Shower sex story

I went to work one Saturday knowing that I should be able to get some
work done. Sure enough, the parking lot was empty and I got right to

I only took a couple of short breaks and was feeling very sore by
mid-afternoon. I decided that I had earned a break and went to the
men’s room to use the shower facilities.

I was had just finished shampooing my hair when I saw someone enter
the dressing area. He was one of the engineers from upstairs who
often showered here after his daily runs. Continue reading “Shower sex story”

Having nice time together

Last Sunday morning I got a phone call from Darby. He asked if I’d like to go
sailing with he and some friends, all but one of whom I had already met. Since
I love the water and had only planned to clean house I naturally agreed to go.
I stopped at the store and bought some enough wine, beer, fruit and other
assorted munchies for five.

When I arrived I found Darby and his friend Quinn working on the motor. Quinn
is a tall, blonde, good looking engineer that Darby has unsuccessfully tried
to set me up with for over 5 years. Continue reading “Having nice time together”

Old woman lover

From the time of our first orgy together, DORA stayed on my mind even
more than BETTY, cute little BETTY with her fresh young ass, pussy, budding
tits, and mouth. I found myself wanting DORA more than her slim,
long-legged,sexy, 36-year-old daughter SAL, who was so very free and
creative. I couldn’t understand my desire, but I certainly knew how to
satisfy it. Whenever I worked on the north side of town, I would take my
breaks at DORA’s little cottage. I would park across the street, walk to th
e door, feeling my cock rise as I did, ring the bell, and wait for a very
loving, erotic welcome. I discovered that DORA didn’t ever wear much
clothing, unless it was very cold. On cold days, I could count on her erect
nipples even surer. But, no matter what the temperature, DORA was always
“hot” and nearly naked when she opened the door…eagerly greeting me and
the cock she adored. She would bring me into the entryway and immediately
begin undressing me, kissing and licking my mouth and nipples, working her
way down my chest to my navel, which she frenched wildly too. She would rub
her big, soft breasts against my hairy chest or back, fondle her tits,
finger her cunt, rub her pussy-flavored or flavored-pussy tasting fingers on
my lips to tease me, embrace me lightly rubbing her full hips against my
groin, grab my cock through my trousers, ooooo-ing and ah-ing as she
anticipated our pleasure. Then she would bend down to undo my shoes,
looking up at me with admiration, eagerness, lust, and affection. She worked
rapidly to get me out of my shoes and socks, so she could get my pants and
bikini panties off. She loved taking the latter all the way down to my
feet…so I could step out of them and she could look up at my balls, my
erect penis, and what s he (and every other woman I’ve known) called my sexy
ass. When she had me naked, she slowly rose to her feet and began her
ministrations on my body; our sex-play would begin! Continue reading “Old woman lover”


I’m wondering how in hell I am going to make it to the party.
That lousy car of mine screwed me again. Middle of Nowhere! Oh
well. Might as well get out the old thumb. I can see a car
coming from the distance.

VVVVRRRRROOOOOOMMMMM! “HEYYYYY! Not so Close!” Damn sports car
drivers think they own the …! (Screeech) What the hell?
Stopping? Backing up? Why would anybody stop for me anyway?
Hmmmmm. Nice. I always liked red sports cars and sporty women.
Be cool. This chick must’ve seen something she likes. (“Keep
your mouth shut, and let her lead,” I’m thinking to myself.) I
point helplessly at my heap of worthless junk, steaming its life
away. Continue reading “Pickups”

Davy Jones Chest

Just another shitty day is paradise. I walked along the
beach at Waikiki on that beautiful Sunday afternoon. It was
the last year 18 year olds could drink in Hawaii and my
usual watering hole was the best place out of the sun. Great
bar, it was under the swimming pool at the Outrigger Hotel.
All those healthy young girls. And after a few beers, they
loved to swim in front of the three large pool windows and
show the cheering crowd a little tit and ass. Sometimes a
bit of pussy. Good clean fun. So I stopped for a cold beer
and to check out the show.I was 35 years old then, married
but enjoyed an occasional lady visitor to the Islands. Davys
was jammed. My usual spot a the regulars end of the bar was
full but there were two seats open in the middle right in
front of the center window to the pool. The noise was
deafening. Continue reading “Davy Jones Chest”

Moonlight Love

I now believe what they say about opposites attracting. We are not alike in
so many ways and yet I feel so deeply about you, love. I’m flighty and
emotional, you are controlled and very cool about your feelings. I’m
spontaneous and you’re a thinker. One of the few things we share is our crazy
outlook on life, and our love of laughter, and our incredible sexual
encounters, of course.

My co-workers are beginning to get suspicious, dear. They know when the
yellow roses arrive, that I will immediately be in a frenzy for several days.
But, don’t stop, love. That’s such a wonderful way to announce your imminent
visit to my city. I always make a place for you in my life. You’re never
here for long, but with us time and space don’t seem to exist. Continue reading “Moonlight Love”

Christmas Sex Story

A warm, tanned Jenny lying in front of the Yuletide fire. Gift-wrapped in
leather and steel. Watching my every move with wide eyes, above the foam that
fills her mouth. At the right time, I’ll remove that foam, and fill her
mouth another way, but not now. Firelight glints from heavy steel
chains, locked to the padded cuffs on her wrists and ankles, spread-eagling her
before me. The other ends of the chains are bolted to screw sockets concealed
by the pile of the carpet. She moves and mumbles, trying to speak through the
foam packing. Soon she’ll be trying to scream, but it won’t come out any
louder. Continue reading “Christmas Sex Story”

Filthy Jokes P2

21.Do hungry crows have ravenous appetites?
22.Is it possible to be totally partial?
23.What’s another word for thesaurus?
24.If a parsley farmer is sued, can they garnish his wages?
25.Would a fly without wings be called a walk?
26.Why do steam irons have a permanent press setting?
27.Can you be a closet claustrophobic?
28.Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?
29.Why do people who know the least know it the loudest?
30.If the funeral procession is at night, do folks drive with their lights off?
31.If a stealth bomber crashes in a forest, will it make a sound?
32.If a turtle doesn’t have a shell, is he homeless or naked?
33.When it rains, why don’t sheep shrink?
34.Should vegetarians eat animal crackers?
35.If the cops arrest a mime, do they tell him he has the right to remain silent?
36.Why is the word abbreviation so long?
37.If you’re cross-eyed and have dyslexia, can you read all right?

One Hard Day

6:00 Alarm.
6:15 Sex.
6:30 Massive dump while reading sports section of USA Today.
7:00 Breakfast, filet mignon and eggs, toast and coffee.
7:30 Limo arrives.
7:45 Stoli bloody Mary en route to airport.
8:15 Private jet to Augusta, GA.
9:30 Limo to Augusta National Golf Club.
9:45 Front nine at Augusta (2 under).
11:45 Lunch 2 dozen oysters on the half shell, 3 Heinekens.
12:15 Sex.
12:30 Back nine at Augusta (4 under).
14:15 Limo back to airport (Bombay Martini).
14:30 Private G4, Augusta to Nassau, Bahamas (nap).
15:15 Late afternoon fishing excursion with all female (topless) crew.
16:30 Land World record light tackle Marlin (1249 lbs).
17:00 Jet back and get massage & hand job en route by naked Kathy
18:45 Shit, shower and shave.
19:00 Watch CNN news flash: Clinton resigns – Hillary and Al
Gore farm animal video released and authenticated.
19:30 Dinner, lobster appetizers, Dom Perignon (1963) 20 oz. New York
21:00 Remy Martin and Cuban Partagas cigar.
21:30 Sex with three women.
23:00 Massage and Jacuzzi.
23:45 Bed (alone).
23:50 12 second, 4 octave fart — dog leaves room.
23:55 Giggle yourself to sleep.

3 for all

She was an attractive divorcee, and a lot of fun to talk to. I
had no idea she would say “That sounds like a great idea!” when I
suggested she join my wife and me for an evening. And the lack of
resistance when I asked Jan about it didn’t really make me feel
too badly.

Here we were together in the hotel suite after an evening of din-
ing and dancing. Sally liked Tuborg Gold Tequila and Jan liked
Manhattans. I was all set for both. We sat and had a few drinks,
when Sally asked Jan to join her in a joint. She never had be-
fore, but was willing to try. I had just quit smoking a few years
before, so didn’t dare join them.

Well, it wasn’t long, with pot and whiskey, and three people who
had known each other for a few years, before the atmosphere became
very, very comfortable. I finally suggested turning off the
lights and lying down and they both agreed.

It was pitch dark, and my clothes were off in a flash. Lying
there in the middle of the king size bed, I was growing with an-
ticipation, hearing them both undressing on either side of the
bed. Sally lied down first and I put my arm around her, kissing
her gently. Her skin was so soft, and I had never touched her be-
fore. As I felt the bed move when Jan sat down, I rolled over on
my back, taking her in my other arm. Her breasts were larger, and
her perfume sweet, and she snuggled in closely.

I was in ecstasy, feeling both of them in my arms, and their
thighs against mine. Both of their hands were exploring my chest
and abdomen. Suddenly I realized that I could feel their lips and
bodies, but I could no longer feel their hands. They had reached
across and were exploring each other intimately. I could begin to
feel their hips writhe as their fingers found each others clits
and reached inside.
Continue reading “3 for all”

Funny Questions

1. If you throw a cat out a car window does it become kitty liter?
2. If corn oil comes from corn, where does baby oil come from?
3. How did a fool and his money get together?
4. How do they get a deer to cross at that yellow road sign?
5. If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?
6. What’s another word for thesaurus?
7. Why do they sterilize the needles for lethal injections?
8. What do they use to ship styrofoam?
9. Why is abbreviation such a long word?
10.Why is there an expiration date on my sour cream container?
11.Why did kamikaze pilots wear helmets?
12.Is it true that cannibals don’t eat clowns because they taste funny?
13.When you choke a smurf, what color does it turn?
14.Does fuzzy logic tickle?
15.Why do they call it a TV set when you only get one?
16.What was the best thing before sliced bread?
17.Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.”
18.If a book about failures doesn’t sell, is it a success?
19.Do cemetery workers prefer the graveyard shift?
20.What do you do when you see an endangered animal that eats only endangered plants?

Nasty Jokes

Q: What’s the fluid capacity of Monica Lewinsky’s mouth?
A: 1 U.S. leader

Q: What do you call a virgin on a waterbed?
A: A cherry float.

Q: What did the sign on the door of the whorehouse say?
A: Beat it – we’re closed.

Q: Why do walruses go to Tupperware parties?
A: To find a tight seal.

Q: What’s the difference between sin and shame?
A: It is a sin to put it in, but it’s a shame to pull it out.

Q: What’s the speed limit of sex?
A: 68; at 69 you have to turn around.

Q: Why did Raggedy Ann get thrown out of the toy box?
A: She kept sitting on Pinocchio’s face, and moaning, “Lie to me!”

Q: Why is air a lot like sex?
A: Because it’s no big deal unless you’re not getting any.

Q: If there isH2O on the inside of a fire hydrant, what is on the outside?
A: K9P.

Q: What’s another name for pickled bread?
A: Dill-dough.

Q: Why are Monica Lewinsky’s cheeks so puffy?
A: She’s withholding evidence.

Q: What’s the difference between light and hard?
A: You can sleep with a light on.

Q: Why is sex like a bridge game?
A: You don’t need a partner if you have a good hand.

Q: What’s the height of conceit?
A: Having an orgasm and calling out your own name.

Q: What’s the definition of macho?
A: Jogging home from your own vasectomy.

Q: What do a Christmas tree and a priest have in common?
A: Their balls are just for decoration.

Q: Why don’t blind people like to sky dive?
A: Because it scares the hell out of the dog.

Q: Why is divorce so expensive?
A: Because it’s worth it.

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Filthy Letters – Worf Meets His Match Part 3

The time passed swiftly on Worf’s duty shift. It seemed only
moments since his unusual encounter with the ice-woman —
Lieutenant Marika — and now he was going off-duty. He turned over
the Security office to his relief, then on a whim queried the
computer about the Helsinkinen woman. The public record held little
of interest, except that it showed exceptional grades at Starfleet
in Klingonaase and Empire History. With his Security overrides, he
could look deeper into the record if he so chose, but he would then
have to justify his decision to his commander, and he didn’t want
to be discussing this woman with Riker for some reason. Not yet.
Marika’s mandatory security and combat training results were also
part of the public record, and it appeared that she had taken many
more elective martial arts classes than were required for an
engineering specialist. Some of his Security officers did not have
as much training. He was interested to note that she was a
SovwI’a’, a master of the difficult and dangerous discipline of
Sun’garghtaj, a type of Klingon knife-fighting that was only used
in mating rituals and highly formalized duels. Be’le’, indeed!

Worf directed the turbolift to the appropriate deck and made his
way to Rec Area Four, a gymnasium area set aside for combat
training and martial arts. The annunciator chimed a moment, then
the doors hissed aside to admit him, while the computer’s
emotionless voice informed him of a gravity differential on the
other side of the threshold. Worf stepped across as if he were
climbing down a stair… a wise precaution, when stepping from a
normal gravity area to one which felt to be almost a full 3 G’s.
The temperature was also very low, in the Klingon officer’s
opinion, perhaps only 10C, and the deck was red-lit, as if the
environmental controls were set to simulate a large planet under
a cool red sun. As his eyes adjusted to the light conditions, he
could make out across the room a whirling, spinning, leaping figure
in silvery armor. With the crown of white hair secured tightly in
braids, it could only be Lieutenant Marika. Again, Worf felt a
strange stirring in his loins. He would have to move very
cautiously under the extra gravitation to avoid injury, but this
woman moved as though she were weightless through the heavy air.
The woman noticed him as soon as he entered, but completed the
complicated kata-figure before she stopped.

“Computer… lights and gravity, normal!” As she spoke into the
air, Worf could feel the weight gradually leaving his body, until
the local gravity was back to normal. Now that the light level was
also higher, he could see that Marika was dressed in full Klingon
body-armor as well.

“I am here!” he said in Standard, echoing the formal Klingon
response of the challenged appearing at a duel. She bowed to him
in the formal manner of the high Klingon duelist, and gestured
beside her. There, awaiting him, was body-armor identical in every
respect to her own, sized however for him. She crossed her arms and
stood, challenge written in every movement of her lithe body, a
sardonic smile that would have done a Klingon princess proud
playing upon her lips. The thought of undressing before this woman
poured molten lead through his veins, making his heart beat more
rapidly and causing a definite tension between his legs. She
noticed his hesitation apparently, for she said, “Will you don
armor, Mr. Worf, or shall we play at draughts? The conditions
agreed to specified ‘no unnecessary bloodshed.'” If his skin had
not been so dark, one could easily have seen the spreading flush
that was heating his cheeks, but he met her eyes and began
stripping, very deliberately. Marika watched every moment,
carefully appraising his body as well as his movements.

Carefully he laid aside his sash with its badges of honor, then
pulled off his uniform tunic with a single fluid motion. He could
not restrain himself from flexing the muscles in his chest a bit.
Her only reaction was a slight dilation of her pupils, but her
stance told him that she was not preparing an attack. Next, he
stepped well away from her, and knelt to unseal the magseams on his
boots, never taking his eyes off the woman for a moment as he
pulled them off and set them aside as well. Lastly, he unfastened
the closure of his trousers. Now her eyes were not meeting his,
they were riveted instead upon the obvious bulge that was still
concealed by the midnight fabric. He could see her flush, of which
she seemed unaware, spreading like sunrise across her pale skin.
He slowly pushed the pants down over his hips, and as his huge
erection sprang free of the cloth, her tongue flickered across her
lips for a moment. Then he stood naked before her, the seeming
illusion of humanity stripped from him with his clothes. Marika
beheld a Klingon of mighty ancestry standing before her, muscled,
trained, armored within his own sinews, and as deadly as a hunting
cat. Swiftly he donned the armor, guarding carefully against
possible attack. Then he rose, saying, “The field is yours. What
form shall the combat take?”

She turned away from him then, and knelt before an ornately carved
wooden case. After watching her execute katas in 3 G conditions,
Worf would have hesitated making an attack, even if he were
treacherously minded. He watched with true appreciation as she
opened the case, revealing within two sets of weapons for the
Sun’gharghtaj, the formal duel that tested a warrior’s courage or
passion. The silver yoDtajmey for the left hand, curved double
tines wrought in starship-hull grade duralloy, gleamed like
starlight, and the golden gharghtajmey, with their rippling
flamelike, pattern-welded blades of iridium-plassteel, caught light
against their faceted edges, throwing yellow-gold glimmers away
like the decay of an antimatter reaction. “Those are antiques from
TlhIngan! Where did you acquire them?” he growled, impressed
against his will by the magnificence of the blades before him,
distinctive in their style, the hard Klingonaase symbols etched
into them proclaiming their maker’s name, famous in Klingon
history, a thousand years dead.

“They were the gift of my QobSovwI’a,” she answered. Worf nodded.
The Klingon warrior who had taught her must have been very
impressed with her skills indeed to have given her such blades, or
(unthinkable in a human, and a woman at that) she had killed her
master and taken them as spoils. Worf’s already high estimation of
Marika increased exponentially as he considered this. “You may
select your weapons,” she told him, the beautiful singing vowels
of her speech rolling over him like the light from the daggers.
“We will fight until there is a clear victor, or until first blood,
but no further. Do you agree?” He nodded, and chose his blades. The
yoDtaj he took from the set nearest him, the gharghtaj from the
farthest. She took up the remaining set. As they rose, she called
out to the computer in a language that he didn’t know, one full of
the rolling musical lilts that he heard beneath her Standard —
presumably Helsinkainen — and the computer obligingly created a
Klingon duelling triskele beneath their feet. She saluted him with
her weapons, and he drew himself up in the formal stance and echoed
her gesture. And the dance began.
To be continued…