Creampie Stories

As much as I like her and find her erotic and fun, there is one thing I wish I could change about Jota: she dislikes cum. The expression of distaste on her face as she views semen clearly indicates she hates it. She hates the smell, the texture, the taste… the very essence of sperm. After my successful visit with her, I decided I would do something about that if I ever had the chance.

My chance came surprisingly quickly. Less than a week passed before she called to say the problem with her computer was back, and could I come out to help? I agreed and found myself at her house the next day.

It took a minute to fix her computer. I had removed a rogue application from the Start Up folder so that it wouldn’t automatically run anymore. Seeing the symptoms, I looked and there enough was that stupid program. Seeing her sheepish smile, I new she had planted it, and I praised her ingenuity.

With the computer fixed and her intentions clear, I recommended that she needed to be ’serviced’ as well. “Might as well get you running right too,” I smiled.

She agreed.

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Filed by Creampie at 1:48 pm under Creampie Stories
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I have a great old friend I call Jota. Long ago, when she was my secretary, she called a girl a Jota (pronounced Hota). I asked what it meant, and she told me it was mexican slang for ‘pussy’. It became an in-joke between us, and eventually my affectionate pet name for her after we became, uh, ‘intimate’.

Our intimacy didn’t last long enough. We had become lovers to help us each survive bad marriages. So when her marriage improved and she was let go from my company, we grew apart. It was painful, but I was happy for her even while I was still stuck in a bad marriage. We’d see each other and I once ate her in her bathroom and she once fulfilled my fantasy to be fucked with a strap-on, but it was infrequent.

One thing that did survive our distance was my role as her computer problem solver. She and her husband are computer illiterates, and she has teen boys who ‘do things’ to their computer. Thus, I am sometimes called out to fix their ailing system. When they got their new computer last year, I figured they wouldn’t need me for a while.

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Filed by Creampie at 5:56 pm under Creampie Stories
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I watched his forehead intently, seeing the perspiration form on his brow. A bead formed surprisingly quickly and finally detached to begin traveling down the bridge of his nose. There, it gathered momentum as it joined with other beads. Finally, it reached the tip and hung on for just a moment before dripping off. The droplet fell until it struck my wife on her cheek, there to mingle with her own sweat.

Nancy was as drenched with sweat as Seth, the man fucking her. To Nancy, sex was better when it was all hot and sweaty. Thus, we were in an airless cheap motel room, the air conditioning off and heavy curtains pulled across the windows. The atmosphere reeked with the scent of sex. I guessed that the nasty floral polyester bedspread was a total loss.

I watched, perched on the edge of the ancient over-stuffed chair. I could see Seth’s heavily veined penis sliding in and out of Nancy’s pudgy pussy. Her vulva was filled with heated blood, her big floppy lips clinging to Seth’s cock. I was grateful now that she had ‘made’ me shave her clean for the weekend. I was afforded a much better view of how wet she was.

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Filed by Creampie at 6:46 pm under Creampie Stories
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My neighborhood is quite integrated for a Suburban community. Before Shirley and Donovan moved in, a very nice Indian couple had owned their house. I don’t have a prejudiced bone in my body, and it was only my frenetic work schedule that had kept me from introducing myself to them. I took it as a kindly thing that Donovan caught me when I was coming home from my morning run to introduce himself and ask my wife Jane and I to a dinner party that weekend. I had seen Donovan, and so I wasn’t frightened when the very large black man stopped me in the pre-dawn darkness.

Jane had worked the neighborhood gossip mill, and coached me before the party. “Donovan is a security expert,” she told me, “and he has been working as many hours as you have since September 11. You should a lot to talk about.”

I worked in the airport design business, and security was a hot topic these days. “Gotcha,” I agreed.

“Shirley is very nice,” Jane continued, brushing on some makeup or something womanly. “She was president of a club of some kind in her old neighborhood.”

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Filed by Creampie at 11:48 pm under Creampie Stories
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I couldn’t help but look at my watch. Procedural wranglings were delaying the trial and making it more likely I would be back in court for yet another day. My boss was getting itchy about the time I was spending as a juror instead of being at work. Doing my patriotic duty was a pain in the ass!

The plaintive and defendant sat across the aisle from each other, trading nasty looks. Well, as nasty as “pretty people” could be. The plaintive, Gwen Kinsey, was absolutely stunning. It looked like she had learned from that sordid estate trial of Anna Nicole Smith, and had tried to be as conservative as possible. Her dress was neat and conservative, her hair was kept in a perfect conservative french roll, her makeup was conservative, and her testimony had been as conservative as the subject had allowed. I even suspected she was wearing fake eyeglasses to appear more plain and proper, if not prudish. But there was no denying that she was a beautifully maintained woman, in the prime of life, and just plain gorgeous.

The defendant, Scott Kinsey, was gorgeous in his own right. He was a hunk of a man beneath his hand-tailored suit, his shoulders broad without padding, his chest deep and tapering to his waist . His finely chiseled, aristocratic face had an intelligent, thoughtful look. His brown eyes were soulful when he looked at the jury box. His face was framed with a fine haircut, just long enough to make me suspect he had quite a joi de vie, and turning a delicate silver (not gray!) colour at his temples. The overall impression I got was a man who lived life fully, and enjoyed his wealth to the max. In short, he was the sort of man who kept my pussy in a constant state of moistness.

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Filed by Creampie at 10:51 pm under Creampie Stories
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