November 30, 2006
She was 73, I was 37. The planning of what I am about to explain has been in the making for years. It all started last year and has been going on almost everyday since then.
Her name is Elnora and she is the Grandmother of my wife. She isn’t very tall or a full figured women, but what she does have is… well you will just have to read on a little more to find out for yourself.
Last summer, my wife received a phone call and needed to go out of town for some personal business. I was left home alone with “Baby” as we call her because I had to work. That next evening when I came home I had expected to release some built up sexual tension. Then I remembered that the wife was gone. I showered and decided that I would fix Baby and I something to eat and throw in a video and masturbate instead.
What happened next was far from that. I was in my bedroom watching this porn flick with two younger men banging away at this older chick. I had greased up my cock pretty good and was going at it pretty good whe
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November 29, 2006
*The Following Story is Completely Fictional*
My grand father passing away was one of the hardest days of my life. What happened the night before his funeral was one of the best . . .
I stepped outside of my Grandpa’s café to grab some fresh air. All the emotions since his passing were stating to catch up to me. As I walked around the corner, I saw her. Shauna was my “first” and we remained good friends ever since, even though I now live thousands of miles away.
She ran up to me and we embraced. That’s all it took for my emotional wall to break down and the tears started flowing non-stop. “I’m so sorry baby” was all she kept saying over & over. Now, I don’t know if it was my emotional state or not, but for the first and last time, I cheated on my wife.
As she hugged me, my mouth was positioned right at her neck. I lightly started to kiss her neck & her arms tightened around me. After what seemed like an eternity, we broke our embrace. She looked at me, took my hand, and led me back into t
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November 28, 2006
Massage of Pleasure.
AS I gazed upon his naked body before me . I heard his words command me to massage him. “Long and deep” he said “I don’t want to be sore when your done. I want to be relaxed” he again commanded.
With shaking hands I reached for the oils, he had prepared. He lay prone upon the hard bed as I studied his youthful body. His ass was soft and yet firm, round and yet angular. His legs and arms muscular. I wanted to run my hands over him and feel his angles and muscles. I denied myself and sat upon his sweet ass, so I could reach his head, neck and shoulder and began my massage. I could feel the heat by the time i moved down to his lower back and ass. My lips were chattering as I touched him.
I was trying my best not to feel this way. Thinking of all the things I had to do.. all the places I could be,, but my hands were the leaders not my mind.
I felt my nipples tighten against my bra. I felt the warmth between my legs as my lips parted as i straddled him. I sat on his leg t
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November 27, 2006
Serena and I were driving north from the Kill Devil Hills and the Wright Brother’s Monument through Kitty Hawk on the way to Norfolk. The photo shoot at the monument had been successful and I must admit a bit surprising. Unfortunately, the impending rain stopped us from getting all the shots we needed. We were able to get some nice shots at sunrise, just before the sun slipped into the clouds.
Passing through Kitty Hawk and approaching the Wright Memorial Bridge the rain started, first just a few large drops randomly striking the windshield, then a bit heavier. We were able to get across the bridge before it got too heavy, but soon, we were creeping along in some steady downpours. Soon it got so bad I decided we better stop.
“Serena, I think I’m going to pull off the road as soon as I find a place to stop. We’re not in a hurry and there’s no need taking any chances in this rain,” I said loudly so she could hear me over the sound of the rain.
“The Cotton Gin is not too far ahead, they have plen
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November 26, 2006
“How’d you like to get hold of that?” Roger Goins asked as he stirred his fresh drink.
Roger was one of those guys who always talked about strange pussy, but never seemed to make an attempt to get any. He was too pussy-whipped by his wife, Elaine, to take a chance.
Me, I was on the look out all the time—but so was my wife, Shirley. It took about fifty years and four marriages for me to learn that a woman who liked to fuck all the time—the only kind I wanted to be married to—was going to fuck somebody else every now and then. So here I was at sixty, on my fifth marriage, with a forty-two year old sex-pot who liked to swing. But that was okay with me, because I always knew who she was fucking when she wasn’t fucking me. Plus, the guys she chose all had wives for me, most of them really nice looking and hot as hell. Those of us who swapped kept it secret from Roger and Elaine. Elaine would probably have been all for it, but Roger was too insecure for anything like that.
I looked
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November 25, 2006
About two weeks after my sensuous and successful aptitude test with ‘Manon’, the company which provided discreet escorts for ladies. I was
contacted by Ron Vincent, who told me to call at the office the following evening as he had my first client.
I had already spent some time with Ron, getting a few pointers on what would be expected of me.
He also had me fitted out with a couple of outfits, a smart dark blue suit and a more casual jacket and pants, with shirts to match.
He had also taken me to the small, neat apartment where we could entertain the ladies when necessary. And I was given a key.
“Dress for whatever circumstance,” Ron advised, his chubby cheeks glowing as usual. He was a real enthusiast about the service he provided.
“Mind you,” he warned. “It won’t always be sex. Some of our ladies just want companionship. And many are cautious about letting us know what their needs are. So you have to play it by ear sometimes.”
So that evening I arrived at Ron’s office and was
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November 24, 2006
It was a 1978 Nova, technically a classic according to Paj, and it was all hers, a summer waitressing job at Denny’s later, only she couldn’t bring it home. It sat in the school shop, dark green looking almost black in the garage. She liked to visit him. She called it “him,” in fact, his name was Stu. She knew it was weird to name a car but it had just come to her. Paj said it happened that way sometimes with cars, he’d been working with them all his life, and some just had names that they liked to be called. She often sat on Stu’s hood and commiserated with Paj about parents and grades and SATs and what a bummer they all were. Bummer. That was Paj’s word, but she liked it, she found it apropos, considering her situation. Apropos wasn’t Paj’s word, however, it was a vocabulary word in the SAT study book.
Ted was determined that she was going to U of M next fall, his alma mater. She didn’t care, the University of Michigan was as good as any school, as long as she could work on cars somewhere. Of
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November 23, 2006
A Box Lunch
I guess the premise of finding love over a box lunch is pretty far-fetched, especially if you consider our difference in ages. Certainly, the thought of a love between a sixty year old man and a nineteen year old woman, would be difficult to believe, but considering it all developed from a shared box lunch has to stagger the imagination. Of course, as all love must do, our affair ended tragically, but in spite of it all, we had our moments, Kieko and I had our moments.
It began over lunch, or more correctly, it began over my lunch. The distinction is important because I ate and she… she… well she performed. Not really performed, she basically sat motionless, but in doing so, she basically performed.
Let me explain if I can. I have lived alone for many years now, my wife left me for another man. There might have been a poetic justice in it all if she left me for a younger man, but he was older, much older than I, older and richer. Anyway, over the years, my friends had tried to fix me
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November 22, 2006
Serena and I were driving north from the Kill Devil Hills and the Wright Brother’s Monument through Kitty Hawk on the way to Norfolk. The photo shoot at the monument had been successful and I must admit a bit surprising. Unfortunately, the impending rain stopped us from getting all the shots we needed. We were able to get some nice shots at sunrise, just before the sun slipped into the clouds.
Passing through Kitty Hawk and approaching the Wright Memorial Bridge the rain started, first just a few large drops randomly striking the windshield, then a bit heavier. We were able to get across the bridge before it got too heavy, but soon, we were creeping along in some steady downpours. Soon it got so bad I decided we better stop.
“Serena, I think I’m going to pull off the road as soon as I find a place to stop. We’re not in a hurry and there’s no need taking any chances in this rain,” I said loudly so she could hear me over the sound of the rain.
“The Cotton Gin is not too far ahead, they have plen
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November 21, 2006
Christmas can be a lonely time of the year especially when you are 4,000 miles from home without your wife and children. I was 21 and in Germany…lonely, miserable, and knowing that this would be a Christmas I would want more than anything else to forget.
I was a soldier and was living in the barracks, but I had a job that took me out into the Germany of the German people. Hans worked for a German household goods shipping company and I was a military customs inspector so we saw each other almost every day, usually at the local Gasthaus drinking our lunch which normally consisted of Steinhaeger and good strong German lager beer. He was learning English from me and was teaching me the German language. Frequently I was a visitor in his house though I seldom, if ever, spent the night. The wife occasionally stared at my crotch, but I was really there to talk and joke with her husband, figuring she was probably off-limits to an American GI like me.
Ute was no femme fatale, but she was a nice, pleasant woman
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November 20, 2006
This is a continuing story of Julia’s Lovers (that is in the Mature section). To get the full story, one should read the original.
A Ladies Pleasant Debacle
“Hello Al, how is it hanging lover?”
“Julia, you can be such an embarrassment. What’s up sweetheart?”
“I know you are right now, however I am calling for some assistance with a small problem! Let me know when you can make it over here.”
“Are you now labeling me Mr. Small because of my tool? Regardless, when you call you know I will come. How does 5 o’clock tonight sound, I am ready willing and able!”
“Knock it off wild man, I will introduce you to the small problem, that may take your brain instead of your putz lover! So we shall see you then.”
“You now you have my curiosity, are you talking about Sara? If you are, I will have to bring an oxygen tank, just in case.”
“Easy Al, Sara may be in and out, but she is not the focus of this get together. To be honest 4 o’clock sounds better because some constructive time wi
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November 19, 2006
It started out innocently enough. But then, doesn’t it always? It was Monday afternoon and I was in the back yard pulling weeds.
“Hey, Mrs. Carter.”
I turned in the direction of the voice and saw Bobby Campfield walking along the path that separated my yard from West Valley Park.
“Hi, Bobby,” I shot back. “How are you doing?”
Bobby came to a stop by my back gate and smiled. “I’m doing ok, I guess.”
“What do you mean, ‘I guess?’ Is something wrong?”
“Not really,” he responded, shrugging his shoulders.
Now I’m not usually one to stick my nose into other people’s business. In fact it’s usually just the opposite. But I’ve been friends with Bobby’s mother for more than half of my forty years, and I’ve known Bobby since the day he was born. It was obvious that something had him a little down. So I reached for the gate and pulled it open. “How about I get you a nice cold Coke and we can talk about it?”
He looked at me for a moment before smiling and chuckling. “You’
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November 18, 2006
Matt Simmons stood by Mrs. Hammond, holding her hand as her husband’s coffin was lowered into its rain filled resting-place. Matt held her sobbing body close as the rain poured down on the crying mourners. He had been killed in a horrible car accident only 3 days ago. Matt could feel Mrs. Hammond’s body shaking as he held her delicate, mature hand. Matt and Mrs. Hammond had always been very good friends and the last 3 days had brought them even closer.
Mr. Hammond had been a very respected college professor at the local college. His students loved him more than any other professors. He and Mrs. Hammond had been married for 30 years. She had depended on him for everything. He did the checkbook, paid the bills and any other things that needed tended to.
“What am I going to do, Matthew?” Mrs. Hammond sobbed on Matt’s strong shoulder. “He did everything for me.” She sobbed wrapping her arms around his back. She didn’t care what any of the other mourner’s thought she needed to hug a man.
Matt wi
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November 17, 2006
The room is filled with quiet warmth, dim light casting shadows on the walls. The music is soft, Frank Sinatra unless I’m mistaken. But I barely pay attention to the tune as we dance. Hand in hand we slowly circle. I fight to keep my hand from shaking as it rests lightly against your hip, held away from your skin only by the thin fabric of your pants. The skin of your hand is so soft against mine and I long to pull you to me, hold you close.
I’m conscious of the awkwardness of the moment. But dinner had been delicious, our conversation wonderful and inspiring. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that you saw me only as a child, that our age difference was something that concerned you. But I see you only as a beautiful woman, sexy and intelligent, and I can’t help but want you. And you took pity on me and agreed to dance.
I can’t take my eyes off of you as we slowly take a turn around our improvised dance floor. You catch my eyes and blush, as though you can see what I’m thinking. On a whim I sp
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November 16, 2006
Rolling down University Way, Don Adams had to smile. The buzz of a weekend just beginning was evident as the brothers of Pi Alpha Sigma tossed a football in front of their massive Georgian house. Girls approached, and friendly catch became a circus of bravado, shouting, shoving, hey ladies - big party at ol’ Pi Alpha tonight.
Don wove down side roads, at last reaching the parking lot. The weekend exodus had begun, affording him a spot at the end of the first row. Climbing out of his seat, he welcomed the chance to stretch. His daughter had gotten far enough away to make these visits possible, but understandably infrequent. In fact, since the accident…well, it had been a while.
Kenealy Hall - plain brick cube, same as the others. Good thing for the sign. When Don graduated, most of these places were holes surrounded by chain link fence. Back then they didn’t need all this security, he thought, confronted by a card reader at the door. He pondered options - what was Heather’s number again? - when a re
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November 15, 2006
Becky and I work for the same company, but in different departments. Both of us had worked our way up the ladder from seasonal employees to full time management. Becky stood about 5′-3″ and was a raven haired BBW. She had a nice big ass, and her tits were big, but not huge. Becky wore her hair shoulder length and sometimes would get it cut in one of those “Dorothy Hamil” style haircuts that I liked. Her skin was olive tone, and she would really get dark in the summer. Even though she was ten years my senior, I thought she looked sexy in the summer with her dark skin and raven hair. I jerked off more than once in the shower to my fantasy of pleasuring her body.
One Thursday night, a group of us from work decided to celebrate several birthdays occurring that month at our favorite hangout. Since it was summer, Becky was dressed in a sleeveless summer blouse and a khaki skirt. Becky was one of the birthday people and she was drinking mixed drinks instead of her usual beer. A couple of hours and several dri
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November 14, 2006
Many years ago when I was in my late teens and at college, I had the dubious pleasure in trying to locate some cheap digs for myself. As this was well before the days of the cell phones that every student now seems to carry, finding the right type of accommodation involved an extremely technical process of wandering around on foot and ringing doorbells! I had been traipsing around for days in the blistering heat of the mid-summer sunshine and getting nowhere. All the decent rooms had already been taken, and the ones that were left were either way too expensive, or so horrible that I would not have been able to sleep for nightmares.
Sitting in the student bar early one evening after another unsuccessful day’s searching, I was joined by my friend, Frank. We exchanged the usual grunted greeting in that monosyllable language that only other teenagers seem to be able to understand. Frank asked why I looked so miserable, and I explained about my accommodation problem.
“Have you tried Beech Street yet?” He
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November 13, 2006
She gazed at me through an undulating haze of acrid cigarette smoke, considering my proposal. The bartender walked by, eyeing our drinks. I waited until he was a couple strides out of earshot. “Had any better offers lately?” I tried to sound casual but it came out forced. Her eyes stayed locked onto mine as she crossed her legs in a way that only women can do. The hem of her skirt rode up her thigh; she made no effort to pull it down. Bringing the remains of the cigarette to her lips, she took one long drag, filling her lungs and holding onto that breath like it might be worth something. The crow’s feet around her eyes crinkled, forming little valleys. She pursed her lips and blew a bluish cloud of smoke directly into my face. “Lets go,” Her manicured nails flashed a deep red in the dim light as she mashed the cigarette into the overflowing ashtray.
The band finished their last set as I pushed open the door, holding it, allowing her to walk through. The corners of her mouth raised ever so slightly as
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November 12, 2006
Stephanie breathed a deep sigh as she once again sat in traffic on the interstate. Yet another commute in a life full of them. It seemed that this was all her life had been since her divorce five years ago. Commute, work, commute, sleep, commute, work and so on and so on. At age forty-six she needed a change, but the rut she was stuck in was so deep it seemed that climbing out would be impossible. Today was just like any other day except it was Wednesday, not Tuesday or Friday or even Monday. It was just another day in a string of days that seemed to never change.
Stephanie’s two kids were away at college. She and her ex-husband decided that two kids were enough and she agreed to have her tubes tied after she had her youngest. She was young when her kids were born. She missed them dearly.
“Aw, screw this,” she muttered and began to carefully cross traffic from the lane she was in to get to the next exit ramp. Maybe she could find a short cut around this cursed traffic.
She took a right at the bot
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November 11, 2006
© Prahaar 2006. All rights reserved.
Author’s note:
Please read ‘2927 Vadodara Express – Chapter 1′
Some of the sexually significant dialogue is in Gujarati or Hindi to preserve the original flavor. Every word has been translated into English.
Thank you for all the feedback, comments, requests, story ideas, encouragement and exhortations to write more. They have motivated me to continue writing. Keep ‘em coming.
I really do appreciate the time you take to give me your opinions. I love hearing from my readers, particularly women! The more mischievous the greater fun! Who knows where that might take us!
At the end of Chapter 1:
I had no idea that women did this. And the sight of a fully grown woman pleasuring herself four feet away from me, excited me beyond any previously known limits. I had been at the boiling point for the last several minutes and the dam was ready to burst. I tugged and rubbed my rampant cock as best I could over my trousers. I soon came in my underpants. For
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