I wish I could count the number of times another woman has called me a slut…after last night, I’m not sure they were wrong.
I can honestly say that I don’t normally do this sort of thing. I mean, I can count the number of one-night stands I have had on one hand. I’m just not the kind of girl that jumps into bed with every good looking piece of meat that buys me a drink. But at Sarah’s reception last night…
Sarah and Brian planned the day’s festivities so the wedding was just after lunch, a small ceremony of Sarah’s close friends and relatives, and then the reception – a party to top all parties – would be held in the evening. Continue reading Sex Stories – Slut→
I like to try things, different things, things most people would never dream of trying. Why? Because that’s where the best sex stories come from – experience.
“Lori, number 3.” The voice comes over the little speaker and a grin traces its way across my lips. I am Lori and my owner is behind door number 3.
I am sitting at the little makeup desk in my office. I pick up the black leather collar and buckle it around my neck. I love the way it feels, just snug enough that if my owner tugs, it bites a bit. I like that. Pain is a good reminder, a good teacher.
Are you going to watch me? Here, sit here in my dressing room and watch the television. See, you can see my master there. He can wait a few moments, it only makes it better. Continue reading Sex Stories – Pet→
sex Sometimes, I love nothing better than writing sex stories…
He hadn’t been on the floor for an hour before the talk started. Every nurse found a reason to swing by his room, you know, take a peek for themselves and see what all the fuss was about.
“Did you see him?” Rhonda sat behind the front of the main desk entering chart information.
I had already been on shift for six hours and had heard no less than ten girls (and a couple of the guys) talk about the man in 305C, but I had not made it to the far end of the hall…yet. “No,” I sighed, “but you would think he looks like Adonis the way everyone’s talking.”
“Girl, you don’t even know,” Rhonda sat back in her chair and laughed. “You know I loved Mr. Peters, been married eighteen years, thank the Lord, but that man down there? I almost think God would understand.” She laughed and I smiled as I made notes on a chart.