Sex at work

I woke up around ten thursday morning with a terrific erection. Today was a
vacation day, and I was sleeping in, dreaming of Christy W—–. Reaching
behind me I picked up the phone, dialed work, and asked for her.

“This is Christy,” she answered.

“Hi Christy, Dave,” I said.

“Hi Dave. How you doing?”

“OK. Say, can you come to see me right now? I live about half a mile from

“What? Now? What for?”

“I just woke up, and I was dreaming about you. I’ve got something here for
you, and I’d love to see you,” I said.
Continue reading Sex at work


It was a cool gray, November afternoon. I was walking
down the quiet, suburban street I lived on, on the way to
Gloria’s house. It was fairly windy, a gust whipped up and I
had to reach down to hold my skirt. I suppose my modesty
wasn’t really in jeopardy but the skirt was considerably
shorter than what I was accustomed to wearing.
Gloria had asked me to assist her with a party she was
throwing for Dave’s boss. He had just started a new job she
really wanted to impress him. Part of his new
responsibilities included entertaining customers. She was
going to hire several college girls to serve food and drinks
but she suggested that maybe I would want to help and in
return she would forget the $65.00 I had borrowed earlier
that month. I readily agreed, the party sounded like fun.
Gloria thought about renting maids uniforms for us but
decided against it, she then asked us to all wear matching
skirts and blouses. Continue reading Dull

Sexual Affair

Breakfast is over…your husband is off to work, and the
kids have left for school. You sit quietly at the kitchen
table finishing the last cup from the coffee
pot…daydreaming about nothing in particular…getting
ready to start another weekday.

The doorbell rings once, startling you from your morning
trance. You rise slowly from the table, wondering who it
might be. As you walk from the kitchen to the front door you
think “what a sight I am, hair all mussed, in an old robe
and worn slippers…well the hell with it, whoever it is
they probably don’t look much better than I do.” Continue reading Sexual Affair

Therese Slut Wife Orgy

Jim and Therese had been married for a couple of years when
we arranged to go camping together. Therese’s sister Jean was
supposed to come along, but she had to cancel out. We left early
Friday afternoon and after a few hours drive were at our campsite.
We set up our two tents on a broad rocky area, with a small
stream about twenty feet away on one side and the woods on the
other. We started a fire and had dinner and were just finishing
as the last few rays of the sunset painted the sky. We walked down
to the stream in the dusk and sat beside it. Jim lit up a joint
and took a deep, relaxing toke. He handed it to Therese who shook
her hair back and took an equally long toke. She shut her eyes and
passed it over to me. Continue reading Therese Slut Wife Orgy

Telepathy Ability

I strolled into the gym, dressed in shorts and a ragged old
T-shirt. People were drifting in, gathering for the fitness
class scheduled to begin in a few minutes. The norms scattered
around the floor stretching and loosening up were fit and
healthy-looking; I’d selected an advanced class for my day’s
recreation. The women, who outnumbered the men by a
considerable margin, were generally dressed in body-hugging
clothing. Spandex was common among the men, too; they mostly
seemed to be of that irritating Serious Exerciser type, anxious
that their clothing should state, “Hey, I do this all the time.” Continue reading Telepathy Ability

hardcore pissing

An Erotic Story

I woke up this morning, with a piss-hard-on. This is NOT
unusual for me, as I find it harder to hold my bladder all night
long as I get older, and still ignore the call of nature in the
I turned over, and cuddled up to my wife, Marsha. At 32
years old, she is no longer the teenager’s wet-dream she was when
I first married her, but she still has a body to put most models
to shame. Even more exciting, the smooth sexy feel of her skin,
and the heady aroma of her silky long brown hair were always
enough to give me ideas, even when I don’t already have a hard-
“Are you at that ‘thing’ again?” giggled Marsha, squirming
back at me, trying to trap my swollen prick between her legs,
where it would do both of us more good. Marsha may not be the
incredibly oversexed barely-pubescent little girl who had trapped
a 16-year-old into marriage, with her insatiable appetite for sex
that had swamped even me; but she still liked to fuck almost as
much as I do. Even two children, and almost nineteen years of
constant sex in marriage had only dampened her sex-drive down to
minor nymphomania. Of course, the thing that STILL amazed me
constantly, was that this incredible creature’s sex-drive all
centered on ME. I still can’t believe I’m so lucky, and I
constantly strive to let her know it.
Two minutes later, we were fucking like bunnies. After two
times the previous night, you might think we would slow down, but
why should we? Even approaching menopause hasn’t slowed my wife
down, and I don’t expect to slow down myself, until I’m at least
ninety years old. Probably not even then.
There’s one trouble with a piss-hard on though. It actually
interferes with the real thing. I couldn’t get off. Marsha was
just finishing her third orgasm, when I finally had to pull out
in disgust. The pressure from my bladder was tickling my
prostate, and interfering with my concentration. Yes,
concentration. After getting off twice the night before, and not
being particularly sexually-neglected anyway, it took some effort
on my part to work up to an orgasm. Usually, I could do this by
imagining I was fucking some cute young teenager, or even pre-
teen, like my wife had been when we first met. Marsha doesn’t
mind, sometimes even working such fantasies along with me. Only
as I said, this time it didn’t work.
My prick softened and slipped out of my wife with a soft
“slurp.” Damn, I was annoyed!
Telling my wife to, “Hold that pose,” I dashed into the
bathroom; trying to get there before the bladder-pressure made me
wet the floor. I heard Marsha giggle, as she “held that pose.”
Damn, again! For what must have been the fortieth time, I
resolved to finish the rough-in place for a second bathroom in
the basement. The bathroom was already occupied by my 16-year-
old daughter taking a shit, and I barged right in on her, as the
bathroom door had come loose several years ago, and I had never
bothered to replace it.


Since nobody in our house wears any clothes at night, it was
no surprise to see that Marie was as naked as I was. Nicely
formed breasts, and a furry “vee” showed that my daughter was
more developed than her mother had been, when she started having
sex, even though I knew Marie was still a virgin; as a couple of
times she had teased both me and her big brother by actually
showing her open crack, so we could see right up to her hymen.
Marie may not be fucking, like her mother had been doing much
younger than she was, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t interested
in sex. She just wants to save her virginity for marriage and
babies with the man she loves. (Yeah, I know it’s an old-
fashioned idea, and she doesn’t get it from her parents, but we
don’t discourage her either.)
All this to one side; my bladder pressure was so extreme, I
was about to pull over and pee in the sink, or possibly the tub,
right in front of my not-so-innocent young daughter, when she
stopped me. “Oh Daddy!” she sighed in disgust at me for not
thinking of what was obvious (to her). “Come here.”
My eyebrows went up, but I did go over to the “throne” where
Marie was just dropping a fat turd in the bowl. I knew she was
unable to get up, and for a second I wondered if she wanted me to
pee between her legs, while she sat there. Especially, once she
told me to, “Now you just ‘Use the toilet,’ like you were going
to, just as if I wasn’t here.”
I was about to actually try; hoping I could aim my prick
closely enough to not get her ALL wet, while I peed between her
legs, when my little girl leaned over, and swallowed my prick! I
couldn’t believe it. The thought of pissing between her legs,
was naughty enough, but this?
Marie looked up from where my prick was warmly ensconced in
her sexy little mouth, and mumbled, “Mmmmm, Mmmmd!” I took this
to mean something like, “Come ON! I haven’t got all day!” so I
did it. Yes, I peed in my little girl’s mouth.
Surprisingly, Marie didn’t either pull off, or force herself
forward so I could pee down her throat. She seemed to actually
ENJOY the taste of my urine on her taste-buds, and she ran her
lively little tongue around my prick, as if she was savoring the
flavor. Obviously, this was NOT the first time she had ever done
something like this, but I was not inclined to ask at the time
when she had done it before, or how many times. I just stood
there in somewhat a state of a shock, and let it flow. As I was
doing so, I heard my daughter let go a stream of her own piss.
For a moment, it seemed as though I was pissing right through my
daughter’s body. Actually, I think that was the impression my
little girl was trying to give me. Or perhaps, she liked the
idea of her father pissing though her, and it was HER turn-on.
At least I didn’t have a hard-on any more.
Only Marie didn’t stop at just drinking my piss. Once I
stopped peeing, and the last drops oozed out on her tongue, she
wrapped her sexy lips around my penis, and started sucking on me
like an experienced whore. Back and forth; up and down; with her
lively little tongue slithering around the tube on the bottom,
until I was fully erect, with a true hard-on, and not some piss-
hard imitation.


“There!” said Marie with some satisfaction, as she placed
one last kiss on the now proud paternal erection in front of her.
“Now you go back in there, and give Mom what she’s waiting for;
now that I’ve fixed you up for her.” She turned back to wiping
herself up, and starting to run the bathwater; ignoring my
shocked look. An amused glint ran through her eyes, but
otherwise she ignored me.
I sighed; grinned at my incredible young daughter, and
followed her advice; heading back for the bedroom, where Marsha
was probably still waiting impatiently. On the way, I almost ran
into my 18-year-old son Mike, (Yes, and my name is Marty
Morgan. . . People call us the “M&M’s.” And yes, it’s
deliberate.) heading for the bathroom, with a piss-hard-on of his
own, sticking out from HIS groin like a pipe sticking out of a
Mike grinned at me, when he saw his father coming OUT of the
bathroom, with as big an erection as he was going IN with. “I
see Marie got to you too, didn’t she Dad?” he remarked, before
waving me into the bedroom with Marsha. “I bet Mom needs that
pretty bad by now,” was his only other comment before vanishing
into the bathroom where his naked little sister was making
splashing noises in the tub.
Marsha was grinning when she saw the proud erection I had
brought her. This time I deliberately did NOT close the door, so
we could both listen in to the sexy squeals and yelps coming from
across the hall, while I slid in and out of my wife’s hot little
hole; and she squeezed me with a snatch that was still amazingly
tight, for a woman of her age. We both were incredibly hot; just
imagining what our two oversexed offspring were probably doing in
that tub together.
It’s amazing what two horny teenagers can do in the way of
sex-play, without actually fucking cock-in-cunt; or the boy
getting the girl pregnant. I imagined that our two kids were
probably going to explore every one of those possibilities. I
blew a thick sticky wad of sperm in my sexy wife’s belly, just
thinking about it; while she climaxed around me in a matching
“Whoo,” Marsha finally panted in my ear, “if our little girl
is going to get you all THAT excited, then I see I’m going to
have to have Marie warm you up a little more often, from now on!”
Well, as you can guess, I didn’t exactly disagree.