Much Better Than The Gym!

Much Better Than The Gym!
by MRDeany©

As I steered my Audi into the car park a small, trim, mature-looking lady was walking out of the gym and I stopped the car to let her walk across the road.

She gave me a very pleasant wave and smile as a 'thank you' and, as I admired her very large looking bust which was only emphasized by how petite she was, I waved back and nodded in acknowledgement. Her pink t-shirt and the sports vest she was wearing over the top were both figure-hugging and in profile the outline of her breasts looked even more impressive. As she walked on away from me I then appreciated how cute and pert her backside was, also clearly defined by the figure hugging leggings she was wearing.

Disappointed that this sexy lady wasn't going to be in the gym, as a pleasant distraction from my work-out, I drove on and pulled into a free parking space only for the same woman to get into a top of the range BMW parked directly in front of me. The lady again smiled and I pretended to get something from the glove compartment just so I could watch her a bit longer.

She dumped her sports bag onto the passenger seat, pulled down the sun visor to check her self in the mirror, ruffled her from-a-bottle-looking blonde, shoulder-length hair and then appeared to put the key in the ignition. Aware that it was probably now obvious I was looking at her I reached round to pick up my own bag and as I turned round again the BMW literally jumped forward and knocked into the front of my car.

The lady looked horrified and after a brief pause jumped out of her car.

"I'm so, so sorry," she gushed, as I got out of mine and moved round towards her.

"It's my stupid husbands, stupid car, I'm only using it because mine is being serviced, and I'm not used to the gears, I really thought it was in reverse."

"It's OK, it's OK", I tried to calm her down, "these things happen, are you OK?"

"Yes thank you," she unsurprisingly said as it had been such a minor 'accident'!

"Well, that's the main thing," I reassured her "and it looks like it was just bumper to bumper so I expect it is all fine. Why don't you reverse back slightly and we can just double check?"

As the lady got back into her car, I moved round to her door which was still open and asked smiling, "is it definitely in reverse this time?"

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Midnight Bowling

Midnight Bowling
by Slickman©

Note from Slick: I get a lot of requests for married couples and games and thought I'd do a bowling league. But this one is a special soft-swing league that rewards the winning couple. Check it out. All rights reserved.

*

Allan and Betsy had been married seven years without children when both realized their life sucked. They both worked long hours during the week but on the weekends found themselves home on most Saturday nights. It was at the library when Betsy saw the advertisement on the community bulletin board.

"MIDNIGHT BOWLING LEAGUE FOR COUPLES, Open to all couples who want to have fun and meet others. Private bowling after hours. Call 555-9455."

Since they had bowled in a small league after college Betsy called the phone number after she got home.

"Hello," a woman's voice answered.

"Uh...hi, I'm calling about the Midnight Bowling league."

"Yes, what did you want to know?"

"Details I guess," Betsy answered. "How many couples, how much does it cost and I guess how serious are the bowlers?"

"Right now we only have six couples but one couple is moving away. The cost is $40 per week and most of us are not very good at bowling."

"OK, that sounds great," Betsy said. "I'll need to ask my husband."

"Why don't you and your husband stop by our house and we can cover some of the other things about the league?"

It was a Saturday morning so Betsy knew they were bowling that night. "Can we just stop by tonight and watch?"

"No, I'm sorry. The building is locked for our league. We and the ball return man are the only ones in the building. Maybe you two can stop by after dinner tonight?"

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Meyer's College

Meyer's College, a Div. of Southeastern University (Part 01)

By: The Cape Cod Beach Bum

AN INTRODUCTION

This story takes place on the campus of Meyer's College, a division of Southeastern University. It is named in honor of Jacob Meyer, without whose endowment and foresight, the College would not even exist. Dr. Meyer was a member of the original Masters and Johnson sexual research team in the mid 20th Century.

The co-founders of the College are Dr Elizabeth Finch-Walker, MD,OB/Gyn and Sexual Dysfunction; her husband Dr Carl Walker, MD, Psychiatry; and Dr Amy Thompson, MD, Psychiatry.

Both Beth and Carl were original class members, of the first course given at Southeastern University in the field of Human Sexuality, HS-201. It was taught by their colleague, and College co-founder, Dr Amy Thompson, MD. Other classmates of theirs are also Professors at Meyer's, and Southeastern University, and will be introduced as the story unfolds.

The setting is a recently vacated and renovated mansion on a hill, overlooking the main section of the Southeastern University campus. It formally housed the Alpha Omega fraternity, and became available due to declining interest in fraternity life at the end of the 20th Century. The building is two stories, approximately square in plan, with twelve bedrooms on the 2nd floor around the building's perimeter, surrounding two staircases and a communal bath-shower room in the core. Each bedroom is designed to house two occupants. The 1st floor consists of a kitchen, a community dining room, 2 quiet study rooms, a recreation/TV room, a gymnasium, and office/treatment rooms for the Staff. An Olympic sized swimming pool in the rear garden rounds out the facility.

We now pickup the story in progress. The group is assembled in the recreation/TV room, Doctors Walker and Dr Thompson have just finished introducing themselves, and given their credentials to the assembled students. Carl is speaking.

"We would like to take this opportunity to welcome you, the initial class here at Meyer College. We realize that most of you are wondering what you are doing here, and why you are a separate entity, yet a part of Southeastern University."

"Eight short years ago, Southeastern undertook the challenge of turning out the highest trained group of graduates in the field of Human Sexuality. It began by offering one of the first, and certainly the most trailblazing of courses ever offered in the field, Human Sexuality, HS-201."

"Beth and I were both members of that class."

"It was taught by Dr. Thompson."

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Melissa's Pool and the Guys

Melissa's Pool and the Guys

By JoannaK

When I think of the particular days in my life which completely changed my sexual world-view, it’s hard not to recall the day I met Melissa. I'd seen her walking past our house several times, and eventually we ran into each other at the corner store, where we discovered we both liked the same chocolates, and we had gone to the same primary school and so on from there.

Melissa was 21, three years older than I. She was studying Human Movements at the nearby University of Queensland, the same institution I expected to join shortly. As we walked back together from the shop, since it was a typically hot and dry afternoon in mid-January, she invited me over for a swim at her house. My family didn't have a pool so I was glad to accept, and since I hated being held up by my parents while they asked me about where I was going, who I was going with, and so on, when we got to my house, I ran in, shoved my togs and towel into a bag, scribbled a quick note for my parents and ran out again.

I was wearing a singlet and shorts with sandals, sunglasses and a broad-brimmed hat to protect my pale complexion. In those days, it was common for me not to wear a bra near home, particularly in summer, and I rarely wore a shirt or blouse over the top of a singlet. Apart from comfort reasons, I was a late developer physically and didn't really look 'womanly' in my opinion until my late twenties.

Melissa, on the other hand, was immediately attractive to the male eye, with naturally blonde hair reaching well down her back and an impressive bustline which made her T-shirt stand out quite a way from her chest. She had beautiful wide blue eyes and I remember thinking she had particularly full lips. She also had remarkably long and smooth tanned legs over which she wore a tight denim skirt with sandals quite similar to my own.

Just before we got to her house, we passed two good-looking guys who looked like older uni students. They were also wearing sunglasses but as they walked past, their heads definitely swivelled towards Melissa. A few seconds after they passed, I glanced back to confirm they were also appreciating her rear view. This sort of casual perving from males used to drive me up the wall, but as I would soon discover, Melissa's attitude to male attention was very different to mine.

As we walked through her front gate, I could hear rock music coming from a stereo inside the house with several people talking loudly over it. As she led the way around the pool which was next to the short driveway at the front of the house, Melissa told me her brother was having a party with some of his rowing friends.

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Mandy's Addiction

Mandy's Addiction
by kinpatsu©

I don't know why I do it. Somewhere deep inside me I know that it's wrong in some way, but I still go there. It's also not as if I couldn't have any boy I wanted. I'm not blind, and I can see the effect I have on them. There's always someone new asking me out and I always say "no". It's been this way since I was sixteen. Now that I'm in my third year of college I get those signals from even older guys Those sub-verbal cues that speak as loud as words.

I haven't put on a bra today as I leave the house; I really don't need one. My breasts are medium-small and sit high and proud. I've noticed that guys will look at them just as much as they do at girls with large breasts when I don't wear a bra. I found I liked to tease them that way, although I usually do wear one if only to conceal my nipples. They have minds of their own, and will come out to play for quite unexpected situations.

In fact, one time in high school I got sent home because of those nipples. The vice principle had a hard time explaining to me just why I had to go home, but he did manage to tell me I would have to wear some support if I wanted to come back. After that I usually did wear a bra, but when I didn't I generally wore a vest or a jacket that would allow them to peek out if I wanted them to, but could be concealed in an instant if that stuffy vice principle came around.

I live at my parents house now, for various reasons. For one thing it's cheaper than the dorm, but mostly it's because of this habit I have. Just outside our back yard is a deep, tree filled ravine that is owned by the city. They call it a park, but it's mostly just a wild area that would be difficult to build houses on. The city did go in and build a network of trails through it, thus justifying it's title of "Park." Although the legitimate trails were created and maintained by the city, there are endless smaller trails making a spider web of interlocking routes made by animals and children over the years. One of these begins in our back yard. I follow it out and into the gloom under the trees.

I am wearing panties today. I know for some guys it's a serious turn on to know that a girl isn't wearing any, but for my purposes it's better to have them on. Guys always fumble with bra clasps, but I've never yet had a boy who had trouble getting the panties off- even if I had to help a little. Today I don't really plan on keeping them on long, but if I don't give him something to take his time with it all goes too fast.

I don't necessarily take the same route over the paths. There are a couple of ways to get almost there, and they all take about the same amount of time. The secret is the last hundred yards or so. We have to be careful not to make the trail look too used or some of the pot heads would find our place. Getting caught doesn't bother me, but those dumb asses would wreck the whole arrangement. At last I come to the cut off.

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Greek Goddess Nectar

Greek Goddess Nectar
by beachb0y©

My family and I were traveling through Europe a few years ago when we decided to change our travel plans. We were in Greece at the time and the flight changes involved finding a travel agent who could speak English and make all the necessary booking changes. This is always my part in planning a trip, so my wife left it to me.

I got ready early one morning while the wife and kids fought about who would use the bathroom after me and walked into the travel agent's office next to the hotel. I was struck by the huge posters advertising the glorious Greek Isles, not because of the islands, but because each poster was graced by a gorgeous woman in a revealing bikini in various poses that aroused me. The poster for Santorini was a brunette in the blue strapless with her cleavage in the face of the viewer as she splashed out of the seawater. A blonde in a white bikini was lying on a beach on Crete and calling me to lie between her tanned thighs. Finally, just above the agent's chair were two women in mini skirts and very little else, sweating and grinding their way to seeming ecstasy with each other on some dance floor – the poster led me to believe that Corfu awaits me. Greece is an incredibly sexy place.

"Paragalo...may I help you?" the voice below the sexy twosome asked.

She was a dark eyed beauty with long, straight raven-black hair. Like many people in Greece, she could appear friendly without much of a smile. Her pouty lips were painted an inviting red.

"Hi, I was wondering if I could change my return flight to London with you."

Her fingers were already dancing on the keyboard before she said, "Let me see what I can do for you." The nameplate in front of her told me I was drooling over Tania.

She typed for a while and then asked me for my current tickets. As I handed them to her, she reached over her desk and I was given a generous hint of the most eye-catching cleavage ever. Tania was wearing a black suit jacket, but I could not see any hint of anything else as I saw nearly half of both her luscious breasts. They were tanned like the skin of the Crete woman on the poster to her right. I quickly lost myself in the poster again to avoid seeming like the leering lech this trip to Greece was making me into.

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FLORIDA HEAT

FLORIDA HEAT
by Art Martin

Helen wasn’t much when it came to being sexually adventurous. We had been married almost ten years and every year our sex life became less and less interesting. After some protracted foreplay, if I were lucky, she’d begrudgingly consent to let me fuck her in the missionary, so long as I didn’t take too much time. I got my rocks off, but she, more or less just lay there, showing absolutely no signs of life on her part, much less enjoyment. Afterwards, she’d complain that the problem was that my penis was too big or she was tired, or some other excuse.
She didn’t like to give head. Said it was disgusting. I promised not to cum in her mouth. She said no, it’s still disgusting. I tried cunnilingus, but she still said I was being disgusting. I told her to just relax and enjoy it. She didn’t enjoy it. Said my stubble chaffed her legs. To her disgust, I regularly jacked off in bed like a hormone-charged teenager. About the only thing she did like was a good tittie sucking. At the mere suggestion of anal sex she went ballistic, calling me a perverted animal.
We went to counseling, but after two years we were only poorer without any improvement in our sexual relationship. In an effort to break the ice that had formed between us, I seriously suggested that we vacation at a nudist resort. That got me no where. In frustration, I took to taunting her, telling her how I wanted to fuck her in the ass, telling her how I wanted to jab my dick down her throat, and telling her how I wanted to bring some buddies over to loosen up her cunt. I never really did any of those things, but my taunts only made things worse, if that was possible.
Then one day, I came home early and found her in bed, locked in a 69 with her best friend, the dreaded Karen. That explained everything. I just wish she’d been honest with me and just admitted that she was a dyke. She wasted my life and her life in a marriage that had no chance of success. I was in the right, filed for divorce, but still had my clock cleaned. Still, it was worth not being shackled in a relationship that fundamentally was no relationship at all.
Free of stone-cold Helen, I boldly thrust myself into the dating scene after a decade-long hiatus. I discovered a series of single mothers and divorcees that were very nice to fuck. After a near celibate life with Helen, any sex was fantastic, especially with the women who truly liked a guy with a big cock and who really got nasty. But I didn’t have a real emotional connect with any of them. After sex, none of them were personally all that interesting to me, that is until I was horny again.

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Empty Nest

Empty Nest
by aprguy©

On the surface the two couples seemed to be too different to have much in common; but, as they say, looks can be deceiving.

Darren and Jane on one hand were the quintessential urban family couple. Expressive, vocal, involved, engaged -- the best way to describe them both was "Larger than Life". They coached, managed and volunteered countless hours over the years with the kids' sports. They were tireless fundraisers for charities and good-causes all over the place. Always busy, always doing, always larger than life.

Rob and Barb, on the other hand were much, much quieter. They kept to themselves, didn't makes waves, were great sports parents but preferred to keep in the background and keep their family matters more private. They were great people, just not "out there" like their good friends.

The only thing that these two couples really had in common was their kids -- the younger ones to be exact. Both couples had older sons that had completely different interests, but the girls, Catherine and Amy, met on the soccer pitch and started a friendship that spilled over to hockey and brought these two very different families together. As the girls grew up the two families had a great, comfortable relationship; never spending too much time together, but meeting up regularly to trade war stories as the girls hockey paths went in different directions. Darren and Jane appreciated the calm counsel and away-from-the-rat-race quiet that an evening with their friends brought while Rob and Barb loved to live vicariously through the couple that always seemed to be doing something.

But..change was in the air. The two boys had been away at school for a couple of years, but Catherine and Amy had just left home to go off to university -- both on hockey scholarships and at two rival schools about two hours apart and about 4 hours from home. While both couples figured that their kids would come home to live for a while after university (don't they all!), the four parents were all, at least temporarily, empty nesters.

It was a beautiful, late summer day and the two couples had finally re-connected after the frenzied period of getting kids off to college and coming to terms with the fact that they had to let go and couldn't be there to help. Once the four of them (the moms especially) had worked through their anxiety and supposed loss of "purpose", they all realized that they could finally become more couple-centred and hedonistic and the possibilities seemed endless. As they sat around in Darren and Jane's kitchen preparing dinner they traded stories about how their lives had changed already.

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Cindy by the Pool

Cindy by the Pool

By cindyandal


Cindy smoothed the last of the oil on her body, luxuriously rubbing it into her skin. When she finished, she picked up a tube of sun block, SPF 35. Carefully, she squeezed a small amount into her palm. With one finger, she took a dab and traced the white tan lines around her crotch where her bathing suit would normally be. She took a little more and covered the small amount of white she still had left on her cute butt; then spread more over the other white parts, mostly on the undersides of her breasts. She had no strap lines, so she didn’t have to worry about those.

She was then about ready. The sun would continue tanning the places already bronzed, but, she hoped, she wouldn’t burn the white parts that had not been exposed. She considered carefully, and decided that she had hit all the spots. As she gazed across her naked body, she became excited. Her heart was racing, just a little, at what she was about to do.

She lay back down, facing up, on her lounge, and waited for Steve, the pool boy, to arrive.

For the past few weeks she had been getting increasingly excited watching Steve work when he came by, once a week. Steve was new. He was young, muscular, and attentive to Cindy as she lay out, watching him. She had bought three new bikinis, each one skimpier than the last, but last week she had realized it still was not enough. Today she was nude, brazenly so, and she wanted fuck Steve. Nothing like this had ever occurred to her before, but she had become increasingly excited as the week went by and she planned and fantasized about how it would go.

The thought of the sheer wantonness sometimes scared her, but it also intensified her excitement and filled her with lust. She would be a slut, showing she had only one thing on her mind, and she would not back down.

She was trembling as she lay there, feeling the familiar warmth of the sun, knowing that any second he could walk through the gate and see her lying there nude, openly and unashamedly nude, and he would know why.

She thought her heart would beat through her chest as she waited, wanting to chicken out and yet pushing that thought as far away as she could. She would do this thing, so unlike any she had ever done before.

Cindy closed her eyes and dreamed. Without really thinking about it, her hand moved up and began to play with a nipple. She loved the feeling of the warmth and the open air and the hardening of the nipple between her fingers. With eyes still closed, Cindy lost herself in the feelings and her thoughts about what she was about to do.

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Caught

Caught
by Hizchick©

The tang of residual breakfast salsa from Allan's lips tingled on mine as I waved and closed the door. Dressed in my archetypal 'morning princess' attire that consisted of an oversized sleeveless sweatshirt that was just shy of threadbare and the diminutive sized men-style boxers that I find so comfortable, I'm ready for work. Armed with a steaming mug of coffee, I'm eager to fire up the computer and check the latest orders for the fledgling lingerie business I own, and perhaps catch a quick read.

As the boot-up completed, my mind wandered in a completely different direction than lingerie orders. Having been kissed, bum-patted, and complimented on my culinary skills and stunning looks by a man who was obviously priming me for some amorous adventure upon his return, I quite naturally began to think about just that. Moreover, there was nothing tame about those thoughts either. Tonight was not going to be a night for mere lovemaking. No. Tonight I wanted to fuck. Who wouldn't fuck a guy that complimented you on a wonderful breakfast of cornflakes as his hands roamed every square inch of your ass? Certainly not me.

Having thought about sex for all of three minutes and already beginning to squirm in the large office chair, I went straight for the Internet. It was uncanny how quickly that the Literotica home page showed up, and I went directly to the latest stories. Being this was a favorite morning warm-up exercise, if all went as planned I hoped to be doing some serious sweating in no time.

Yes! Third story down a chick seduces the hotel bellboy in an elevator. That'll work, and I swigged a goodly shot of coffee as the story rolled across the screen.

I'm already reaching though the slit in the front of the boxers as elevator girl bends to reveal the fact she has gone commando under her mini. The bellboy being no fool and undoubtedly accustomed to having every amorous female hotel patron itching for a tryst with him in the elevator, kneels behind her and goes straight for her ass. Yes. It's on, and my fingers move to part my pussy-lips as I hike a leg onto the top of the large computer desk for better access.

Two paragraphs and a last sip of coffee later, the bellboy is really working elevator girl over with his tongue. The fingers of my left hand trace over my engorged clit while the right is shoved up my top and working a nipple. I cursed as I had to break away from the nipple to scroll.

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