Every six months, Dorothy had a vacation away from her husband and family. It was an understanding that she and her spouse had worked out years before. They had met and married a few years after the war, the Great War. They had a companionable marriage and loved one another, but both found their passions in others.
Maggie woke up from the dream with sodden panties, and a fierce need to masturbate. She’d never had a dream that intense before.
Faith woke slowly, a delicious throbbing in her pussy pulling her intro wakefulness. Her Captain’s fingers were gently teasing her, sliding between her her wet folds.
The William had come to port, and Faith crept from the house, taking care not to wake anyone. She hurried on silent, bare feet through the dark town streets. Her cloak shielded her face, but she’d be ruined if anyone saw her out this late.
Part One: Title Part Two: Title – Or just jump in here the story stands alone.
Paul began clearing away the dinner plates. Crystal hadn’t planned on spending Christmas Eve with Paul, but once again she couldn’t pass up being with him. He said he planned an entire evening together as a Christmas gift for her.
A holiday party at a sex club sounded exactly like the kind of hijinks Liz wanted. She slipped into the gorgeous red lingerie set that had been a gift from one of her beaus. She topped it off with a leopard trimmed Santa hat, and headed out the door.
Read the entire story here: [Part 1 Working Late] [Part 2 All Wrapped up in Work] [Part 3: What Vicki Did at the Ritual] [Part 4: Victoria Finds Her Man… Two of Them]
Vicki lay back on the pile of cushions shrugging out of the robe so it lay underneath her like a sheet.
Bishara laid beside her, his kohl darkened eyes and shaved head reminded her of Djet, but there was something jarring about seeing the makeup and the ancient affectation on a modern man.
“Are you ready?” He asked.
She nodded, not entirely sure what she needed to be ready for. At this point, she was certain she wanted this magician and not only for his magic.
Names, titles, what we call each other. I find that these concepts are simultaneously unique and utterly culturally bound. I recently told KinkyandPerky (whose blog you should be reading) that I’m often intentionally vague about dirty talk in my stories because dirty talk is so unique to everyone. I’ve read otherwise hot stories, but the dirty talk (of a type that isn’t mine) just threw me out of the story. I believe that names work the same way.