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Sex machine
The machine was built for pleasure. Independent of external forces, it rocked and rolled, ebbed and flowed on cushioning foam and silent springs. Touching parts were exquisitely oiled so they moved freely, yet still maintained sufficient contact. A delicious necessary friction. The machine was tireless, drew on an infinite primeval power source. It cycles were random, yet
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The Sister
I didn't know what time of night it was when my fingers slipped between my legs. It was so easy, I hardly felt a touch of guilt. My fingers and soft folds were like lovers sharing a secret. My pussy craved my touch and the sticky sounds of my masturbation echoed in the empty basement of a stranger's house. I reflected on my strange evening as I rubbed my clit. I had been invited over to
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He Belongs to Me Now
When I dream, I go places and do things, without all the humbug of daily life and without my physical limitations. The setting can be anything from a hot-tub, an igloo in Alaska, or a bungalow in Tahiti. I can have with me as many people as I want; however, it is usually me, a boyfriend, plus another person, man or woman. What I like best about it is the fact it offers me the kind of privacy
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