneurysm. I’d like to have that orgasm laminated and keep it in my purse,” I cooed and snuggled in her arms. Men’s chests are okay, but I like boobs. But, I also like to play around with a guy’s soft one and balls after the big show, so that was really cool too. It didn’t take much tactile teasing to get it all stiff and lonesome again, so she flipped me over and gave my box another good bashing.

            When we woke up in the morning, we had a lot to talk about. Once she fucked me, of course. My climax was so powerful it loosened two of my fillings.

            “So, I assume you like boys,” I ventured.

            “I like both and I really like you.”

            Phew, that was a relief.

            “I just feel more comfortable as a girl.”

            “And what plans did you have for your appendage?”

            “Well, I was going to get a vagina near the end of the year.”

            “Oh please don’t,” I blurted out. “I adore you and you’re everything I want in a man and a woman.”

            “Wow. You’re probably even more screwed up than me.”

            “Just give me a chance to make you happy and give your cock a chance to make me happy.”

            Babs thought it over for a minute or two…and then she fucked me again. I took that as a positive response.

            Since that day, we’ve been “an item”. I let him have the odd boy and we go pussy hunting together. The girls we bring home are a little freaked out at first when they see “the surprise” but once I get through with them, they can’t get it inside them fast enough.

            So, my name is Sandra and I’m bi - but luckily, Babs is my one-stop shopping. Wink!