Summer came, and with it a new tenant next door. Lynne moved in to the house next to where I was renting, so I wasted no time in introducing myself. I invited her out for a drink to help her settle in, even though it was only midweek. She said yes, so we strolled to a local pub that was within walking distance.
Lynne was a good looking woman, of Caribbean descent, average height, with a pretty heart shaped face and she wore her hair up. This evening, she was wearing a pair of faded jeans that were tight over her thighs, and that flaired out a little at her ankles. A thin, flower patterned blouse covered an impressive bust that stood proudly in front of her. Her slimness accentuated the prominence of her large bosom. It was one of the first things I noticed about her. That, and her charm. She was intelligent, saw humour everywhere, and her laughter reminded me of diamonds tinkling into a porcelain dish.
As we walked to the pub, I noticed Lynne’s graceful movement as she walked. She was almost feline. Her easy manner made me feel comfortable. Continue reading Sexy Housewarming
After our foreplay, we made our way upstairs.
Once inside the bedroom I stripped quickly and joined her on the bed as she was removing her bra. I stared at her massive tits as they bounced down, unfettered. Two large, milky white globes of bouncy goodness, tipped with light brown nipples. Christ, I had to get my hands on those!
Sitting next to her I kissed her again and my hand went to one of those boobs. Cupping it, I marvelled at how firm it was. It was too big for my hand, but it was perfect. If I had to design and manufacture a breast, it would look and feel like this one. The next thing I knew, I was lifting her heavy breast and sucking greedily on her nipple, while her hand searched for my stiff cock. When her fingers closed round it, I realised how hard I had become. I bet I could batter a door down with that, I thought to myself inanely. The thought made me chuckle and that made me laugh uproariously. Continue reading Having Sex On Ecstasy – The Bedroom
As I bumped, ground and grooved to the banging dance music, I was utterly preoccupied. The girl I had been kissing so passionately had disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving me hot and frustrated. I could have fucked her right there on the dancefloor, I was so turned on.
The sweeping and flashing lights swirled around me as I tried to get into the music. Twenty minutes later, I had got into the music and the girl was a pleasant memory. Such is the nature of ecstasy. I was so “up” I felt like the funkiest man on the planet. I also felt like the sexiest, and although the girl was a pleasant memory, she was also part of my intended future, and I resolved to scour the place for her, come closing time. The club shut at 4am and I thought I’d start looking for her at about 3:45am. Continue reading Having Sex On Ecstasy – Getting Home
It was dark, I had popped an ecstasy pill 90 minutes earlier and I was in a gay club. The music was banging and as I was dancing I felt sexually attracted to everything that moved, and some things that didn’t. I just didn’t care. Damn those white doves.
I was at that point in the ecstasy journey where I felt euphoria, energy and an urge to have sex with someone, anyone. I loved everyone. In particular, I loved a girl I had just spotted who was wearing a top that showed off a fabulous pair of breasts. It was a weird design; it was double breasted and one side overlapped the other between her breasts, but so low down that you could see a lot of those breasts. Continue reading Kissing On Ecstasy
I’d seen her in the airport departure lounge, walking towards a table in one of the cafes. She was probably in her early twenties, was only slightly chubby and was buxom with it. She had on some jeans and the black top she was wearing was figure hugging; it covered her right shoulder, but left the other bare. As she walked, her breasts wobbled precariously and her top revealed enough of her left breast to keep me riveted. I couldn’t help but fantasize about it falling out somehow. Maybe if she ran, or something. The image of a blancmange wobbling in a mould came to mind. A tit shaped mould. Continue reading Blowjob On A Plane