Two Dreamy Girls 2

My girlfriend, Lyndsey, had just seduced Sarah on the bed. Lyndsey now lay back on the bed as Sarah moved down to her feet. She kissed her bare legs from ankles up to her knees, leaving a glistening trail on Lyndsey’s skin. When she got to her knees, she unfastened her skirt, pulled it down and tossed it onto the floor. Unimpeded, she ran her tongue up the inside of Lyndsey’s thigh. Lyndsey had her neck craned so that she could see what Sarah was doing. I had a pretty good view myself, kneeling on the bed as I was.

Hands sliding underneath Lyndsey’s buttocks, Sarah cupped them as she dabbed her tongue on the front of her knickers. She had to remove one hand to pull the knickers to one side, and once she had, her tongue darted out and slithered slowly up from the bottom of Lyndsey’s crack to the top. The knickers were obviously in the way so she pulled them down and off, and resumed. Continue reading Two Dreamy Girls 2

Having Sex On Ecstasy – Getting Home

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

Blowjob On A Plane

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