New male collegue

Seanna McCaffrey is the president and CEO of McCaffrey & Associates, a
small but very successful business founded by her grandfather, after whom she
was named, and from whom she inherited her business sense. When he took it
over for a while, her father did not run it very well, and she has brought it
from the brink of disaster to its present thriving condition.
She is tall, about 5′ 8″, slender and light boned, so that her 127 pounds
are not skinny. She wears her carrot-colored hair fairly short, and dresses
for business in very tailored grey pants-suits, with just a touch of color in
her accessories. Although she appears to be in her early twenties, she will
celebrate her thirtieth birthday this coming November. Continue reading New male collegue

The image of me

For five years, from April of 1979 until this last April, I worked part- time
at this funky non-commercial radio station in New York. Non-commercial, by the
way, means you do it for love and not for money. I was part of the public
affairs department and I produced programs on nuclear weapons, South Africa,
utilities, alternate energy, housing, all sorts of things.
During the time I worked at this station I occasionally supervised two
interns, Caroline and Eve, who worked on a couple of programs, turned out to
be very nice folks, but who did not realize that producing a regular radio
program takes a shitload of work. Eight to ten hours sometimes for one hour of
finished product, and that does not count travelling to and from wherever the
person you’re interviewing is located. So after some much needed help,
Caroline and Eve sort of faded off into other things. I once met Caroline
briefly in Penn Station and said hello, but I never saw Eve again until
yesterday. Continue reading The image of me

Smut Bedtime Story

Except for its inconspicuous lock, the door at the end of the
short hallway of Miranda’s middle-class home looked perfectly
But the windowless room beyond the locked door was a sexual
Never-Never Land, a fantastic reflection in a kinky Looking Glass.
While Miranda watched, amused, the key dangling from her finger, I
took one step inside, then another — and stopped, staring. My
heart was racing, my eyes wide. I had never seen anything like it
Two walls were mirrored, from the tiled floor to the black-
painted ceiling. An incredible array of whips, restraints, gags,
and harnesses hung from the peg strips which circled the room at
waist height. Pushed into the near corner was a heavy padded
sawhorse; the center of the room was dominated by a wooden X-frame
solid as an oak and seven feet tall. Both the horse and the frame
were dotted with steel eyebolts, some of which sported dangling
chains or cuffs. All of it looked well used. None of it, as far as
I could tell, was for show. Continue reading Smut Bedtime Story

Ram My Asshole

A month ago, my girl friend Jill and I got to talking with a waitress at a
local restaraunt and we really hit it off. Her name was Chris and she said she
had two hung guys who were coming over to her place when she got off work..and
we were welcome to join them. We accepted her invitation quickly and met her
when she left the restaraunt.
About a half hour after getting to her place, Chris disappeared to get out
of her “work clothes”. I was sitting right next to Jeff on the sofa, while Jill
and Pete were making out across the room. Jeff’s finger touched under my chin
and I turned to look at him. I kissed him, feeling his lips slowly part, and
his tongue gently stroked my lips. I parted my lips and let his tongue enter
my mouth, eagerly swirling my tongue around his. I chased his tongue into
his mouth when it withdrew, and that excited him, his hands now sliding
urgently down my back. We kissed and kissed for a long time, his hands
and tongue making me so hot that I was sure my pants were visibly wet. Chris
announced the snacks were ready, and Pete disentangled from Jill to help her
bring out the food and some drinks. She sat down, and started telling some
jokes, most of them raunchy. Continue reading Ram My Asshole