Joy Trail Raven Raley

Last week, I stumbled on something that made me completely
change the way I thought about my girlfriend. I decided to
drop by Nancy’s house last Thursday night at about 10 P.M. She
wasn’t expecting me, but I would often stop by her house after
work. I get off at around nine thirty, and Nancy only lives
about 20 minutes from the store where I work.
When I got to Nancy’s house, I noticed her friend Judy’s
car parked outside. This didn’t seem out of the ordinary at
all, since Judy and Nancy have been the best of friends since
they graduated high school a few years ago. As I approached
the house, I heard loud music coming from one of the bedrooms
in the back. I could tell her parents weren’t home, because
their car wasn’t parked in the driveway, so I went around to
the back. When I got to Nancy’s window, I peered in through a
small space between the carelessly closed curtains. When I
looked in, I couldn’t believe my eyes! (more…)

She turned in her bed and burrowed among the pillows … the sun was
peeping in through the window and that was her alarum clock this season.
But a few moments wouldn’t matter. Squirmed and cuddled against a satiny
pillow.

It had been a nice party yesterday. They had talked about Sartre and CAD
programs and sex and war and got a little high. It was a wonderful thing
to have good friends. Not really friends actually, but colleagues and
acquaintances. And then that icecream was a great way to finish off. No
calories. None. Not one! Atleast that is what the label said, though
Andrew pickering claimed that it was just dishonest advertising. (more…)

It was Friday afternoon and I was glad I didn’t have a date. I’d
been asked but nothing seemed right about any of them. I just
wanted to be alone.

Seattle was rainy when I boarded the United flight to Los
Angeles.

First class always appeals to me. Not just in flights but
everything else too. I guess I just feel more important when I
spend more money on me. Clothes, car, my hair, having my nails
done, a facial, presents for friends, restaurants and flying in
first class. Why was I thinking of all these things? My mind was
wandering. (more…)

Teen Pov Pics

Teen Pov Pics Free Gallery
Teen Pov Pics Free Gallery 2
A beautiful slim babe strips down in front of the camera

It had been months since I had seen him. Three months to be exact,
three months of loneliness and frustration of the emotional and
sexual kind. The intensely sexual kind. Three months of becoming
literally a mistress of the art of masturbation and self-pleasuring.
Three months of experience which I couldn’t wait to share with Brian.

These were the thoughts that filtered through the sleepiness of my
jet-lagged brain as I stared out the tiny fiberglass window of the
plane. Not that there was anything to see but the fluffy whiteness
of clouds, so there was no view to distract me from my contemplation.
And considering the reunion soon to be at hand, I could think of
little else but finally ending three months worth of gruelling
celibacy. (more…)

“Oh babe, what a magnificent cock you have. That was better
than I ever imagined it could be.”

“What do you mean, better than you imagined it could be?”

“I thought that was clear enough”

“You mean you never…”

“Never what, you mean…fucked in the ASS…or fucked in the
ass by YOU?”

“Well I guess you have ass fucked before, so you must mean
me, right?”

“That’s very presumptuous of yourself, to think that hard
cock still twitching in my ass is that good.”

“Then this WAS your first?”

“Yeah, and boy did it…you, live up to expectations.”

“Well to tell the truth it was my first time too.”

“No, don’t bull shit me. The way you slipped it in, so
smooth and gentle. I was ready for the fucking of my rosy little
anus. Fred told me you were well hung.”

“Fred? And what else has he told you about me?”

“Oh, let’s just say, more than enough, if this performance
was any indication.”

“God, your ass is tight and so…so sleek…I think I could
get hard again just looking at it. Not to mention the fact your
tight little hole still has a death grip on it.” (more…)

We rolled off the couch onto the floor, pushing the makeshift coffee table
out of the way and laughing as the beer cans rolled across the room,
rocking our bodies together in unison, her breasts in my hands and her
hands searching my back, my arms, my chest. A rumble of thunder sounded in
the distance as the wind picked up, signs of an upcoming storm. I writhed
with her, feeling the warmth of her clit as she rocked against my fingers,
the tiredness of her face overcome with pleasure, a smile appearing on sad
lips. Ellen grabbed me and pulled me close, insistent upon immediate
satisfaction, begging me with her eyes and pushing her hips against mine.

Ellen came over to my table, setting down her coffee, cigarettes, and a
couple of left-over pastries. For some reason I had expected her face to
be different, soft in contrast to her harsh persona, but it also looked
rebellious. She offered me one of the pastries and we chatted together as
we ate; for some strange reason she attracted me greatly, she was gutsy and
brash but at the same time coquettishly feminine. Grandi had finished up
in the back and from habit I knew it was time to take off. The crisp air
was a sharp contrast to that of the cafe as Ellen and I walked out to the
now deserted sidewalk.

When I found out that she lived in the old district about a mile East I
offered to give her a ride home, realizing that she probably wouldn’t take
me up on it as I gestured towards my motorcycle, but she accepted anyway.
I rocked the bike off its footpeg and started it up, listening to the motor
complain after sitting for ten hours in the sun. Ellen got on and grabbed
me around the waist with her left hand, holding her cigarette out of the
wind the right and pressing up against my back as we raced away. The city
streets were devoid of anything at this hour, only cardboard boxes and
empty cups blowing around in strange little whirlpools of wind and empty
buses wandering through their routes.

After a brief exchange of dialog with “Grandi,” as I called him, I sat down
at the corner table of the now empty cafe, facing the window so I could
watch the street as the new waitress put away the last dishes and wiped off
the tables. She looked like someone who was in a losing battle with life
after too many bad experiences, but willing to continue the fight. Grandi
locked the door and shut down most of the lights, pointing to the new
waitress and saying, “Hey, meet Ellen, she’s a-starting tonight; she’s a
new in town” as he disappeared into the kitchen to help his wife finish up
the cleaning. The expresso machine complained loudly as it dripped out the
last cup of the night.

She would exit to the sidewalk every few minutes and check her customers,
filling a cup of coffee or taking away a plate, only to stand in the
doorway for a moment and look off down the street before disappearing back
into the cafe. Her medium-length wavy bleached-blond hair moved strangely,
witness to damage from repeated styling. Even her clothes looked rough,
her knee-length jeans fighting her as she walked, her white t-shirt half
untucked and hanging crooked, but all the elements brought her a certain
exotic aire, made her look strong-willed and confident.

The cooler night air began to appear, rustling through the trees as it
wandered down the street and through the cafe. After the Spaniards went
onward, we brought in the sidewalk furniture and turned off the exterior
lights, closing shop for another day. I was still wide awake and the now
refreshing air begged me to stay outdoors for a while more, to go over to
the Italia and chat with the owner, sit at one of those black marble tables
and drink a strong cappuchino. The waitress was clearing her last sidewalk
table as I went inside, carefully balancing plates and glasses on a big
gray Rubbermaid tray as she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.