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"I'll be back in 15 minutes," I told her as she reached for the handle."Okay," she replied, the smile still plastered across her face. "Andthank you, Megan. I thought that Sarah had made this the best birthdayparty ever. But you just topped that. Thank you." You're welcome, Katy," I told her. She nodded once more before openingthe door and climbing out.She was giddily skipping toward her house as the limo started movingaway.---It was closer to 20 minutes later that I pulled my car into Aunt Judy'sdriveway. I felt, and looked, completely different as I walked up to thefront door this time; when the door opened, the girls didn't startscreaming. But Katy did. She screamed and launched herself at me beforewrapping me in another hug. She didn't say anything, but I knew that shewas still excited about what I had told her."You missed all of the fun!" she was still screaming as she let me go."Sarah Carerra was here!" What?" I asked back. "What was she doing here?" She came and sang us a few. A high higher than high. Higher than heroin. Fleshy confines strong yet tender. Glancing at the clock, her breath caught. X constricted around her body tighter, and she felt their heartbeats sync.All six of them.Without submerging her, X cushioned her on a raft of swirling muscle. Her nose pierced the water tension as her breasts slipped between her torn blouse, dark nipples hard from the frigid claws of her aquatic prison.The buzz painted goosebumps down her body. X's fiery arms wriggled their way over every available space. Skirt hiked over her hips, bra yanked down, gusset pressed to the side, Venus closed her eyes and curled her toes in anticipation.“Take me," she whispered.As tendrils flicked over her sopping entrance, scraping against the tight curls of her mons, and twirled over the smooth contours of her neck, Venus wondered how she came to crave a beast who could kill her.Venus flailed and splashed above the surface while X racked her body back and forth. More electric than.
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He was a 73-year old pianist who played with some of the most renowned orchestras in the world and a respected music professor. He was 5'4, on the heavy side, bald with neatly trimmed gray hair on the sides of his head, wore round spectacles, was always dressed in a suit sans tie (bow-tie if a tie was required) and very kind. I only bottomed when I met Michael and I remember him telling me, "My dear, you'll be disappointed to know I'm without the equipment for that and have had to go bottom myself."If I wanted to be with Michael, and I absolutely did, I'd put up with being "versatile." The first time I fucked Michael was passionate, filled with lots of moaning, grinding, pounding, and a hell of an orgasm. I still miss the sight of his white chubby body, the back of his head buried into a pillow, and the voice he moaned in telling me "Oh yeah, baby" and how he'd take me into his arms after I exhausted myself inside of him, telling me, "That's it, my sweet man. Just breathe," as he.

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