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voyeur Tips

Welcome to our "smut" library. Here you will find various information articles and exciting stories dedicated to voyeurism. We welcome erotic fiction from our visitors. Notice that we add points to authors for every story we publish.

Yes, She Can Watch (22 March 2011)

The door bell rang and Jami stopped kissing me. She looked at me with a huge smile on her face. She stood up and stretched, her tits bouncing excitedly.

"She's here!" she breathed.

I laughed as she flew to the door. I couldn't help but to stare at her ass as she ran across the living room of her apartment to open the front door. She was wearing a translucent gold nightie that left little to the imagination. Her hourglass figure and full hips were on display. I was only wearing a t-shirt and boxer briefs myself, no wasting time losing my clothes for me. When the going got hot, I wanted to get off! Anyway, she peered through the peep hole and called out "D.J. is that you?"

"Who else would it be? Let me in!" came the reply through the door.

We were both excited about our friend D.J. coming over today. This was going to be an exciting afternoon. When Jami told me about her encounter with D.J. the week before, we had amazing sex. D.J. had agreed to help us fulfill one of our many fantasies; that is, having sex while being watched. The door swung open and D.J. sauntered in. She walked in with a swagger but her face betrayed her when she saw me sitting on the couch. She looked like she was going to faint. I think she was nervous that I was there before her. She took off her jacket and I saw that she had only worn a t-shirt herself. I could see her juicy nipples (at least I thought they were juicy) poking against the fabric. Jami closed the door, came up behind her friend and threw her arms around her in a bear hug from behind. Jami's hands immediately went to D.J.'s boobs and squeezed them.

"Ready for a show, hmmmm?"she whispered softly into D.J.'s ear.

Yoga Class (20 March 2011)

"Oh my god, there she is again. God she's so hot." Said Natalie as we stretched before yoga class. The rest of the students, mostly women, were filing into the studio where we practiced yoga. It was a small class, maybe twelve students. The object of Natalie's adoration was our beautiful instructor, Annette Boniganzi. Our teacher Annette was kneeling with her torso falling across her knees, studying the attendance sheet. She always wore such revealing tops. Annette was maybe 40 something, but a lifetime of yoga had kept her young. She was tan, with an Italian bombshell's face, full lips, a knowing half smile always at the ready. She pulled her dark curls back in a pony-tail for classes, and wore black stretch-pants and a low-necked spandex top where her massive, firm and full breasts would always threaten to tumble out. She had to be at least a double D. I sneaked a longing glance down her vast cleavage—the way she was bent over really let me see all the way down her shirt. I realized I was becoming aroused and realized I should cut it out, I didn't want to do yoga in this small class with all these mirrors with an erection! I glanced a little too fast.

"Where you just checking out her boobs?" Natalie whispered to me. I felt my cheeks redden.

" . . . Maybe. God damn it—busted."

"Ha! You are such a perv!" She whispered back a little too loudly. Natalie was one of my best friends, we had known each other a long time. We were pretty comfortable with each other as we had always been neighbors. She normally had boyfriends, but they never lasted too long. She had one right now: Matt. He was a nice enough guy. He was one lucky guy, that was for sure.

Yellow Taxi (18 March 2011)

“Taxi” a women yells from the curb, stepping out as it halts before her. The driver turns to inquire as to her destination, as she opens the door leaning in, he can’t help taking a long slow gander , drawn by her attractive face. Her cleavage draws his attention. His eyes wander down her smooth tight dress, the silhouette says full figured. A quick glance reveals nice tanned muscular thighs. “Take me to Belmore” she quips, sliding into the back seat. “That’s sixty miles away .” I am well aware of where that fucking bastard lives.” He realizes she is past drunk, her hands trying to wave away the conversation. She is obviously pissed at someone.

He decides the safest bet is to just drive. He turns up the music; Tina Turner pours her sultry voice into the cab. He figures this might soothe the savage beast. He watches her in his mirror, rocking sensually in the back seat. He can just imagine what she would look like out of that dress. He can see nipples stiffening beneath the fabric.

“What the fuck are you looking at cabby?” He decides not to reply. “ It’s ok, I won’t bite. You like seeing my nice hard nipples?” He hears her moving in the back seat. Looking in the mirror, he sees her as she sits up. Upright and naked. “There, look all you want cabby”, she lays back stroking her breasts. She is smiling, one hand under each swollen tit. He stares at her erect brown nipples. She pushes them together “look at my nice big horny jugs cabby. I bet you’d just love to suck on these babies. I might just let you too.” she says with a giggle.

“I would like to stop at the park up here on the left” she orders sternly. He signals, and turns where she has asked. “stop over there under that streetlight.” Before the car has even reached a full stop, she is stepping out of the car, her shoes slide on the pavement. She walks to the front of the car. He can see little in the dark, but can see the outline of her large breasts against the backdrop of streetlight. As she backs away, and directly under the bright streetlamp, he sees she is completely naked.

Yearly Checkup (16 March 2011)

It was that time of year already. It was time for my yearly checkup. Most women dreaded it. I did not. I don't know why, but I never really felt uncomfortable there. One reason may be that my doctor is super nice. Oh ya, and super cute. Pretty good combination.

My husband was always giving me a hard time because he had met him when he delivered our child and joked with me about him being cute. I could not deny, because he was, but girls don't think of their gynecologist that way. Most girls that is...

I have had this fantasy for years now about going there and being used on that little table with my feet up. Maybe I have read too many stories, but this thought has always been in the back of my mind. This year my checkup happened to be right on ovulation day (I'm like clockwork) which also happens to be my most horny time.

I new that when I made the appointment, but didn't think it would really be an issue. However, when I woke up that day I was ultra sensitive and ultra-wet. My husband was out of town that week and so I hadn't had sex in six days. When I got in the shower before work, I decided I better masturbate or I would not be able to concentrate all day at work. So I did. Nothing fancy, I just used the head of my shower over my clit for about 1 minute and orgasmed strongly, but quickly. Then set off for work.

My appointment was at the end of the day so I would just leave a bit early and it wasn't far from the office. The day seemed to drag on. I kept having thoughts. The thoughts I have had for years. I could feel myself getting wet in my cubicle and when I used the bathroom it was apparent how wet I really was. Good thing I wore a skirt. Finally, I was ready to go. I hopped into the car and set off.

Yacht Club Show-Offs (14 March 2011)

I'm a twenty-one year old Midwestern girl and I love to party, but I'm still in college so my funds are limited. My friend, Holly, told me about a place by the Mississippi River that gets pretty wild. She said that the guys who hang out there would take care of our food and drinks all evening. I told her that I'd been to the river before, but the river rats weren't the classiest bunch of people I'd ever met.

Holly assured me that this was a different class of people. A woman Holly works with invited us to a private club on the river and told Holly that there would be plenty of rich guys at the club. She said the guys would buy our dinner and pick up our bar tabs, too. When Holly told me that the woman was in her thirties, I envisioned a room full of stuffy men in their fifties trying to act young, but I agreed to go anyway.

When Holly showed up at my apartment, she was wearing a short red dress with a string tied around her neck to keep her top up. She also had a matching red ribbon that held her long brunette hair up in a pony tail. Holly's dress was backless, so she couldn't wear a bra, and the dress had a zipper that went from the middle of her back down to the middle of her butt.

I said, "Wow girl, you look half-naked!"

Holly giggled and said, "Actually, I'm almost all naked! See?"

Holly lifted the front of her dress and I was shocked to discover that she wasn't wearing panties. I was even more astonished to see that she had shaved her pussy bald. We never go clubbing without panties and I'd never seen Holly with a shaved beaver before, but Holly seemed really intent on impressing the rich guys tonight.

Y Me? (12 March 2011)

When you agreed to help out a friend of mine with his debut at the art gallery in the club that you'd been thinking about joining, you had no idea that this was how you would be helping. You had thought you'd be serving as a hostess, plying the disgustingly rich men and women that attend these things with champagne and odd little appetizer treats, getting a sure invitation into the exclusive club. You had no idea that you would be the main attraction but there you were. You'd promised me that you'd help. You told me that you'd do anything to get into the club. Now you have no choice, no way out.

From your spot in the center of the gallery, you can see the paintings, photos and the sculptures around you. Each mesmerizing work is more erotic than the one before it. The paintings vividly depict voluptuous women in various stages of sexual bondage, each carefully being "tortured" by a nondescript person in a mask. In each painting the person is wearing all black clothing and a mask that just covers their eyes and nose. You can see from their hair in the paintings that most of them are men but you do notice a few longer haired ones that appear to have enough curves to suggest that some of them are women.

The sculptures are also very sexual. There are various penis shaped ones, ones that depict couples in various positions and a few that again seem to depict a woman in a bound and tortured state. The photos are no less sensual. Each 24x36 full color print clearly shows a close-up of the more intriguing parts of a woman's body in various stages of distress. One shows her long, thick, dark nipples smartly pinched by clamps that appear almost too large. Another photo shows a heavy weight hanging from a gold nipple ring clearly pulling at the breast. The others are, well, they would be almost disturbing if they weren't so exciting.

Xiao`s Photo Project (10 March 2011)

While I was in college my freshmen year I stayed in the dorms. While my dorm was a mixed dorm, nearby was an all girls dorm, and through people I actually became friends with a few girls over there. One suite in particular had 6 girls, mostly Asian, who I sometimes would hang out or eat at the dinning hall with. Of all the girls, two roommates were the one's I talked to most, one named Xiao, a very slim Asian girl who was super cute and bubbly, plus kinda a free spirit and almost a hippie in some ways. She liked some indie music I liked so that was cool. Her roommate was Jess, another Asian girl, I think Chinese, who was very different then Xiao, since she was a devout Christian and seemed conservative.

Anyways, Xiao was a science major, I think biology or chemistry, but also was an avid photographer and took photography class at the school. She would often take pictures of her roommates or people she knew, me included, for her class and I even once remember going to a showcase where her photos, along with the rest of the class, were on display. One time she messaged me on the internet asking if I wanted to pose again for a project she was doing. I agreed, but she told me that it would be best to talk about the project in person since it was different than the usual project. I wondered what was up, but I went over later that night and we chatted. She told me that her class was doing a photo project on the human body, where they were to take various photos of a human body part, like the nose or hands or something. I didn't think much into it and figured she wanted to take a picture of my feet or back or hands or whatever. She then told me that she wanted to actually take a picture of, well, my penis. They were allowed to do nudes in the class, and she wondered if I was willing. I was pretty surprised, and asked if she had asked anyone else before me, which she did, but they had turned her down. Without thinking much, I agreed and she said she would get back to me on a time when her roommates weren't around and we could take pictures then.

WSEX World Nudes (08 March 2011)

Jeanine stared at the screen in wide-eyed disbelief, watching the nude footage of herself having sex with Mayor Smith in the middle of a public park. And what made it even worse was that his wife had gone missing and both the police and public opinion held him as the prime suspect in her disappearance. The pretty blonde reporter covered her face with her hands, as if trying to block out the moans of pleasure she made on the tape as the mayor penetrated into her again and again.

She knew that she was going to be fired today. In fact, she knew it from the moment she got the phone call to come into her boss' office. Someone had to have filmed the incident; after all, she was having sex in public with the front page story of the month. It was too delicious not to make headlines.

Mike, her boss at the station, paused the tape and took a deep breath. He hesitated, as if unsure of what to say next.

"I think you know why I called you in here," he said sternly, "Don't you Mrs. Anderson?"

Jeanine Anderson, former general assignment reporter meekly nodded, not sure if there was anything she could say to salvage her job... or her reputation, for that matter. The way that things were unfolding for her today, it seemed as if she would never be able to work in this state again!

Taking a deep breath, Jeanine tried to think back to how this whole situation began weeks ago.

Wrong Game to Bet On (06 March 2011)

You see a lot of crazy things when you deliver pizza to work your way through college. I also thought that all those stories that you hear of the pizza guys getting laid for a tip weren't true, this story shows how wrong I was or does it? I still think I came out pretty well minus my work uniform, of course.

I had a delivery to a new address at about 10:38 on a Monday evening, so I figured that it was for the football game that was on TV. I took the pie and walked up to the house and a very sexy black woman opened the door and invited me inside. I went in as I normally do and put the pizza on the table as she requested.

"That'll be $10.85," I told her.

"Well, you're direct and to the point aren't you?" she responded.

"Yeah, we're getting slammed at work and I need to get back," I said not adding that I was a little anxious about being a white man in a black woman's apartment at that time of night without her husband or boyfriend there to see that nothing happened. Last time that happened I couldn't move for three days!

"I was hoping that you might be a little company for me, Kyle," she said looking at my name tag.

"Well, Miss Johnson, I do have a job to do," I told her.

"Look, Kyle, just call me Vanessa, and listen to what I have in mind and I promise you that you'll stay," Vanessa offered.

"Well, okay, if you insist," I responded.

"I have to admit that I have always wanted a white man to have sex with me and you seem to fit the bill of what I want so I'm giving you the option of a game," she smiled at me.

"What kind of game?" I asked now smiling myself.

Written Mile High Club (04 March 2011)

As I waited for my flight in the airport I couldn't help but wonder about the lives of everyone else in the waiting area. There were not many people at my gate for this red-eye flight, and most seemed more interested in napping than anything else. Already strung out from too much coffee and jet-lagged from several layovers, there was no hope of sleep for me, so I brought out my laptop to kill time online.

Following a random link I got via email, it wasn't long before I was absorbed in reading erotic fiction. This was new to me, but right now porn for the brain was more politically correct than pictures and videos. It seemed like no time at all had passed and my flight was ready to board.

Knowing I would have no internet access on the flight, I quickly saved several stories to keep me busy for a while.

The red-eye flight was only about half full, and the next closest person was a row behind me, one seat to the side. I was bored, so I tried to check her out as quietly as possible She was a bit older than me, and while not super-model beautiful, was still quite nice to look at. While she put her carry-on bag in the overhead storage, I decided that her average clothes were hiding an above-average body. I could hear her sleeping before we took off, but it sounded like she was not sleeping well.

It turns out I hadn't downloaded nearly enough stories to keep me reading the whole flight. Three hours in, and one to go, I still wanted more. My mind racing with other people's sexcapades, it finally dawned on me that if I wanted more, I needed to make it happen myself. Opening my OpenOffice word processor, the blank page stared at me, my mind suddenly just as blank.

Writing Lessons (02 March 2011)

Jennifer left her desk at lunchtime. She did not plan to eat today; rather she wanted to write another story for her lover. She wanted to wander the hallways of her school to let her mind jump with ideas. She had done so many things to him when they were in school together she thought the hallways would kindle memories that would help. Idly she slipped into the backstage area, sitting behind the closed curtains, mind going back to when she was in school.

The plays flooded back to her, a smile slyly starting. She was about to go when she head whispers, a girls giggling. Silently she stood and peered around the corner. She could see two students entwined in a passionate kiss, tongues probing. They clutched at each other as only someone feeling arousal for the first time can. Naturally she started to raise her voice and let them know she was here. She did not plan to punish them, just send them back to class.

Jennifer opened her mouth then stopped, her eyes drawn to the girl's hand as it slipped down his lean body. With no prompting from the boy she latched her small hand on his cock, outlined clearly in his jeans. Fascinated Jennifer saw his head snap down, hands reach for her breasts. She watched as they ground their hips harder and harder, dry humping, his hands now on her ass. Without thought her fingers were at her own crotch, pressing thru her clothes that hard pebble, the moistness apparent even now. His hands slipped under her skirt. In the darkness their profile was clear, his hands now kneading her cheeks, then his hand slipping to the front.

Jennifer could make out the bulge in the girls panties as his fist pleasured her, his fingers slipping in and out. The girls head was laid on his chest, eyes closed as she purred her desire, hips pistoning, faster and faster. He pulled his hand out suddenly, her eyes darting open in surprise. He then slipped to his knees, hands raking the panties to her ankles. He plunged his head between her stretched legs, her hands holding his hair as she rode his lips to orgasm, her legs straddling his shoulders, hi Jennifer now had her own hand in her cunt, her left hand holding her skirt up, her right now fucking herself, the wet sounds of her fingers sawing in and out causing her to tremble.

Wrap Your Mind Around That (28 February 2011)

I live the New York life people outside of New York never think of. The Outer Borough Life. People elsewhere think of New York as a bunch of huge, imposing buildings where people live in skyscrapers and no one knows each other. Outside of Manhattan, that's rarely the case.

My apartment is on the ground floor of a brownstone in Brooklyn. The neighborhood is just outside of trendy: full of immigrants and artists that can't afford the rent of a more brand name neighborhood. I know my neighbors well- the drummer that lives upstairs, the couple in the next building with an herb garden in their adjoining yard and two cats, and my next door neighbor Joy.

I didn't always know them well and at times that could cause problems. The guy upstairs had to find out that his kick drum was right over my bed before we made peace. The couple next door's cats had to get used to my tomcat prowling their yard which led to some tense moments and me shelling out for a few vet bills before we became pals. My issues with Joy were slightly different.

Joy has a massive tattoo of twin dragons on her back that extends all the way down until it just barely reaches into the crack of her ass. Her breasts, while amazing, are possibly fake, have nipples almost permanently erect and a very livid shade of maroon, one of which is pierced. Her grooming habits include waxing although I'm not sure how thoroughly. I know all this due to Joy's wardrobe. She favors pants, shorts and skirts that rise low enough to display her tattoo to its completion. On her upper body she's usually wearing a bikini top or a tee shirt so threadbare as to not really exist, and on many occasions has come out of her apartment to tend to some minor outdoor chore or sunbathe in a small and sheer enough bikini leave few questions as to her hygiene.

Ecole Militaire (26 February 2011)

She was on her way home from work going to night school just around the corner from her destination stop, École Militaire. And after months of riding the same line, seeing almost the same people, she had decided today would be the day.

Her heart raced as the doors opened and she stepped onto the train and sat in her usual seat at the back. She could see the whole train from here and they could all see her. She took a deep breath smelling the muggy uncirculated air, then she stealthily slid her hand over her soft skin already damp with sweat and down her pants. She looked around at all the people. Reading, listening to their iPods, and slowly started rubbing her moist, hard clit. She untucked her shirt and let it fall down to cover her crotch, though she didn't think she would need it. Few people ever looked up from what they were doing to care about what she was doing.

As the train pulled into the next station, more people got on, one sitting right beside her reading a newspaper. He was hot. Nice older man in his forties probably but damn good looking. He was in a suit and tie bent over reading his newspaper not noticing her. As she smelled his cologne and rushed against him, she caressed herself even harder. She imagined being caught by him but it just made her hornier. After a few minutes of watching all the people her nipples were completely erect, and visible through her white louse, and her pussy juice had drenched her white cotton panties.

Valentine`s Dilemma Buying Online (24 February 2011)

Dear Susan,

I'm so looking forward to the day we first, finally meet, whenever that will be. With Valentine's Day quickly approaching, I was in a quandary what to buy you, my cyber lover, the woman of my dreams, that I met online and have been exchanging e-mails with for months. Then, when I was researching information for one of my stories online, I saw it. Supposed to be a surprise, having not yet bought you anything for Valentine's Day, this was the absolute perfect gift.

Even though it's not a color that I'd ordinarily buy, somehow, I could see you wearing it. It looked like something you'd wear, I think. It was so you, I hoped. I had to have it.

Even though it cost more than my Polartec 300 loge red 2XL hooded jacket that I absolutely love, never take off, and wear around the house, as soon as I wake up, (it's so soft, it's so warm, it's so me). I have 3 of them in different colors. I had to buy this for you. Now that you know that I bought you something for Valentine's Day, I won't tell you what it is. It's a surprise.

Then, when I saw that the company that sold it was in Michigan, the state where you used to live, I knew it was fate. kismet, and destiny. Do you feel the drama? But for my car, made in Dearborn, I never bought anything from Michigan and here, after meeting a woman from Detroit, what are the odds? I ask you, out of 50 frigging states, all the countries in the world, when everything is made in and imported from China, what are the odds that I my dream woman would be from Detroit Michigan?

Then, just before I clicked the button to put it in my cart, I saw that there was only one left. Suddenly with a foreboding feeling, I was in a panic. I couldn't believe what I was reading. Normally, I'd think that with only one left, that was a good thing, something that was rare for my rare beauty. Only, this time, I was shocked. One? I panicked. When I saw that there was just one left, one, just one, only one, I was reticent to order it.

Why was there only one? Was there only one left because this was a leftover from the Christmas inventory? Maybe there was something wrong with it. Maybe it was an irregular. I want nothing less than perfect for my beautiful cyber baby.

My Valentines Day Stroll (22 February 2011)

Five years ago I was dating a short man of Irish descent who, despite his small stature, was a very commanding man who loved to control women and at that time in my life, I wanted to be controlled, so we made a very good pairing. He was my Dominant but I will refer to him as my Owner since that is what he did. He owned me at that time.

He was not an attractive man but because of his ability to put me in my place, he managed to keep me aroused and sexually ready for just about anything on a constant basis.

No one could understand why I was with him and quite frankly I was not ready to explain, but I was ready to obey and be dominated as much as he was ready to have a submissive at his disposal.

On Valentine's Day that year, he brought out a fairly good sized gift box that was all done in red wrapping paper with hearts and bows all over. Included was a lovely card that said, "So happy you BELONG to me for Valentines." Could I have asked for a more perfect sentiment? Not at all.

Although I was disappointed that he did not give me flowers or candy, I was anxious and eager, so I ripped open the wrapping, once I was given permission, of course. As I unfolded the tissue paper, I found a beautiful studded dog collar, in pink of course, and a matching leash, attached with a tag that read, "put me on I have a surprise for you."

Without hesitation I put it on and felt the crack of a riding crop across my naked ass, which sent shivers down my spine to my pussy and I could feel my juices begin to flow as the heat and sting from each slap of the crop landed on the same spot on my bottom each time. I moved my fingers closer to satisfy my craving and was "rewarded" with a very strong handed whip/slap and a harsh, "did I give you permission to play with my pussy?"

I lowered my head and replied, "No sir," and could feel the pain and the overwhelming urge to have an orgasm, which my owner could see by my anxious wiggling.

He smiled and gave me permission to play with my pussy and the wetness I found made it so easy to slide my fingers deep into my pussy. I quickly massaged my clit to a wonderful orgasm, and at just the moment that I felt my orgasm take over, and as he swung the crop, I damn near fell to my knees with the intensity of the throbbing of my pussy lips and clit. Not once...not twice but three times one right after the other!

Home Movies with Patsy (20 February 2011)

"So, hun, have you thought about what you'd like to do for Valentine Day tomorrow? Let's avoid the candy/flowers/chocolate and dinner cliche. Maybe find something we can both revel in? How about we dress you up sexy and turn some heads? You have so many teasing outfits that easily blow open or up. You can choose to flash your camel toe and sweet cheeks or go commando and bare it all. How does that sound?"

"You KNOW what I like. Maybe I should just go jogging commando in a mini skirt again. I really liked that since it felt so free and out of my control. You can follow discretely and watch the show and see if anyone cares. Is that my gift to YOU too?"

Yes, I DO know what she likes. "Well since you finally confessed how much you like flashing strangers, and pretty much everyone, I've learned to bask in your joy. Watching the sun or other eyes stare at your exposed tits, ass and bare pussy now makes my dick twitch; so yes it is a gift to me too."

"I'm so happy we came together, so to speak, and found joy in my fetish. Surprise me. I'll do ANYthing you like."

"I'm so glad you're leaving it to me. I've seen Ken trying to sneak a peek every time you bend over and tease him. Why don't we keep it small tonight and use him and maybe his girl? It feels like he's been hiding her. I wonder if she's real or just really ugly. I bet it won't take much to let you taste his cum. We can share hers and let them sample ours. Isn't that so much better than flowers?"

"Hmmmmm... We haven't met her yet, so she might be a challenge and a surprise, especially with VD here. I like it. Make it happen and surprise me. I'm going for a jog ...commando in my sports shorts, so you aren't missing much."

Albert and Lucinda (18 February 2011)

I would watch him for hours from my bedroom window. He was the most perfect specimen of a man I ever knew. To this day, I can't get over how absolutely beautiful he was, in every respect. He was the first man I ever took inside my body. I willingly gave him my maidenhead and have never regretted it for an instant.

His family was from Columbia. His mother and father traveled quite a bit as they owned a textile import business, leaving Albert and his younger sister Soagia, home alone a good deal of the time.

Soagia became my best friend in elementary school and as we girls grew through puberty, first boyfriends and so on, and as we shared so many of our hopes and dreams, we became more like sisters than neighbors.

Albert was fifteen years older than his sister. He doted on her and therefore, by association, he too, doted on me. We were his damsels and it was his duty to keep us from distress.

I fell in love with Albert the moment I laid eyes on him and in some respects, maybe deep inside, I knew I spent more time with Soagia than I ordinarily would have done, if it were not for Albert being ever present in her, and therefore, my life. But, over the years, Soagia forgave me when she finally figured out that I lusted after her brother. She told me that if he were not her brother, she too would have willingly given him her own virginity.

Albert did two things each day without fail. He tended the family grounds which had, without question, the most beautiful and imaginative garden in our town. The other thing he did for two hours every day, was lift weights. His physique was like a Greek God. He was also gay.

Abby`s Special Valentine (16 February 2011)

The delivery boy stood in front of Abby's desk waiting for a signature while she tried to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks.

"Lady please I've got about a thousand deliveries to make today, just sign my sheet and I'll get out of your way."

He was right she could do this; she took the sheet and scribbled on the line where he pointed. When she handed it back to him, she noticed a wet teardrop on the bottom and this made her start again.

"Nice flowers Abby, you didn't tell me you had a man on the side."

"Oh real nice Clair, no these are from Steve"

Abby really didn't blame Clair; even she didn't believe that her husband was enough of a romantic to send flowers to her office on Valentine's Day. She reread the card again,

"To my darling wife, just because I don't tell you I love you enough doesn't mean I don't. You mean more to me that life itself and I want you to think of me as you go through your day."

It was signed Happy Valentine, Love, S.

Abby began to cry again, her Steve, her rugged man, the one who didn't even like holding hands in public as if it were too much of a public display of affection sent her flowers and a love note to her office. Did he even have a clue how cool it was to get Valentines presents at work, probability not. For once, all the girls were green with envy of her and it felt good.

Abby was the queen of the lunchroom and just about everybody stopped by to congratulate her, even her boss told her it was a nice thought from her husband. When she heard Clair's voice, she forced herself back to reality,

Iris & Me (12 February 2011)

Several years ago, I was in a long distance relationship with a gal in Northern New York. She was a student there and I was a student in Michigan and every other weekend, I skipped Friday classes and drove across Canada to get laid. That was most of our relationship. We'd met online originally and in person the previous summer at Shakespeare in the Park. That day, by intermission we'd ditched our friends and were making out in the bushes.

Iris was (and I assume still is) GORGEOUS! About 5'5", curvy but not overweight, long, light brown hair, big, full breasts, the kind that women who get implants would KILL for. And she loved sex. There wasn't much else to our relationship, but we had GREAT sex. And Iris loved saucy innuendo. We could wander the Metropolitan Museum of Art on 5th for hours. She loved the Armor & Weapons display as much as I did and I could make endless comments about wanting to sheathe my sword in her or run her down with my lance. She'd purr and rub her ass against my crotch and, if no one was looking, would stroke the front of my jeans with her hand.

She was the first woman I'd ever gone down on in public. We had gotten back from Shakespeare that evening. We were in the hallway of a Manhattan apartment building where she was staying with friends. It was about 2am and we were saying our good byes. We were kissing frantically, trying to devour each other. I reached under sweatshirt with both hands and found that she was without bra. I caressed those glorious mams, feeling their delicious fleshiness. I twisted her nipples gently was rewarded with a groan of "More!" into my mouth. Like a gentleman, I obliged.

Invisible Glenn (10 February 2011)

One afternoon Glenn Smith read something in a magazine that really caught his eye. It was about a brand new product that when a person sprayed it on his body it made him totally invisible. The product was really developed for the United States military so they could spy on the enemy without being seen or heard.

"We can watch and listen to people for hours and they'll have no clue we're looking right over their shoulders," the article says. "We can go wherever they do and find out what they're doing without them ever knowing a thing. It's the greatest thing since the machine gun."

Now Glenn had no interest at all in the military but the thought of a product that could make a person invisible really got his mind racing. He began thinking of all the neat things he could do if he was invisible. He thought one of the first things he'd do with it was spy on his co-workers to find out what they were up to when he wasn't looking. He was very sure a couple of them were up to no good.

But minutes later he thought of a much better use for it that would be a lot more fun. He could spray the stuff on and making himself invisible when he wanted to watch his women co-workers. He thought of the two girls who he'd love to watch without them ever knowing it. He even imagined he could even go into the ladies' restroom without getting caught.

Invisible (08 February 2011)

My favourite part is watching her get ready. Sometimes it's almost unbearable. She knows this, but pretends ignorance. This is a rule. From the moment she closes the bathroom door and the lock slides into place, I no longer exist. I must wait for her silently in the bedroom. I listen to the shower, and I imagine rivulets of warm water slipping over her naked skin. I picture hands on freshly shaven flesh, caressing pristine soap over smooth, tanned contours and pink, pointed nipples. I wring my hands in impatience. I cross my legs to tighten the crotch of my pants. I wait.

I remember the third night we tried it. I rarely acknowledge the first two attempts, since they were both disastrous. The first time, nerves caused us to back out before things really got started. The second time was disappointing for other reasons; let's just say a case of one party exaggerating certain traits and leave it at that. But the third try was perfect. It was the night when both of us got close to realising what we had talked about for so many weeks beforehand. From that point on I knew we would become addicted.

At 7:45 that evening Marie emerged from the bathroom in just a towel. Her damp, auburn hair was sleek and shiny, curling slightly around the edges. She sat down at the dressing table and used the hair dryer. I was sitting on the edge of the bed behind her. I studied her reflection in the mirror. The towel was tucked in on itself just above her breasts. As she shifted around, it became loose, threatening to unfurl. I watched greedily, hoping it would fall. The crease became more and more slack. I was breathing heavily, biting my bottom lip. She reached up to run her fingers through her long hair as she directed the dryer, and the fold in her towel finally gave. It slid smoothly down off her breasts. Marie hesitated a second, then continued. She blushed just slightly, but she did not meet my eyes in the mirror.

Into The Clearing (06 February 2011)

Daren took the job because he was tired of the office life, the back-biting, the economics, the intrigue. He needed to get away, slow down, hear himself think for awhile. Also, because he had a scare that made him reconsider his career moves. When he heard about the job as Ranger, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. He had worked with the Forestry Department straight out of college for a few years and had really loved it. But his girlfriend, Abby, insisted he "make something of himself".

So he found a job in the corporate world and joined the fast track to success and happiness. Success came quickly, happiness never did. He moved up the corporate ladder easily, he was a team player and had an innate ability to please the masses. He was successful, really, beyond all his expectations. But he lost so much. Abby moved on to a man who had more time for her. His parents grew old and died while he was in meetings. His brothers and sister found love, marriage, kids and suburban living. Even his old college pals headed in different directions, actually doing all the things they had idealistically planned in late night dorm sessions.

Daren chased the dream Abby had for him, making it his dream, buying a spacious apartment, filling it with lovely furniture and expensive toys, moving in elite circles. He rarely had time to think, and when he did, he rarely thought about his life, just his next deal.

When he had the first chest pains, he ignored them. They persisted. Working out caused his chest to hurt. Eating caused his chest to hurt. Preparing for meetings caused his chest to hurt. Finally, just being asleep, alone, in his own bed, caused his chest to hurt. His doctor told him that this was a warning sign. He was a young man, healthy and strong, yet his body was rebelling against his stress-filled life. The doctor recommended a long vacation, followed by a more relaxed lifestyle.

Intimate Travellers (04 February 2011)

It had been ages since they had hooked up on a train journey together. They had both been so busy, but neither of them had forgotten that amazing journey a few weeks ago. She stood staring up at the boards, checking her train time, when she felt warm breath in her ear and a soft voice asked:

'Miss me?'

She giggled as he turned her round. Glancing about swiftly, he planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

'Hello stranger' she said, feeling her heart rate double immediately.

'It's Platform 5 and its busy, come on!' He took her by the arm and they ran to the platform, laughing. They found two seats together on one side of a table. He took her coat and briefcase and placed it in the overhead rack with his. They sat, opened up a laptop each and then looked at each other, smiling.

'How was your holiday time?' she asked as the train pulled away.

The thought of two hours in his company was so lovely and exciting. She was hoping that the last time wasn't just a crazy hot-headed moment; she enjoyed his company and friendship so much, but knew how much she wanted him and could feel it, deep inside her.

Intimate Apparel (02 February 2011)

When he walked into their small apartment, it was silent except for a rustling in the bedroom. He poked his head into the room that made up their bedroom, almost calling out her name. He stopped only because he had some strange inkling that he knew what would come next if he kept watching from the doorway. On the bed, which lie facing the opposite corner of the room from the door, lay his girlfriend of a year and a half.

In the dim light that the setting sun provided, he watched her with rising interest as she wriggled out of her tight jeans. She kicked the denim to the floor with her long smooth legs and just as quickly pulled the shirt over her head. He could feel himself getting hard at the sight of her nearly naked body, thinking about the feeling of her skin under his tongue. Her smooth, white skin was soft everywhere he could think to lick her. He exhaled silently, touching the growing erection in his pants.

If the outer layer of her clothes had been a quick assault on his body’s senses, then what came next was a slow, intimate tease. Closing her eyes, Carrie threw her long, wavy hair up on the pillows. She exhaled slowly, sliding her hands down the length of her body and stroking tender places like her inner thighs, hips and up along her stomach to her breasts.

Interrupted (31 January 2011)

There is a knock at the door. She doesn't answer because she is lying in her bed. Fantasizing about the guy who lives upstairs. Masturbating.

The person at the door is extremely persistent

"Hold on a second" she says to the visitor as she quickly rolls out of bed. Searching for something to throw on. Finding a pair of gym shorts on the floor. The visitor does not wait. The door opens.

She freezes. Shorts half way on. No shirt. He just stands there moving his eyes up and down her body. Feeling his gaze she pulls the shorts on all the way. Covering her ass and already wet pussy.

"What were you doing?" he asks as he takes a step forward.

"I was...changing...getting ready for bed," she says as she pulls on a white T-shirt. Avoiding his eyes.

"For some reason I don't believe you' he says as he moves forward. Pushing her against the wall. She can feel his cock pressing into her thigh. "How about you tell me the truth?"

He grabs her arms and holds them above her head. She begins to struggle a little trying to break free. All that she succeeds in doing is make him tighten his grasp and push his body up closer to hers.
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