Well, I passed my pregnancy test with flying colors, what are you going to do about it.
Browse and Arouse
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Sunday, December 14, 2014
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.
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
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.
Have Yourself a Naughty Little Christmas.
My Mini Collection of short Christmas stories is now available.
It's only a buck - you could do a lot worse.
And I'm even providing you with a free sample!
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
“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
Friday, December 12, 2014
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.
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!
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