When I left for the library, she was preparing for another. ‘Preparing’ means she would put on a skimpy outfit designed to arouse the guys, trimming her bush down to nothing, and taking an enema if she wanted anal. She wanted anal tonite, and as I left she was working lube up her ass with a bullet vibrator.

One of the worse things was that she often hosted the party at our place if I was going to work. That meant it reeked of sex when I got home, and there’d be a new cigarette burn in the carpet. On the plus side, I didn’t have to worry about how she was getting home. On balance, it was better to do it at the apartment. If she was gone when I got home, I’d know something was wrong.

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So maybe it was a bad idea to take the new designer drug Taboo. This is a drug that’s chief benefit was a feeling of euphoria and good will, but whose chief negative was breakdown of inhibitions. Yeah, that negative was also cited as a positive, since users sometimes did new things they were too tightly wound to enjoy. We were all pretty stressed, so when Lee score three tabs we decided to pop ‘em and let the good times roll.

The feeling of happiness and power took me by surprise. I’d tried most other drugs, but this one rocked! I felt like I was glowing, and I smiled so much it hurt. It wasn’t until later that I realized my judgment was impaired.

One of the things we decided was to play a game we called “Taboo”. Pretty original name, huh? It was like Truth or Dare, but the idea was to expand our boundaries. We took turns suggesting something daring, and the other two would have to do it. If they didn’t, they risked being called a pussy. OK, laugh, because I know it isn’t a very strong penalty. But realize we made up the rules when we thought every thing was possible.

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“Hi Jenny,” he said. “You ready?” Like a gentleman, he reached for my backpack.

“Sure,” I said, handing him my pack. I noted how effortlessly he carried it.

As he led the way to his Suburban, he apologized, “I’m sorry, but I am on an important phone call. Can you be very quiet? I need to resolve this right away.”

“No problem!” I replied. I thought it would be fun to listen to him do business. My dad never talked about his work, so this would be a first. Mr. Green opened the passenger side back door, and I slid in. He handed me my pack and shut the door.

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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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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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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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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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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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In fact, though, I am naturally extra-reserved when I get tipsy. I do like the burn the cognac gives me, but that sets off a warning bell that tells me to be cautious. I don’t like to feel out of control. Thus, Joe’s expensive hooch has the opposite effect to that which he intends, putting me on guard.

Tonight was a great example. I knew he wanted something, and I merely waited until he sprang his ill-conceived idea on me. He was close on drunk before he had the courage, while I had just sipped half of one brandy glass.

“Honey, you are so sexy,” he said. Whether he knew it or not, those words were his standard introduction to his fantasies. Tonight he had poor timing. His soft cock was in my mouth, and I was trying hard to get the flaccid thing stiff. He suffered from erection problems when he drank, and he suffered from wisdom problems too.

“MMMMmmmmpfh?” I asked, my mouth full of dick. I had been contemplating faking a headache, because getting him hard was just not worth the effort.

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I regarded her with the affectionate eye of a husband who loves his wife. She looked very fetching even so, from her black patent-leather pumps (with shiny gold buckles) to her cute blonde bob with the little flip in the back. In between, she wore black hose, a red sheath dress, and a wrap of some kind that reminded me of the TV character Maude. The Maude-look was more than offset by the deep bustline that let me see more than a little of the creases between her breasts. The overall effect was festive, a bit sexy, and yet conservative enough for our friends.

“You look great,” I told her with warmth.

“You aren’t lying?” she asked, biting her blood red lower lip (I love red lipstick!). “You’re not being nice?”

I came to hug her. “I am being nice, but you look nice in any case.” We hugged firmly, but not so much that her look would be smushed.

“My hair looks OK?” she asked. I nodded, finally liking her hair again now that it had grown out. I wanted to forget the entire “Pixie Cut” episode, as we referred to it. I especially liked the sexy modern flip, and told her so.

“And my makeup is OK?”

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I regarded her with the affectionate eye of a husband who loves his wife. She looked very fetching even so, from her black patent-leather pumps (with shiny gold buckles) to her cute blonde bob with the little flip in the back. In between, she wore black hose, a red sheath dress, and a wrap of some kind that reminded me of the TV character Maude. The Maude-look was more than offset by the deep bustline that let me see more than a little of the creases between her breasts. The overall effect was festive, a bit sexy, and yet conservative enough for our friends.

“You look great,” I told her with warmth.

“You aren’t lying?” she asked, biting her blood red lower lip (I love red lipstick!). “You’re not being nice?”

I came to hug her. “I am being nice, but you look nice in any case.” We hugged firmly, but not so much that her look would be smushed.

“My hair looks OK?” she asked. I nodded, finally liking her hair again now that it had grown out. I wanted to forget the entire “Pixie Cut” episode, as we referred to it. I especially liked the sexy modern flip, and told her so.

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“Hello, Clem speaking. How can I help you?” I said. I wasn’t quite paying attention yet, which was about to change.

“Clem? You sound so business-like,” the female voice chuckled. “Do you know who this is?”

I did, kinda, but not really. I looked at the phone, the caller ID telling me it was a number in my area code. Only one woman in my area had such a sexy voice. “Sure, this is Shannon,” I answered.

“Did you guess?” she laughed. That made me laugh as well.

“Well, maybe an educated guess,” I smiled. “So, how are you?” We exchanged pleasantries for a while, talking about what was going on in our lives. I got the impression that she was stalling a little bit. Finally, I asked her what was up.

“Well, I wanted to tell you about a little research I’ve been doing.”

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“I am too,” he said, moving past me to hug my wife Perra.

That left me free to welcome Caren, who was still outside, smiling brightly at me. “Merry Christmas,” I said, reaching for her.

“Merry Christmas, Clllleeeemmmmm,” she said, in that sing-song-y voice of hers. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. I was instantly intoxicated by her perfume, but I was even headier being in an embrace with her.

I consider Caren to be one of the sexiest women I know. She isn’t a young hottie, her body is nice for her 35 years but not ultra-fit, and her face shows laugh lines. I lusted mightily for her because of her wit and intelligence. She was playfully sexy, and we had a huge erotic tension thing going on between us that we both delighted in playing to the hilt.

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I blame myself. I invited my co-workers, and the only ones without plans were the 20-somethings. When they asked if they could bring dates, I told them it was OK. Well, someone blabbed about the party, and soon I found people I didn’t know grabbing beers from the ice barrel.

At first, I thought it was a co-worker’s date that I didn’t know, but the party got increasingly crowded. I found Perra and asked what I should do; order the crashers out or roll with it. She told me to relax, and to have fun for once. So I did.

We had sent our kids to a friend’s for the night, which removed my biggest problem with a noisy party: keeping the children awake. It also gave me a chance to hook up the Xbox I had bought my son for Christmas (hey, I had to make sure it worked, right?). I spent the time before the party ripping my son’s favorite songs and Christmas tunes to the hard disk, and then I had rented DOA3 and Halo to play at the party. When the youngsters arrived, the 5.1 surround system was cranked up while the game was played. It was loud, and it was a blast.

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“What’s up?” I asked.

“What’re you doing?” Perra inanely asked. She knew I was in meetings today.

“I’m about to pack up and head home,” I told her.

“Could I convince you to stop by Caren and Mitch’s on the way?” she inquired.

“On the way?” I responded, incredulous. “They’re at least an hour there and an hour and a half back. I’ll miss my plane!”

“Doesn’t Southwest fl y every half-hour?” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but…”

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It all came about because my son’s soccer club elected to send teams to the NEYSO Alamo Classic. This is an annual tournament, held in San Antonio over Thanksgiving Weekend. We weren’t sure what to expect, beyond being annoyed that we couldn’t spend Thanksgiving at home doing the traditional meal because our first match was early on Friday.

We decided to celebrate Thanksgiving on Wednesday, the day before the official holiday. It was kind of pleasant, skipping work to put up Christmas lights and gorge myself on turkey. We watched the Macy’s parade on Thursday (Katie Couric is a BABE!) and then headed off down I-10. We brought our new dog with us, having selected a pet-friendly motel.

As it happened, my mother-in-law flew to San Antonio to watch the tourney too. We checked into our motel and then went off to collect her. Originally, my parents were going to come, but when my mom had medication problems, Anne stepped in to attend in their place.

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“I want you to dress up like a cheerleader for the Halloween party while I dress up like a horny teacher,” she explained again. I could feel how wet she was, and as if to show it, she slid off me and jacked me a few times, using her juices as lube. Then she slid back onto me and let me lick her fingers. They were coated with her juices and my precum.

“I don’t think so,” I said. I don’t think she bought my protest, coming as a moan like it did. She stopped and just squeezed me, making me groan with each pulse of her Kegel-enhanced pussy.

“Yes you do,” she said, taking charge now and kissing me. “Just like you want me to let you cum in me and then make you suck it out.”

“No, no, no,” I said, even while we both knew I was lying. I loved being forced to do it. It was a game we played.

“Yes,” she paused, “you do. You want to have me stick my dripping pussy on your mouth and let you clean it.”

“No…”

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“Sorry there’s no food in the fridge.

“Dominoes is speed dial 1. Ask for Scott.

“Love ya,

“Bobbie”

The note was typical of the way Bobbie breezed through life. Somehow, she managed to not care very deeply about anything, and had all the more fun because of it.

I looked around Bobbie’s apartment, which doubled as her studio. She was making a good living, but nothing visible reflected it, except maybe the stereo. That didn’t count, because I knew one of her boyfriends had given it to her.

I was housesitting for Bobbie. As was typical for her, she had won a four day trip to Las Vegas, and had taken off with a girlfriend. In a rare moment of Serendipity, I had just sold my interest in a commercial property and had decided to take off a week. Thus, I offered to watch her house, just to be out of range of my pager.

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“God, I want to fuck you,” I moaned. “I want to stick my dick right here–” driving my tongue in and out before continuing–”and fuck you.”

“Shhhhhh,” she said. Sometimes she likes hot talk, but I guessed she did not this night.

I put my tongue to better use, sliding between her lips and over her clit. I gently coaxed her clit out, suckling as required. I felt a hot rush of juices, and used both hands to pry her open and suck the juices out. She gasped with pleasure. She was ready for me.

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“And where would you go Bobbie?” Clem sneered. “It’s a long way from Ramstein to Dubuque.”

Clem always held that over me. I had moved to be with him almost a year ago, and when I was safely trapped in Germany he became more demanding. He had completely changed our relationship, and tried continually to assert his dominance. He thought me stuck. He thought wrong.

“Jeff said I could stay with him,” I spat at him. I was furious, but my mood brightened considerably when I saw that his haughty attitude disappeared.

“Jeff? My buddy from the depot?” Clem seemed confused. The balance had shifted and he was now struggling. I continued packing my things. “C’mon baby,” he said, cajoling me now that I was in the stronger position.

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He also wanted desperately to be with Lori. Theirs was a strange situation, not only because they had not been together yet. That was strange enough in today’s society. But even stranger was the fact that neither of them were virgins!

Clem had plenty of experience before “regaining his virginity” by taking a vow of celibacy until he was married. He had taken the vow 6 months before meeting Lori, and most of the women he had dated didn’t understand. They thought he was uninterested, when in fact he was just trying to regain some sexual purity.

He met Lori in a support group called Virginal Again. She too had been having difficulty, and they had hit it off straight away. Soon they were dating, and less than 3 months later he was sure he wanted to spend his live with her, and he proposed marriage.

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He gripped my hair, pulling me up so he could whisper in my ear. “Do you like it bitch?” he snarled lovingly. He liked to use foul language when we were together, and I think it enhanced the taboo for him. I trembled, feeling his hot breath on my face.

“Oh yeah, fuck me with that big black dick of yours,” I panted. He loved me to play the race card as well, to be the weak white boy that the powerful black man was giving such pleasure to. “You fuck so damn well; give it to me.”

“How do you want it, slut?” he said, his words full of a venom I knew he didn’t really feel.

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When the project was over, I had indefinite loan of the cameras. Being a constantly horny bastard, I of course wanted to film my wife and me having sex. I installed two of the cameras in our bedroom while Simone was out shopping, in an upper corner of the room where the cobwebs made it obvious that Simone never looked there. They were aimed at the bed, and I couldn’t wait to get it on!

The next day, I viewed the cameras over the internet to make sure they worked. These X10 cameras work great with our computer, since I have an always-on cablemodem connection. I could turn them on and off, see what they had recorded, etc.

I called home and asked Simone if she felt like a nooner. She hesitated, explaining that the lawn guys were out working. I chuckled and said we’d pull the blinds on our second-story bedroom if she were that nervous. She agreed, and I clicked on the cameras to record-mode and drove home.

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Damn, I was horny.

Clem was a new lover, brand new. I loved that. I loved the anxious moments when we both got naked and eyed each other. I loved stripping off my clothes in front of a new man, seeing his eyes devour my flesh. I loved watching his eyes as they roamed my body, judging me. I loved trying to guess what he was thinking, although I knew damn well he was thinking about how he could use me. I loved that.

I loved seeing his body, knowing he would be anxious. Clem obviously was concerned with his cocksize, as all men seemed to be. Even the largest man worried that I would reject him based on his penis. They never seemed to realize that I could appreciate all cocks. Large cocks pressed inside me, filled me, rubbed my special places. I loved that. But smaller cocks were equally wonderful. They seemed more agile. It was easier to take them into my throat. It was easier and more pleasurable to find a moderate cock in my ass. Men with cocks like Clem had a special place in my sex life. Clem would be more oral, I knew, more attentive, more attuned to my pleasure in order to compensate for his underwhelming size. Yes, men with smaller cocks were usually better overall lovers.

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She was the beautiful sight.

Jenny had the long lean lines of a dancer, which she was. But she also had the growing breasts of a twentysomething woman, fully mature. So I was caught between being amazed by her graceful movements, even in hip-deep water, and being amazed at how totally sexy she was.

We frolicked in the lake, dipping often to find the warmth of the water when the cold night air chilled us. Jenny was becoming cold, which confused the issue as to why her nipples were so hard: was it arousal (I hoped) or mere evaporation? She eventuated to playing a crocodile, her eyes and nose the only parts of her above water. Her long hair floated up as she moved, to become a floating web of silk on the surface.

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Lina wanted to come clean with him, which meant telling him that she and I were having a torrid affair. She assured me that this would be the best gift she could give him, but I thought it was an invitation to disaster. Canadians are not a violent bunch as a rule, but she and I had made him a cuckolded fool; if I were him, I’d have pulled out my Smith and Wesson and ended the affair with two well-placed bullets. I was a bit nervous and pretty sure no good would come of confessing.

Lina wanted to go farther, and thus I was approaching their door on his birthday at 9pm. She had called me an hour ago to confirm that all was OK, and to come on. Even so, I almost fled rather than ring the doorbell.

Lina answered the door looking more spectacular than I had ever seen her. Of course, she was normally pretty, but she was dressed to kill tonight. She was the very picture of a dominatrix, from her four inch steel stiletto heels to her blood red lips and slicked back coif. In between, she wore thigh-high stretch knickers, a maid’s skirt and apron (no blouse), and a studded choker.

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“Tell me about it,” he said, running his tongue deeply between my sorely stretched lips. It felt marvelous, of course. Clem knows how to use that tongue of his.

“Well, he was in the Penthouse Suite at the Adams Mark, just like he said he would be. His suit was gorgeous.”

“Was he handsome?” Clem asked.

“Hmmmm, not my type, but yeah, he was.”

“OK, go on,” he instructed me.

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“What if I get claustrophobic?” I asked.

“Honey, you know I won’t make you suffer,” she smiled. Then she looked at me with those big brown eyes of hers, and shook her head in that irritatingly sexy way that made her hair sway and I just melted.

“OK,” I sighed.

“Oh goody!” she said, gleefully clapping her hands. “I’ll go get the stuff,” and with that she hopped off the couch.

I watched her go, her sexy caboose shaking as she trotted prettily. I decided I was going to be a totally good sport about this. It was her fantasy and if I was going to go through with it I was going to try to make it sexy for her. At least she hadn’t asked me to eat my cum from her pussy again.

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We met the dude online, goin’ through the Yahoo personals. Jezzie and I like to have a little fun, ya know? We ain’t too hung up on having fun with other people, and I think it spices up our love life. I love fucking other wimmen, and Jezzie likes a little fresh meat too. Sometimes, I get off watching her with the babe, especially after I just got done fucking her brains out. But, I digress. We were having a party for some “close personal friends,” and I was looking for a little entertainment. Ya know?

I come across this dude, looking to meet couples. Not just wimmen, but Couples! So I think this could be fun, assuming the dude ain’t one of those internet liars who are all show and no go. I send him a message, asking what he has in mind. The freak writes back that he likes eating sperm from a woman who just got fucked! Don’t that beat all? I mean, its hot when Jezzie does it, but chicks are s’posed to be cum-guzzlers. Dudes are not supposed to do that (in my opinion).

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“Maybe,” he thought hopefully as he got out of his car, “Marlene will be up for a nooner.”

He found the front door unlocked, which wasn’t all that surprising. Marlene was always dashing to the neighbors to have coffee and gossip. It was slightly more surprising that his dog didn’t run in like Dino to yap and wag his tail. Maybe he was in the back yard. But what was truly shocking was to go into the kitchen and find Marlene crouching down and her face between the legs of Anne, the neighbor in the cul-de-sac. Anne was sitting on the counter, her skirt pulled up while Marlene was eating her.

“What the fuck!” he thundered. If he expected Marlene to go on the defensive, he was wrong.

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