I definitely feel like one of the lucky guys that married someone that's actually considered physically attractive. We haven't been married for too long but our relationship is still going great and our sex life is pretty vanilla but it's not bad at all.

I go with her to her church that she grew up in and got to know alot of the people. Turns out, she doesn't have a lot of guy friends that she's close with. Apparently, it was hard for her to maintain friendship with guys cause they all end up confessing to her or that they were only interested in her. Before she met me, she had a reputation of being the hottest girl there that no one could get (note, shes still hot now). She dated only two guys prior but broke off early with both of them cause they were too desperate to get into her pants.

She lets record her while we're having sex so I can enjoy them later. But lately, I'm not sure if there's some sort of cuck kink that's been awakening inside of me, but I've been wanting to show people the body that so many dudes have wanted to get at.

I can't help but notice guys still catch glimpses of her ass when she's walking by or standing around. I catch myself thinking, what if I showed those guys her ass, tits, and pussy just all bare to see? It's like I want to see the pedestal that she was raised to be unconqueror-able brought down to being an exposed slut and jacked off to.

She tells me things that sometimes happen during the day when she's working and her male coworker that she doesnt like would try to flirt with her and while I act upset, it kinda turns me on. I wanna show her nudes to the guy and have him be shown something she would never show him.

She's a substitute teacher for the senior high schoolers and she's known as the hottest teacher there by everyone unanimously. But it almost takes me back to my school days of what would I do if I found my hot teacher's nudes and how fast that would spread to all the boys group chats. The thought of her going from a figure of attraction to an object of lust and pent up release just turns me on.

I'm not dumb enough to expose her and ruin our lives, but it's definitely a fantasy that I still get turned on about whenever I think about it.

That's the end of my confession

ROUND THREE / UNEXPECTED DAY THREE

Continuation of my Minnesota adventure: May 2024 [another very long post]

To recap:
I was visiting T, my 52-year-old long-time red-haired FWB, for the first time since October 2021. In the interim, she’d had major female surgery, put on some unwanted weight due to the anti-depressant meds she’d been taking (although she still looked amazing to me), and dumped a 20-y/o lover because “he came too fast, didn’t have a decent job, and couldn’t eat pussy to save his life.” I’d made the drive from Denver to her small town, located a couple of hours southwest of the Twin Cities, with the intent of doing what we always did. That involved catching up on news since the last time we were together, taking in concerts, museums and other attractions while spending the weekend in the Twin Cities, and having sex – lots and lots of sex.

I woke up around 7:30 Tuesday morning, following another three-hour fuck session that had wrapped up around two a.m. Because T babysits her two-year-old grandson every weekday afternoon, I had only planned to sleep over for two nights and then come back for her on Friday. She was dead asleep alongside me, with the covers pulled up over her head, so I left her alone and got dressed in the living room. Her car, a Ford Focus, had been running on fumes the previous evening, so I filled it up at the nearest gas station and then stopped off at a drive-thru for a bagel. Culinary note: I asked for the bagel to be toasted, with cream cheese on the side. Who the fuck toasts a bagel without slicing it first??? Sheesh.

Anyway, I returned to her place and was having my breakfast when T came out of the bedroom and plopped down beside me. I noticed she’d put on yoga pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt, which clearly indicated she was officially "not in the mood." She is NOT a morning person, and that includes morning sex. I offered her half my bagel, which she declined. She’s also not a breakfast person. “Are you sure you want to leave today?” T asked. “I thought we settled that on Sunday,” I replied. “I’ll be back Friday afternoon and we’ll spend the weekend in St. Paul.” She gave me one of those inscrutable looks that leave guys like me clueless. “Well, Donna is coming over for dinner. We do this every few weeks and, besides, she wants to meet you.”

Donna was one of T’s former coworkers, a tall Nordic blonde who’d succumbed to T’s bisexual charms during a blizzard in February and was apparently still infatuated with my red-haired Viking princess. “You can leave if you want,” T teased, “but you’ll miss out on a fun dinner.” Something told me that dinner wasn’t the only thing I’d miss by heading north, so I agreed to delay my drive by a day. Hey – I may be clueless when it comes to women, but I like to think I’m not an idiot!

We spent most of the day pretty much the same as on Monday, watching TV, reading, and having light-hearted conversation. After homemade bean burritos for lunch, I agreed to help her sort through her massive clothes collection that took up most of a second bedroom. It was a claustrophobic environment dominated by two huge dressers her grandparents had left to her. Piles of clothes occupied every flat surface, but the drawers were nearly empty. Our task was to divide the wardrobe up into Donate and Keep. I suggested the latter category was likely to include “fits me now” and “I hope it’ll fit again someday.” That remark earned me a not-so-playful punch on my arm, followed immediately by an offer to “kiss and make it better.”

For about two hours, I pulled out articles of clothing as T passed judgment on each item’s future. It was really humid, even with the a/c running, so she'd changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had been cut down into shorts. Occasionally she felt compelled to try things on to see if they fit – some did, but many did not – which meant she was regularly showing me her tits while putting on blouses, and turning around to show off her lovely ass with each skirt or pair of pants we came across. There was hardly any floor space, so we were constantly bumping into each other. T was also being very tactile – stroking my arm, smacking me on the ass when I didn’t move out of her way fast enough, and delivering a series of random kisses. Finally, I got up the courage to ask about her behavior.

“You know,” I began apprehensively, “I can’t help but notice how affectionate you are. It’s like the old T has returned.” During past visits, she’d regularly initiated public displays of affection, but I never felt comfortable asking about this behavior – mostly because I didn’t want it to stop. “Why now; why me?” She froze with her hand halfway reaching for a hanger and turned to face me. “You really want to know?” she asked quietly. “Always,” I said. “I used to behave like this a lot, because I’m an affectionate person, but my actions kept getting taken the wrong way. Nearly every guy I’ve been with assumed I was coming on to them sexually, as in, I wanted to fuck them right then and there. You, on the other hand, never give me that vibe, because I know you truly care about me as a person, not just some sex object.”

I must have had a weird look on my face while trying to process what she’d said, because she stepped over the huge pile of clothes still on the floor and bumped up against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a seriously hard kiss on my mouth. The phrase, “You know I adore you,” escaped my lips before I could even think about what I was saying. In return, T took half a step back and countered with, “Well, if you must know, I really DO want to fuck you, but that’ll have to wait because it’s almost time for me to go be with my grandson.” With that she giggled, pushed past me to climb out of the room, and called back in my direction as she was putting on her sneakers, “I’m watching him over at their place, because I don’t want to inflict him on you two days in a row. I’ll be back around 4:30.” And with that, she departed.

At 5:00 there was a knock on the door, so I hopped off the couch and went to answer it. T had previously texted me to say she wouldn’t be home until six o’clock but offered no further details. I opened up to greet a tall, slender woman with close-cropped blonde hair and a narrow face, carrying a grocery bag in each hand. I said, “You must be Donna,” at the same moment she said, “You must be Zac,” and we both laughed. I grabbed the bags out of her hands and took them straight to the kitchen. Since T lives in a double-wide trailer (err, “manufactured”) home, the counter was a mere three steps away. I explained that T was running late, and Donna countered with, “Yeah, she called to tell me that while I was at the Hy-Vee (the local supermarket), so I should just get dinner ready without her.” I offered to act as a backup chef, so we both did food prep. The menu included cucumber salad with onion, sliced tomatoes drizzled with olive oil, beer cheese soup, a baguette of French bread, and strawberry ice cream for dessert.

As we worked, we chatted amiably. I was curious about T’s experiences while working alongside Donna, and she confirmed that the stories I’d heard about harassment were true. “She just seems to attract asshole guys,” Donna said with conviction. Then, as she realized what she’d said, added, “Well, not you, obviously.” I laughed and countered with, “The jury might still be out on that one,” but she was quick to disagree. “Oh, no. T says you’re the sweetest guy. She told me you filled up her tank yesterday.” I couldn’t resist the double entendre. “You mean her car’s gas tank, right?” Donna burst out laughing. “Yeah – that, too.”

But before we could delve into additional semi-smutty talk, T returned and gave Donna a big hug and kiss. “Did you rope Zac into helping you with dinner?” she asked. “He volunteered and did a great job cutting up the vegetables,” she replied. I’d suggested we do the salad Hungarian style, dressed with sour cream, vinegar, and a dash of paprika. Lacking a dining table, we took our plates and bowls to the living room – five steps from the kitchen (!!) – and ate at the coffee table. I parked myself on T’s leather recliner, while the ladies sat on the couch.

After dessert, I gathered up the dishes and offered to do clean-up, to which there were no objections! While I was washing, drying and putting things away, T dragged out her cannabis paraphernalia and the two of them were soon “dabbing away.” Donna asked if they should save some for me, but T put the kibosh on that. “He’s got too much of a tolerance for pot,” T explained. “We split a tube Sunday night, and he didn’t even get high. I don’t think it affected him at all.” I chimed in with, “Well, it made me horny.” T responded with a laugh. “Geez, Zac, you’re hornier than any guy I know, so it clearly wasn’t the pot talking.” Naturally, Donna had to come back with, “So, how horny was he?” There was some whispering that followed between the two of them, and I was too far away to hear the conversation, except for the part where Donna said out loud, “How many times?” and then followed with “Oh, my god.”

I wrapped up my KP duties and started back toward my seat when T piped up with a request. “Zac, honey – can you go pick up something for us to drink? We’re too wasted to drive.” I reminded her we still had that Smirnoff swill from the night before, but T said, “Oh, I poured that out. It wasn’t very good.” That was the understatement of the week! Donna suggested a bottle of wine so, after a brief discussion of white versus red, they agreed “red” was the best choice. I grabbed my car keys and left the two of them puffing away on the couch.

The same woman who’d helped us the previous evening was back behind the counter. “How was that Smirnoff?” she asked. “Looking for another bottle?” [That's the issue with small towns; everyone knows your business!] I told her it was the worst stuff I’d tasted since that shot of vodka I’d sampled in a Bratislava grocery store decades earlier. That got a laugh out of her, and we chatted for about ten minutes about our respective overseas adventures, until I suddenly remembered why I was there. Two minutes and $15 later, I was on my way back to T’s place with what was reportedly a halfway decent bottle of California Cabernet.

As I walked into her place, the lights were off and no one was up front. I set the bottle down and slowly felt my way forward. The bedroom door was closed, and the rest of the place was nearly pitch-black. Because of the harsh Minnesota winters and the lack of decent insulation in her place, T keeps all the windows blocked year-round, because “it’s too much trouble to always be redoing them.” It’s like a goddamned cave in there; you can’t tell whether it’s day or night without opening the door and looking outside. I had my hands outstretched to aid in moving ahead, but thankfully it’s a very narrow hallway with no obstacles. I put my ear to the bedroom door but couldn’t make out any sounds. I thought about calling out, but instead I retraced my steps to the living room, stripped down to just my boxer briefs, and returned to where I’d just been standing.

As quietly as I could, I twisted the door handle and pulled the bedroom door open. The first thing I noticed was a pile of women’s clothes lying on the floor. Peeking around the corner, I saw two naked women erotically positioned and illuminated by the dim bedside lamp at the far side of the room. T was lying on her back, her thighs spread wide and the fingers of her left hand making slow circles around her clit. Donna was sitting on T’s face, grinding away, while the palms of her hands were pressed flat against the bedroom wall, since T’s double bed has no headboard. Neither woman was being particularly vocal – Donna was breathing hard, but quietly, whereas whatever sounds T was making were being directed straight into Donna’s vagina. I took off my boxers and began to stroke my cock, which was quickly at attention.

I was being quiet, but Donna turned her head and caught me out of the corner of her eye as I was standing at the side of the bed with my cock in my hand. “Guess—who’s—back?” Donna managed to announce, in between gasps for air. T mumbled something that I couldn’t understand, but Donna was apparently skilled at interpreting mouth-to-pussy speech. “She wants you to go down on her,” Donna translated, so I wasted no time climbing onto the bed and hopping to it. I pushed T’s hand aside and wrapped my lips around her little button-clit. I sucked on it hard, which really sets her off, and then I shoved two fingers deep into her pussy.

Eighteen months earlier, when T had the first of two back-to-back vaginal surgeries, she was worried they would affect her “pleasure parts,” as she called them. But for the past two nights, I was a witness that she was as orgasmic as she’d ever been. Meanwhile, Donna was raking her crotch up and down T’s mouth, and I looked up just as T took the hand she’d been using on her clit and stuck her middle finger deep into Donna’s ass. “Well, that’s an interesting turn of events,” I thought to myself. T was not a fan of anal play on herself, although she occasionally enjoyed it when I moistened my index finger and rimmed her butthole while simultaneously circling her clit with my tongue. She calls it “the double roundabout.” This was the first time I’d seen her finger-fuck another woman in the ass, although she’s never been shy about pounding a girlfriend’s other hole with her fingers. It didn’t take long for me to get T bucking and moaning, and I stayed with it until she exploded into a thigh-quivering orgasm.

After lifting myself up to catch a breath, I decided not to continue with more cunnilingus but instead mounted T, shoving my cock into her ultra-moist pussy. She made a half-hearted effort to push me away, but my 225 pounds was no match for her 140, so I stayed put. With Donna’s firm ass staring me in the face – she hadn’t dismounted from T’s face, despite already having had at least one orgasm – I balanced precariously on top of T and used my hands to grip Donna’s buttocks and spread them apart. Seconds later, she had the experience of two tongues on her, with one at each hole.

T mumbled something, with Donna apparently understanding her query, because she replied, “He’s got his tongue in my ass.” I sure did! But while focusing my attention on the shapely tush in front of me, I’d stopped fucking T and simply left my cock motionless, albeit balls-deep in her pussy. She seemed miffed by this lack of attention, because she responded by wrapping her legs around my thighs and humping up against me, fighting to attain yet another orgasm. Donna came with a grunt and a shudder, moaned, “Ohhhh, gawd!” and rolled off T’s face to collapse on the far side of the bed. Unfortunately, her unexpected dismount caused her knee to smack against the side of my head, and I think I might have lost consciousness for a few seconds. When I regained my senses, I’d rolled off T, having ended up on the same side of the bed where Donna had landed.

“Are you OK?” Donna asked, with concern in her voice. “Did I hurt you?” I pressed my hand to the spot where her knee had made contact with my skull. “No blood, no foul, I guess,” was my flippant reply, which was enough to elicit a hearty laugh from both women. It seemed like a good time to take a break, so I slid down to lie across the bottom edge of the mattress and laid my head on my outstretched arm. T said, “I think we could all use a drink,” and for once, I agreed that was a good idea. She climbed off the bed and slipped quickly into the kitchen, where we could hear her cursing because she couldn’t immediately find a corkscrew. I was torn between remaining in the bedroom and watching Donna play with her clit, which she was doing absent-mindedly, and following T into the kitchen to lend a hand with the wine. With the cry, “Zac – come here. I need you,” the decision was made for me.

I found T leaning back against the sink, the wine bottle in one hand and a fairly elaborate corkscrew device in the other. “I think I’m too high to figure this out,” she admitted, so I relieved her of both items and managed to extract the cork without damaging my hand, or my male ego. T looked absolutely delicious, nude with her pale pink nipples at full attention, her flushed skin accentuating the freckles on her chest, her red triangle down below curly and enticing, and the tang of pussy juice in the air. We stood there, wordlessly, for a few seconds – each checking out the other person’s body – until she reached out and wrapped her hand around my semi-tumescent cock. Then, she uttered a sentence any red-blooded male would love to hear in that situation: “I want to watch you fuck Donna, and then I’ll clean you both up.”

She and I have performed this act before, but the last time was pre-COVID. Back in 2019, while spending a fuck-filled four-day weekend in a St. Paul Airbnb, she’d picked up a waitress at the neighborhood pastry shop. We’d gone there for breakfast two days in a row, where during each visit T got more and more flirty with the young woman behind the counter. On Day Three, after telling me to pay the bill and then scram, she somehow talked Simone into coming over to our place once her shift ended at noon. Awaiting her arrival, T told me Simone was only interested in girl-on-girl sex, which was OK with me. And true to her word, Simone showed up on time, stripped off her clothes, and dove into T’s pussy as if she hadn’t had sex in months – which turned out to be the case. I sat on the sidelines, stroking and watching, as they both worked each other into multiple orgasmic frenzies. Taking a break, T said to Simone, “I’m thinking about sucking Zac’s cock, because I love the taste of his cum, but I’d like it even better if it came dripping out of your pussy.” Simone seemed more than a bit skeptical, until T told her that I’d do her doggy-style so she didn’t have to see me fucking her, and that I’d do my best to ejaculate quickly. Given the stroke job I’d been doing on myself the previous 30 minutes, that last part wasn’t going to be a problem. Simone agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and I took her from behind – a deliciously tight 22-year-old pussy that needed only half a dozen pumps to get blasted. T fulfilled her part of the bargain and even managed to make Simone orgasm one last time as my man-jizz ended up all over T’s face and then down her throat.

On this evening, however, there was no reluctant acceptance on Donna’s part. I carried three full wine glasses into the bedroom, distributed them accordingly, and then T announced the next stage in our hours-long fuck-fest. As soon as T explained what she wanted us to do, Donna and I looked at each other and asked, nearly simultaneously, “How do you want me?” That got all three of us laughing, but T had her own idea. “Do her missionary, Zac, so the cum won’t leak out before I gobble it up.” Thankfully I wasn’t drinking from my wineglass at that moment, because I would have probably done a spit-take onto her lovely striped cotton sheets. Instead, I drained the last of the liquid and handed my glass to T, who set it down on the nightstand closest to the bedroom door. Then I dove forward to shove my face into Donna’s crotch.

I’d caught her by surprise, but she didn’t voice a single objection, instead sliding her butt forward so she could lie flat on the bed. I tongued her slit for a minute or two – she tasted really good – and then hopped up onto my knees and guided my dick into her pussy hole. Donna reached up and pushed against my shoulders. I thought she was doing that to get me off her, but she only wanted to create enough room to pull her knees up and press them against my chest. This was actually a very effective fucking position for me, because her legs acted as a sort of spring against which I could thrust and retract. She supplied at least half of the motion, and I was able to hang onto her knees for leverage instead of having to use my arms to bear the weight of my body.

We built up a good rhythm, with lots of heavy breathing on both our parts. Meanwhile, T was sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, finger-fucking herself with an in-and-out motion that matched my own pussy pounding. Just as T said to Donna, “Don’t be surprised, but he sometimes takes a while to come,” I froze on the downstroke as my cock pumped three or four streams of cum deep into Donna’s pussy. All she said was, “Done?” and when I could only nod my head, she used her legs to push me off her while holding her ass up off the bed. T swooped in and dove for the gusto, first licking up the drops of cum that had dripped off my cock as I withdrew, and then using her fingers to dig deep for the rest of the load.

I managed to stand up at the foot of the bed, knees sagging a bit against the edge of the mattress to maintain my balance. T was really slurping up what I’d left for her, and I jacked my dick a bit as I watched. Having completed her task on Donna, T spun around and licked me clean. “Fuck, that was fun!” she exclaimed, and then guzzled down the rest of the wine in her glass.

We’d easily passed the three-hour mark, and I was exhausted. The ladies climbed off the bed and headed to the bathroom, while I flopped down onto the mattress with the aim of slipping off to dreamland. T had other ideas, however. “Hey,” she called out, which awakened me from my near-slumber. “Donna’s staying over, so you’ll have to camp out on the couch.” I began to object, but my argument fell on deaf ears. “There’s just no room, Zac. Sorry. You’ll find an extra pillow and a blanket in the room where my clothes are.” I passed Donna on my way down the hall, pillow and blanket in hand. She’d stopped off in the kitchen for a glass of water and patted me on the ass while I was setting things up on the couch. I straightened up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, but she put her hand gently on the side of my face – coincidentally, the same side where she’d kneed me earlier – and gave me a deep kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning, OK?” she whispered. I thanked her for an amazingly fun time, which got a shy smile from her before she returned to the bedroom and closed the door.

I’m sure I fell asleep within minutes of stretching out on the couch. At six-foot-zero, I had just enough room to lie on my side (my preferred sleeping position) with my knees slightly bent. Even so, my head was pressed against one arm of the couch, and my feet rested up against the other one. Many hours later – I had no idea of the time, since the windows were blocked and my iPhone was in the other room – I was awakened by something stroking my lower leg. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I imagined it was my cat, Jemima, since she rubs up against me every morning as if to say, “Hey, human. It’s time for my breakfast.” So, when I opened my eyes to see Donna perched on the edge of the couch, as naked as she’d been the night before, I regained full consciousness damned quickly.
She put her finger to her lips and motioned for me to slide over. As skinny as she was, there was still hardly any room to accommodate her lying next to me, so she ended up mostly on top, one knee between my legs, her well-trimmed crotch pressed against my hip, her breasts against my chest, and her mouth a mere inch from mine. “I know T isn’t into morning sex,” Donna said in a very low voice, “but I hear you’re quite the fan, right?” I agreed and lifted my head up so I could give her a good-morning kiss. She slipped her tongue into my mouth while reaching down and wrapping her fingers around my rapidly rising cock. “Mmm, morning wood is the best wood, don’t you agree?” she teased. She squeezed me gently, and we continued to make out as she ground her pussy against my hip bone. Once she determined I was sufficiently erect, Donna threw her leg across my body and straddled me effortlessly. “You were on top last night, so now it’s my turn,” she said. Before I could object – not that it even occurred to me to do so – she had my cock all the way inside her pussy and was rocking back and forth on it with gusto. I reached up and tugged on her small nipples, which were like rock-hard cherries, and she worked her way into two very quick and enthusiastic orgasms.
Donna climbed off after her second orgasm but recognized I hadn’t had one. She teased me a bit with her tongue on the very tip of my cock, pushing my hands away as I tried (unsuccessfully) to engage her mouth more fully. “Be a good boy and put your hands behind your head,” she instructed, “or else I’ll leave you to take matters into your own hands.” At my age, I wasn’t sure how much cum I could muster, given the prodigious amount I’d pumped into her pussy just six or seven hours earlier, but any blow job was better than no blow job. [I think I read that saying needlepointed on a pillow, once.] Donna continued to tease my twitching cock, using only her tongue and resting her hands on either side of my body for balance. She must have toyed with me like this for 10 or 15 minutes before finally relenting and taking my dick all the way into her mouth. Her tongue action continued to be amazing as she bobbed her head up and down only slightly. Still, it was enough of a turn-on for me that I managed to ooze out a bit of cum as I orgasmed. Donna gave me a pretty smile, climbed off the couch, and said she was heading to the shower. “You could probably use one, too,” she insisted, so I joined her under a thin stream of warm water and soaped up her body as she returned the favor. We didn’t get into anything more sexual, but I truly enjoyed the mutual contact.

T climbed out of her bedroom about an hour later, already dressed for the day in a t-shirt and yoga pants. Donna and I were sitting on the couch, a respectable distance away from each other, as we watched a local TV news show. T greeted each of us with a kiss and then went into the kitchen to brew herself a cup of tea. Upon her return, she squeezed in between us and stretched out her legs so her feet rested on the coffee table. Looking at each of us in turn, she asked, “So, did you two have a nice morning fuck?” Before either of us could answer, though, she leaned over and kissed Donna on the mouth. “Thanks for taking one for the team,” she giggled. “You know I’m not into pre-noon dick.” I shot back, “I guess I'll set my alarm for 12:05 then.” T stuck out her tongue at me and said, “You’re leaving for St. Paul as soon as you get packed, and Donna will help me with my clothing once you leave.”

After that comeback, I had nothing more to say, so I placed my pjs and my shaving kit into my suitcase and headed for the door. T forestalled me as I passed through the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me in a sensuous hug. “I’ll see you on Friday, lover,” she breathed into my ear, and moments later I was in my car. My final, fleeting thought as I drove down Broadway toward the highway was, “Well, I think my tongue AND my cock can use the three-day break.”

I got divorced almost three years ago. I am a female, in my late 30s, and I have been married for 15 years, so I married young.

He was my first, if you dont count a few innocent hs pettings, and our sex life was pretty non existent, for the last few years of marriage. I have relived myself, many times, and eventually got sucked into the world of erotic forums, porn sites etc.

After we split up, my libido just jumped through the roof, and my online addiction sky rocketed. I wanted sex so badly, I have caught myself having these indecent thoughts about men around me, at work, at the supermarket etc.

Why didnt I do anything?

I am affraid. I have had sex with only one man in my life, and I guess I was insecure, so I stayed locked inside this cage I have built for myself.

Through all this, I started chatting with this man, some ten years younger than me, via this erotic forum. It became a form of hotting, with words at starters. Then I sent him some photos of me, without face and clothed, he sent me his, and he is a handsome, handsome man, so handsome, that I have wondered what such a good looking man is doing sexting a woman like me.

It evolved, i sent him some bikini photos, than partial nudes, and full nudes at the end, and eventually we saw each other on cam.

It was so sexy. He was raining down on me with compliments, throughout all of this, how beautifull I am, how hot I am, and such things are nice to hear. LIttle digression - I know I look good, and my looks werent the obstacle for me to find someone to have sex with - it was the other issues, I discussed earlier.

So we continued with this for more than 6 months, and it was hot, so intense. He was so good at describing things, it was like living through an audio version of the best erotic story ever written. Him, talking, made me climax every time, but looking at him through the camera didnt hurt either.

And he was obsessed with my behind, always asking for me to show it, and if I did, he would climax almost immediately. He would always tell me how he wants me from behind, or in a reverse cowgirl etc, and it got me appreciating that part of my body, and I did become aware that it does look good for a woman of my shape and size.

Long story short, after almost half of year of this, one day he sends me a message that he is coming to my country on business (we both live in Europe - different countries), and that he will be in such and such hotel, room number ..., and gives me his telephone number, for me to call him, so we could go out for dinner and, who knows.

I decided not to go, not to call him, it was all fun, but one thing is a fantasy through the weil of some anonymity, and this would be something completely different.

I was fighting myself on this one, I wanted to go, but I was scared, really scared that I will ruin it, by meeting him. You have got to understand, this was a kind of a relationship for me, something I was looking forward, seeing him online.

He was staying there for three nights. On the second night, I called him at 1 a.m. My voice was... I was scared. Asked him if I can come over to his room.

An hour later, I was there, in leather pants (god, what was I thinking), and a bottle of wine. We started going at each other immediately, we were both so desperate. He ripped my blouse off of me, and went for my breast right away. I was on fire, ready to go, like I have had hours of fore play.

And as we started to undress, I remembered his fixation, so as he was laying on his back, I got on top of him, kissed him, then turned the other way. I have never had sex in this position, so I was a bit scared, but ready to go. He had a condom on... And he came after no more than 20 seconds.

My dissapointment was inmesurable. He did try to get me off, afterwards, but wasnt good at it, so I faked it. I excused myself, and lied to him that I will see him again tomorrow, and told him it was good, it was all I was hoping for.

Never saw him again, not in real life, nor online. But this awkward experience was an eye opener of sorts. What was I affraid of?

Two weeks later, I met a man of my age, also divorced, like me, and I am having the best sex of my life.

I think this whole experience helped me understand a few things about myself. And one thing is for sure, I lost years of my life, living of sexual scraps, from my husband, later on, from online erotica, but nothing beats the real thing, when it is done right.

First time writter, long time lurker.

Last summer, I went to Rhodes with my sister. First time away on holiday without my family. It came to that, because the chance to go just came up, my husband could not go, due to work, so, I was really looking forward to it.

We were staying in this hotel close to the beach, and to the city, and city is amazing, first few nights we stayed really late, and, all in all, I felt like in heaven.

Due to our late stays, my sister would sleep late, and when at the seaside, I cant do that, so every morning, I went to the beach, near by. It had this secluded part, behind this rock formation, where I could tan, without crowd around me.

To be honest, I wanted to be topless, and tan equally, but I do not have a very positive view of my own body.

I am 40, married for over 15 years, still slim, but my breasts are not what they used to be, gravity is winning that battle, and there is body fat on my waist and thighs, so I am not happy when I look in the mirror, and I just do not feel confident to be seen topless - it is not about being shy, because I never was.

On the 2nd day, I realised that this secluded part of the beach was used as a wild nude beach, because two older couples came by, and got but naked. After seeing their bodies, I realised that I have got nothing to be ashamed of, and it felt comforting and nice.

Next day, this young boy came too, and positioned himself suspiciously close to me. I never took my bottom off, but I felt his attention towards me, even though there were few other people there as well. I tried not to look at his direction, by throwing just a few glimpses. He was turned my way, with a full on erection, that he wanted to act casual about. Then I noticed how young he is, 20, tops. I felt a chizzle down my spine.

I am not gonna lie, having the attention of a good looking, younger man, made wonders for my self esteem. Consciously or not (I told myself I just wanna tan), the next day, I was wearing a tongue. He was there again, only him, and a couple in their 60s on the other side of this little beach. He sat closer this time, and I felt a bit cheeky, so I tried to pose in a provocative way. My glimpses caught his erection, but this time, he was fiddling with it - adjusting it, dusting off sand etc.

I have no idea where I got the courage, but I turned on the side, facing him and just smiled at him, and got on my back.

I knew he was playing with himself, before I saw it, I just felt it. I could hear his breath getting heavy. Curiousity got the better of me, so once again I turned towards him, and looked down. He stopped, suddenly, twiched, because he probably got scared of my reaction. It was big, fully erect, and I was already horny as hell, so I said nothing, he smiled, I smiled back, and he continued. He was done within a minute. I saw he felt ashamed of himself afterwards, quickly gathered his things, and went off.

I thought I will never see him again, it just felt that way, and I was content. It was a peculiar feeling, I have had my summer "adventure", without doing anything stupid.

But, tomorrow, he was there, even close this time, practicaly besides me. But, the beach was packed, and the day after that, so we talked. Of course, I was the one to initiate the conversation, cause I have realised that he was a bit intimidated by my age. Nice boy, bad english, but I was still impressed for how long he could keep his erection, just by being besides me. I guess that is youth.

I was tempted to "think" about this ordeal, when I go back to our room, since all of it, the sun, the sexual tension, the suspense, made me pretty restless, but there never was a chance for it, and I, myself, am a bit complicated, when it comes to masturbation. I need piece, a certain mood, and it just wasnt there.

The following day, we were all alone. He was there before me. I chose to position myself right next to him, as my heart was pounding. I didnt wanna cheat on my hubby, I just enjoyed the rush of him being around me.

Since we were alone, he felt braver, and started touching himself, while talking to me. It was surreal. The first time, there was a 10m gap between us, but now, he was at a hands reach. And I reached. Hand job never hurt anyone, I thought. He started playing with my breasts, and I guess he felt I was a bit reluctant.

"Your boobs are pretty"

My weakest point. I dont know if he was smooth about it, or it was just me being arroused, but the next thing you know, I was on him, with my breast squised around his hard penis, going up and down.

And as I felt he was about to climax, it just dawned on me what I was doing. I got up, like something bit me, and just got back on my towel, and turned the other way. I am not gonna do it, my husband doesnt deserve this, what a hell am I doing.

I should have just left, but I am not sure that subconsciously, I wanted to. Sure enough, he was behind me, pressing himself on my bottom, I felt him. He moved my bottom to the side, and just went in, in this, spooning position.

It only took few strokes for him, fast and hard strokes, but still, after just a few, he got out, and finished on my ass. I got on my stomach, as he was rubbing it in on my ass and thighs, like a lotion. I wanted his fingers to go down there, I wanted mine to go down there...

But they didnt. He just got besides me, and started talking in his crooked English.

I didnt get the satisfaction that day, nor for the next few days. He was there, but the place was crowded, so we just talked.

Guilt got the better of me, after I came back home, and I felt really bad for doing all that, so I have supressed it, until now.

As a dedicated erotic story reader, I never imagined I will have the guts to confess mine.

I confess that I just got a 30 year old Vietnamese woman to get completely naked for me on cam. Met her on an adult chat board the other night where she started asking me questions on how she could convince her boyfriend to let her have a threesome. She told me she's in Vietnam, he in New York. She's supposed to fly there to see him for the holidays and wants to have a threesome with him and another guy while she's there. We've been talking about this for the last two days. About an hour ago she was simul-texting me and her boyfriend at the same time and he apparently got fed up with her asking him about the threesome and signed off for the night. She texted me he'd left and wanted to know how she could convince him. I said "Maybe he's afraid you're to good looking and whoever you bring in won't just let it rest as a one and done. Let me see what you look like".
Her response "Do you want to see all of me?"
"Nude you mean," I asked.
"Yes" she responded.
"Sure, if you want." She sent me a request for a video chat and there she was, sitting with her shirt open and these two beautiful little breasts that had the brightest pink nipples you've ever seen staring back at me. She didn't show her face and kept nervously closing then reopening her shirt.
"Take it off." I said. She hesitated for a second then slipped it off her shoulders.
"Do you like?" She asked in her stilted accented English.
"Very much" I responded. "Are you going to take those panties off and let me see all of you"
Her hands hovered over her waistband. She moved them away, covered her chest with one arm, sat in silence for a minute or so, then finally laid on her back and slipped them off. She then turned on her side so I could see all of her. 
"Let me see between your legs" I ordered. She brought her legs up to cover her crotch, then stretched them out again, then finally brought herself up to her knees, spreading her legs just far enough for me to catch a glimpse of her mound. 
She leaned forward towards the camera and said "I going to hang up now" and that was it. Show over. I texted her how it felt getting naked for a complete stranger and she responded that she felt nervous but excited at the same time.
I asked if she was turned on any. She said she was. 
I said I would really have liked to watch you touch yourself. She responded "maybe next time" and then told me she had to get off as she had to go back to work.
Before she signed off I asked her her if she was going to tell her boyfriend about this and she responded that he didn't need to know.  She ended the conversation with "Talk to you later (sly smiley face)" which I interpret as more interesting things to come in the future.

Jamilla’s crucifixion

Jamilla was already awake when the sunlight entered her cell. After the Romans had captured her a week ago at the villa of her master, they had locked her up in there. They had stripped her and tied her up tightly, her hands behind her back, she was forced to sit here in this dark cell. She have had a lot of time to think about what has happened, and, more important, the things to come. At first she had been scared to death by the thought of being crucified, but right now she had found peace with it. Jamilla knew what she had done, and she also knew that she deserved nothing better. There was no doubt that, if she was to be killed, it would happen out there for every one to see. She was just to beautiful to let her die in here. After all she was the most beautiful girl in and around the city, In fact the thought of starving in here scared her even more than a public humiliation. Being tied up all the time and at least raped and tortured, imagine taht! No, no, all well considered, crucifixion was the best she could hope for. At least her pain would be over in a few days instead of years. She didn’t dare to think that the soldiers wouldn’t come for her.

But then the door opened and a couple of men gave entered her cell and removed the ropes from her hands and feet. Jamilla felt some sort of relief when she left the cell. They would not let her starve. Thus far she had been very lucky. It was only now that she realized that nobody had abused her until now. She wasn’t raped, she hadn’t been whipped. The fact of being nude don’t scare her, as a slave girl she has experienced this form of humilation many times, it was usual for the female to walk nude trough the city up tot he crucifixion side, while the men are allowed to wear a loincloth.

As they came out of the dark hallways into the inner yard of the camp, Jamilla spotted a long, thin, wooden cross lying on the ground. “Pick it up!” one of the soldiers said. Jamilla walked towards the cross and lifted it on her shoulder. There was no use in trying to resist, which would only make it worse for her. Two soldiers came standing next to her and one of them hung a wooden plate around her neck with her name, her age and her crime carved in it. Jamilla expected them to push her forward in to the streets of the city, but they didn’t. Both of the soldiers were looking at a little door behind them. As Jamilla looked at it as well, she saw an other soldier coming out with a hammer, a ladder and a basket with nails. Long heavy spikes…

“So it ’s going to be a full nailing” Jamilla said to herself. Until now she had hoped that they would only use ropes or at least only nail her hands, but as she could count more than two nails, she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. The soldier loaded the gear on a donkey and the other two gave Jamilla a gentile push on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” They said and the campgates opened.

Jamilla carried her cross through the narrow streets of the city. It wasn’t very heavy but despite the early hour the sun was already shining hot. As she came closer to the crucifixion site, more and more people were watching and following her, yelling things at her. She noted the views of the men, on her slim body, her well-shaped breasts, with the long nipples. Her master has pierced them years ago, she has to wear rings there, and the nipples has grown considerably. Except her long hair, her body has been shaved completely, even if the pubic hair has started to grow back, her crotch is visible for everyone.

“Look at you, you stupid basterds,” Jamilla said to herself “ shouldn’t you be working? No you just want to see me suffer, you want to hear me scream on the cross, you want to see the extreme fear in my eyes when they nail me to it. Well screw you! You think I’m afraid but I’m not, you think I’ll beg them for mercy, beg them not to nail my feet, but you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I won’t. In fact I’ll show you that it doesn’t scare me, I’ll show you how a proud girl faces her destiny!”

As she took the last turn to the marketplace, Jamilla felt this strange sensation in her underbelly. She knew she was walking her last few steps ever. On the market place, one of the soldiers gave the order to stop right in the middle of the square. She let her cross slip to the ground, took a few steps back and looked at the people that came to see her humiliation. One soldier held a hand on her shoulder and took back the wooden plate as the other one unpacked the gear. The third one began to declare her verdict and why she deserved it. During that time Jamilla realized that the strange feeling in her underbelly wasn’t fear as she thought it was, but pleasure. Her crotch has become wet, she noticed it. Every single person on the square wanted to see her young, nude body exposed on the cross. She knew she turned on every man that came to see her today, but none of them would ever have her. She would remain an unreachable ideal forever. She knew she could give them a spectacle they would never forget, that would make every other women look like durt.

Right now Jamilla realized that her time had come. The third soldier reached the end of his speech.

Jamilla knew what she had to do, she would show the crowd she was not afraid. Slowly she walked towards the cross, looking at the soldiers. Then she turned around, looked at he crowd and went lying down on her cross. Before one of the soldiers could grab her, she placed both of her wrists on the crossbeam, waiting for the nails.

The soldier that was going to nail her held back his two accompagnons. “No, no, don’t grab her. I want to see if she really can take this.” Jamilla looked at him as he put the first heavy spike right on top of her wrist. There was no one holding her wrists in place, yet she did not pulled them away, when the soldier raised his hammer for the first blow. Jamilla looked closely as the point of the first nail was driven into her wrist. “Aagh!” The pain was more than unbearable, it didn’t just stay in her wrist. Like water spilled on a flat stone, the pain started to run in various directions, all through her body. Yet the nail had only cut a few muscles and flesh. Right now he was only pushing on her wristbones, slightly driving them apart. As much as Jamilla was suffering, she couldn’t move her arms. She could only watch how the hammer came down a second time. This time the nail crushed her wristbones. Jamilla could feel the couldnes of the steel against her bones. Again she could not hold back a short scream. The pain had now turned into a supernatural form of agony. One of the soldiers who was standing next to the cross, noticed how Jamilla was rubbing her beautiful bare feet over the sand in a useless attempt to lighten the pain. Although the nail hadn’t reached the beam yet, she managed to keep her tortured wrist in place. Her most beautiful body was already covered with sweat when the hammer came down for the third time. Finally the nail came out of her wrist again and made his first contact with the crossbeam. Jamilla felt a bit relieved because she thought the wrist part was over. Once the nail was through, it would be easier to bare. But she was wrong. The hardness of the wood made it very hard to finish the job. The executioner needed six more blows to get her wrist fully nailed to the beam, every blow causing Jamilla more and more pain in addition to the already unbearable agony…

At the first blow, Jamilla had pulled back her second wrist. “Aagh!” A short scream escaped her mouth every time the nail went deeper. Finally the last blow was given and the executioner stood up. Shortly he admired his work, then he walked over to the other side of the beam to nail her other wrist. Jamilla didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed not to cry. Although only one of the four nails was in place, she was already covered with sweat. She looked at her unnailed wrist once more, then she placed it on the crossbeam as she saw the executioner approached with the second nail. He looked at her beautiful young face while he went across her wrist with his fingers to locate the bones. When he found the right spot, he place the nail on it, held his hammer high up in the sky. Then he waited for a moment to see if Jamilla really wouldn’t pull down her arm now that she knew what it felt like to have one nailed wrist. Then he started his horrible job.

Jamilla thought she knew what she had to expect, but no one could ever get used to a sudden explosion of pure pain like that. Again her short screams filled the air, again her beautiful bare feet rubbed against the sand, but yet the agony seemed like at least a thousand times worse. Again she felt how the nail crushed some of her bones and drove others apart. It was in this pure sensation of nothing-but-absolute-agony- that Jamilla realized something strange. With every blow she screamed her little “AaAgh’s” as a message to every one on the square that she couldn’t take it any more. But now she realized, as her pain reached a new, horrible peak with every other blow that she wanted more. Though the agony made it quite impossible to keep her wrist in place, as long as the nail hadn’t pinned it to the wood, Jamilla realized she was able to do so, because she loved it. From this moment one, she could kill and love the executioner for what he was doing to her at the same time. She hated and admired him because he was able of hurting her like this. Though her agony reached unknown hights with every blow, she couldn’t wait for the next one. She watched closely how the nail disappeared deeper into her wrist and into the wood. When the executioner stood up after the nailing, Jamilla felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her body was under tension, shivering, excited, despite the heat her nipples remain hard all the time, and she notes that her juice has started to leak.

Jamilla looked at her beautiful nude body as the soldiers made preparations to pull up the cross. With her arms spread out like this above her head and her legs a bit opened to feel the sand under her feet for the last time, both her beautiful small breasts with their long and hard nipples and shaven pubic were exposed to the crowd. Yet Jamilla felt no shame, she felt only pain and a deep desire for more pain. Two soldiers were tying ropes to both ends of the crossbeam while the third one was placing some small pieces of wood at the bottom of the longpole so that the cross wouldn’t slide over the sand when they tried to raise it. Then they attached the ropes to their donkey as well. Then the executioner kneeled down at Jamilla’s feet. He grabbed them by the ankles and measured the length of her legs. He placed her feet on the longpole, right next to each other, so that her legs were slightly bent. He looked at it, changed the pose a bit, released her feet and carved a little bit of wood out of the pole, where he wanted her feet to be when he nailed them. Jamilla had observed his actions very well. For a moment she thought he was going to nail her feet before they raised the cross. She had loved the feeling of his hand around her feet. The two soldiers made the donkey pull up the cross while the executioner made sure the longpole would slip into the hole that was dug for it. As they raised her cross and her feet left the ground for the last time, Jamilla felt how her weight was no longer carried by the thin longpole but only by the two spikes that pierced her wrists. She had to scream. Little yelps of both extreme agony and pleasure escaped her mouth while the donkey was raising her cross. As her cross was almost in a complete vertical position, Jamilla spotted the carve made by the executioner to indicate the intended position of her feet. While the soldiers were making sure the cross wouldn’t fall back if they cut the ropes, Jamilla tried out her final footpose. With her feet against the longpole and her legs opened widely because of the roundness of the longole, she decided that it was both a humiliating and an exciting pose. Jamilla looked at her elegant ankles and her adorable toes. Soon her most beautiful feet would be nailed. To feel once more the pain of really hanging on a cross, she moved her legs away from the longpole, so that they were just hanging on either side of it. Now the executioner placed his ladder against the cross and climbed up to fulfill his duty.

As the executioner reached the final step of the ladder, Jamilla lowered her left foot and placed it right on the spot the executioner wanted it to be. He put the nail right on the most central spot of her foot, slightly adapted its pose so that the toes were really pointing towards the ground. Then he began the nailing. Once again Jamilla experienced a wave of fresh agony running through her body. Again she felt how the nail pushed against the bones of her foot and crushed them with the second blow. Again she let out her little yells every time the nail went a bit deeper. Even when the nail entered the wood after the third blow, she didn’t dare to put any weight on it. Her foot was causing her the same amount of agony as both her wrists. Oooh, she loved crucifixion right now; She thanked the people that invented this heavenly torture from the bottom of her heart as the final blows were given. As the executioner finished the nailing of her left foot, Jamilla felt a bit sad. Now her other foot was the only thing left. After that, her agony would slowly fade away … So she put her other foot right next to her nailed one. The executioner brought out the last nail. Jamilla closed her eyes as her bully raised his hammer. Very intensely she tried to analyze the waves of pain that were caused by the final spike. As the bones of her right foot were crushed she couldn’t hold back a small yelp. Also when she felt how the nail tore the skin of here sole apart, she simply had to release a little “ Ôah!” As the nail was driven further into her foot and the wood of the longpole, Jamilla first realized she was being put to death in the most cruel, horrible and agonizing way known in the whole of the Roman Empire, and that she just loved it. The soldier smashed the nail a bit deeper for the last time. Then he went down a few steps and nailed the wooden plate that quoted Jamill’s crime, name and age to the longpole, right underneath her beautiful, nailed feet. “Jamilla, twenty one year old, blonde slave, murder, theft and arson.” Then he stepped down, took away his ladder and together with one of his fellows he went back to the camp. The third one staid to guard Jamilla so that no one would get her down of there.

Although it had seamed a lot longer, her crucifixion had only taken half an hour. Now most of the spectators resumed their work on the market. For Jamilla, the real horror of crucifixion was about to begin. Right now she realized that the pain in her wrists became too much to bare, even for someone who loved it, so Jamilla had to push up on her feet. Putting her entire weight on the nails piercing her feet caused her a wonderful amount of pain, yet she had to let go, if she didn’t want to faint, and she fell back on her wrists. But very soon, again, the pain in her wrists forced her to retry the push up. The Romans had spiked her in a very ingenious way. By bending her legs just a little bit, Jamilla had to face the problem where to put her weight, but she couldn’t suffocate that easy. As she looked around to see what the other people who had watched her crucifixion were doing. Some people were still looking at her, pointing out to each other how well she was nailed. Jamilla herself was also admiring the work of her bully. While she was at it, she saw that she wasn’t bleeding as much as she thought. The only blood Yamilla saw was the blood that had run out of the wounds when the nails were still driven in. Meanwhile the soldier that staid behind walked over to the fountain and took a drink. He didn’t return to the cross but went strait to one of the stalls on the market. He decided to watch over her from there, in the shadow. On the cross, Jamilla was exposed to the sun. Very slowly her bronzed skin was burning. As she saw the guard take a drink, Jamilla became aware of her own thirst. She wondered whether she could ask for some water as well. After a while her thirst became so big she decided to risk it. “Can…can I have some water to, please…?” she moaned. The guard fulfilled her request and put a cup filled with water on the top of his spear. Jamilla drunk it all and asked for more several times, especially around noon when the sun was burning every drop of liquid out of her.

Jamilla now realized that the pain wasn’t fading away at all. She didn’t know why but the spikes kept hurting her as much as they did when they were driven into place. She looked once more to the nails piercing her body. As she could clearly feel, al four of them were smashed through some bones. “I wonder…” she thought. Jamilla tried to move her fingers, but some of them didn’t react to her command. Also her toes weren’t completely movable. The sight of the spikes entering her feet and wrists fascinated her. Jamilla tried to reach the head of the nails in her wrists. Her fingers could only touch the top of the nails. Her excitement still remains, and her crotch has started to leak, she notes the liquid running down the lips, and the it drops down to the sand.

As the sun went down and the market became empty, Jamilla first realized she would never leave her cross again. Even her corpse would be left up there after she died. She wondered what it would be like, if she died. Would she pass out and never awake again? She didn’t know.

Jamilla’s first night on the cross was filled with agony. There was now way of getting some sleep up there. If the pain didn’t keep her awake, then the coldness of the night would make sure she didn’t sleep. The hours passed slowly, way to slowly, but when Jamilla finally thought she was used to it, the first rays of sunlight announced a new day….

As the market became crowded again, people returned to her cross to see how she was doing. "You 're realy enjoying this, aren't you?" Jamilla managed to ask her public. Of course they did. "Guess what," Jamilla moaned as a reply, "so do I..."

According to some spectators who had seen a few crucifixions already, Jamilla was “dancing” real nice. She was pushing herself up on the spikes piercing her feet and falling back on her wrists al the time. Even if she didn’t had to push up to get some fresh air, she still forced herself to do so. It largely increased her pain. It was her second day on the cross, but Jamilla felt far from exhausted. Now she knew why she hadn’t been raped or whipped: If she were still strong when they nailed her to her cross, she would last longer. Once again Jamilla looked at her beautiful body. The nails fascinated her, how they disappeared in her wrists and feet. Only four nails, but they put her in hell. Right now the thought crossed her mind that despite of the fact that she had been drinking quite a lot yesterday, she didn’t have to pee. The sun burned away every single drop of liquid, even the water from the fountain. In the afternoon, Jamilla felt how she was becoming weaker and weaker, how the pain slowly faded. Right now she wished she could live through it al again, from the cell, to the first nail, the moment of triumph when she exposed her completely nude body to the overwhelmed crowd, the nailing of her wrists and feet, her complete crucifixion. Later that day Jamilla lost conscience. She didn’t saw how a rich salesman paid of the guarding soldier and ordered his men to get Jamilla down from her cross. She didn’t even realized the nails were pulled out.

Jamilla looked out of the window as the sun came up. Six months had passed since her crucifixion. Her wounds had completely healed. The salesman had dropped her of at one of his houses in a small village while she was still unconscious. An other girl slave had told her everything. She had never seen him until now. He was standing in the inner yard, saying goodbye to someone. Then he entered Jamilla’s room. “You’re so beautiful” he said. “You’re so beautiful that you can ask me anything. Ask me and I’ll do it!” Jamilla looked at him as he touched her face. “Well, there is one thing you could do…” She answered.

Later that morning, the entire village watched how Jamilla publicly undressed herself. Completely nude, she walked over to the cross and went lying down on it. She smiled at the salesman as he approached with the hammer and the nails. “Nail me!” she said.

Recently, I was out in San Diego CA. I went to a nude beach a couple of times, very liberating... being naked around other naked people - yes both women & men... I also went to a couple of adult stores. Both of these stores have video booths as well as actual movie theatres. In one of the theaters there were several guys going at it sexually... not what I am into so I left. 2 nights I went to a swingers sex club - Thads. The guys that go there have to be nude (except they can wear shoes / sneakers / sandals etc. The first night it was kinda lame - not many women there, though I was able to watch a beautiful black girl fucking a small white guy by watching through a window, but the second night there was a lot of action going on. In one of the rooms upstairs there is a huge bed and there was a couple (m/f) and the woman was on the bed laying on her back sucking off several guys while other guys were fucking her pussy. I was one of the guys that did get sucked off!! then about 10 minutes later this hot Asian looking woman with a guy came into that room and several people followed them into another room. After I got sucked off I made my way to an outside second floor patio and was able to see into the room that the Asian lady went into. She was laying on a bed getting finger fucked and sucking off a bunch of guys. I made my way into that room and heard the guy she was with say that "she loves to have her nipples sucked on" that got me hard watching other guys fucking her... I unwrapped a condom and slid it on my now rock hard cock (you remember the pic I sent you? If not there is one on my motherless page).. I got in like and aftter a bit I tagged in and slid my cock into her moist pussy, she moaned with pleasure and i felt her gush with cum. As a matter of fact just as i pulled out she squirted big time....i began to get a little soft and needed some fresh air so i went outside. after about 10 minutes outside, I began to make my rounds again inside & saw a crowd gathering in a doorway of another room, this one just had a twin bed. There was a different couple (m/f) and the girl was on her back with her legs spread and feet up in the air, she was sucking her companion while others were fucking her. i stood in line for my turn, I got hard again & put on another condom and waited, slowly stroking my cock as i watched... finally it was my turn, she got into doggy position and just as i was about to penetrate her pussy she turned to face me and said "do you have a condom?" i said yes its already on... I moved my cock to the entrance of her pussy and pushed and it went in so easy but tight. I fucked her for a bit until i came again!!!! what a feeling fucking someone while others are watching you!!! again time for more air. They also have a BSDM area that I checked out.... there they have a cage built with low voltage shocks, there was a hot model type blond that was being shown how to use that. after a few minutes the blond went into another room with a guy and closed the door but didn't close the curtains. she knelt down in front of him and took his dick into her mouth. after sucking his dick for a few minutes she took off her bikini top (btw the girls can wear lingere), stood up and removed her panties, she looked at me through the window and saw me stroking my dick she then mounted his dick and rode him, i nodded my approval!!! and she smiled... after they both came out, i overheard her tell the guy that showed how to use the electric cage, that her clitgot so stimulated she just had to fuck her bf right then! I then went into another room in the house and the first couple (who sucked me off earlier was in the room on the bed, her husband asked me if i would like to go down on her, i said sure... she spread her legs and my tongue went to work... mm tasted so good. He told me to take my time no need to rush..i tasted her cum as she squirted into my face , mmmm good, she then asked if she could mount me, of course i agreed. I laid on my back and she mounted me reverse cg. she rode me until she came... I then made my way upstairs again and out on the patio area a girl was giving 2 millitary guys simultaneous bj's, after a couple of minutes another girl comes in and sits down and she starts giving bj's as well. she took my dick in her mouth and sucked i looked over at the first girl and he was going to town with the first 2 dicks, the slurping sound was turning me on and i pulled out of her mouth and sprayed my cum all over her face...... I stayed for several more hours and there was much more that happend . too bad you were not there to experience it!!!!!

Few exciting sexual things to get off my chest. So I'm married with kids. Wife knows I was a sex addict who used to visit escorts. Have to keep my activities secret now after getting caught so I just usually hit massage parlours for happy endings and b2b. Went to one today and struck it super lucky. There was an eastern european girl there with THE most smoking body. Fake tits and lips but a 11/10 body and a 8/10 face. Tanned, slim but with huge (soft) fake knockers and a bubble butt. She was perfect and let me finger her whilst she made me cum in minutes telling me I had a surprisingly big cock. Anyway after that I knew id come home where my wife who had just ended her period said shed be ready to pump. I was so turned on that id be sucking on 2 sets of huge boobs within the space of 2 hours  I came again within minutes. To top matters off, I was on this site in boards a few days ago and saw some hoe cheating on her husband and the husband had posted her videos of her cheating on spy cam and dropped her real email address. I emailed her to see how the bitch would react. She played dumb at first but I said I'd seen her nude online and wanted more of her nudes but her constant querying replies and nervous reaction betrayed the fact she knew something was up and I was serious. I showed her I have proof of her cheating and told the bitch to now send me nudes if she doesn't want me to disclose her secret. She is unbelievably actually playing ball and after 30 or so emails sent me the first pic of her boobs!! I'm now negotiating getting her to write my name on her chest before sending me more snaps of them so that they aren't just screen grabs from randoms online and the strategy appears to be working. I literally can't believe my luck! Haha gotta love how fucking pervy and messed up everyone now is these days 😂

A few months before my 19th birthday I started to work as a stripper at this club on the far side of Colfax called Saturdays  this was a total nude place non alcohol the only bad part lol because I am so small and we'll I was shaving my pussy well before it was the in thing my first night working I caused alot of news lolthe other dancers at first hates me because my first night I made about 1200 in tips the best they ever seen had ever guy there hard as hell before I got done for the night this sexy ass black man wanted a private dance he asked if I wanted to hook up when I got done I said yes he waited and we left he took me down the street to this motel right of Colorado Blvd and Colfax we went to the room and to my surprise there was 4 other black man there waiting my pussy got so wet before I knew it I was on all fours sucking a huge cock the Tyrone the guy who toke me there laid on the bed his cock so big and hard and told me to climb on I did my pussy was barely getting use to his size when I felt another guy climb on the bed before I could re act he was putting his cock in my assthw feeling I got from that huge cock maybe me squirt I cam so fucking hard for the next 2 hrs ever single cock in that room toke there turn in me when they were done I could barely walk home I had cum dripping down my thighs and out of my ass I loved that summer job had alot of guys and a few dancers pussy to

I think my wife is possibly cheating. Found this on her phone last night. I know it was taken in the bathroom at work because she’s sent me nudes before from there but this on wasn’t sent to to me. There was three other pics from yesterday also that weren’t sent to me. What do you think ? I haven’t confronted her yet

My girlfriend and I have been together for 6 years. We have a great sex life, and started getting more adventurous. Started with toys and talking dirty, to flashing in public, then to daring her to answer the door naked. It was hot af. Then started fucking on hotel balconies, and kept progressing. What finally took it further, was after I came in her mouth, she grabbed and kissed me. That led to fantasy talks about imagining kissing her after she sucked another guys dick… after a few weeks, I started bringing up names of our co workers, friends etc. one day at work, she sent me a nude, and I told her I was going to show a buddy of mine. She went radio silent for 10 minutes, and I thought she was pissed. Then she sent me a vid of her in bed, and said here’s another for him to see! Then started saying I wouldn’t, I was scared, and that I would go crazy knowing a guy I work with seen her. Finally, I told her to send another, as I was going to show him some YouTube video, and I was gonna let it pop up while he had my phone. Well she did, and I watched as he opened the text. I acted like I diddnt know, then went to grab my phone. He switched screens back, but I checked and it was still open. This was the start of sharing my gf! More to come

the vid he seen