It was Amy’s birthday weekend. She had just turned 40. I was already a year ahead of her. We’re typical millennial moms. We both look younger than our age, great skin, glowing hair. We were getting ready for her party at my house. We’re childhood friends and, as usual, had no problem changing in front of each other. Amy is tall and thin. Despite three children, she always bounced back to be skinny and toned. I’m not as lucky. I have a pooch. My breasts have always been saggy and have gone downhill since. That’s an area we have in common. Amy had small, perky tits before the kids, and they’d deflated to almost no breast tissue since. I caught an updated peek as she slipped on her sundress and had me tie it for her. We were going out for a stereotypical girls’ night in Savannah, a two-hour drive. We packed up the bathroom, putting away the flat irons and makeup, headed downstairs, and said goodbye to my husband, who was staying home to watch both sets of kids. Ryan, also a typical
I hated all the pre-wedding chores. My best friend had decided to throw a big ceremony, and as best man, I was forced to wear a tuxedo. Not just buy one, but have it custom-made at some fancy tailor. A nasty autumn rain was drizzling outside, and the prospect of hanging around for an hour or two while they took my measurements was depressing. The Velvet Atelier was located in the basement of an old mansion. Inside, it was dim, cozy, and cramped with endless rolls of fabric. I gave my name to the receptionist, and a minute later she came out to meet me. Her name was Elvira. She couldn't have been more than twenty-eight, but she carried herself with that calm, slightly haughty grace that comes from women who know their worth and their craft. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a high, sleek ponytail. A strict black pantsuit clung to her figure, emphasizing her slender waist and the sharp curves of her hips. Underneath the jacket, she wore an ivory silk blouse, and I could have
So last night I finally got a reply from this girl telling me that she wanted to come by and grab her panties as her boyfriend would be back in town soon. I was getting ready to head out on a date with another girl I had be messaging, but I quickly blew her off since I’d been going crazy thinking about this influencer non stop since the weekend. I’d even jerked off to her photos online an embarrassing amount and knowing that I still had her dirty panties in my possession got me even more aroused. Needless to say, she had me fucking obsessed, and I was desperately craving this nasty anal bitch so bad I’d have done anything to see her again. It was pretty late by the time she showed up at my apartment. My cock had been rock hard in anticipation since her message and I couldn’t resist slowly edging myself a few times to her profile to the point where my balls were getting blue and sore. I tried to play it cool but I was already a leaky cum brained mess by the time I greeted her at the d
So, for context, my wife is a heavy sleeper. Her and her sister (I’ll call her Jane) are really close, and early on, my wife had accidentally shared some pictures with her and was rather talkative to her about our sex life. My wife and I are 31 and 32, her sister is 28. Well, we shared an Airbnb with her side of the family one night and we were told she may need the extra bed in our room. The night went on, my wife and I slept and my SIL, we’ll call her Sarah, stayed up downstairs so I assumed she wasn’t going to need the bed. The room was small, illuminated by the alarm clock red light but had our queen bed and a double. Laying there in bed, feeling especially horny, my cock began to press against my underwear as I laid in bed thinking of my wife. I made my way to the attached bathroom and continued, took some time, then made it back to bed, still stroking myself. I laid back, had the blanket at my ankles and was slowly stroking myself cock. Then, in the “empty” bed in the room I
My boyfriend (M23) rents a 2-bedroom house, and I (19F) moved in about a year ago. Recently, my friend (22F) moved in with us. I've noticed he looks at her a lot, and I'm not going to lie, she's incredibly attractive. She's a gym enthusiast with defined abs, a great figure, and very noticeable perky breasts. I'm not concerned that he would do anything, and I've even joked that he probably has private thoughts about her. Well, recently her shower broke in the downstairs bathroom, and the repair man wasn't scheduled to come for a few days. She asked if she could use our shower in the master bedroom. I said sure, no problem. I also mentioned that the shower head has a wonderful massage feature which is great for personal relaxation, if you know what I mean. I've had quite a few enjoyable experiences using that shower head. She smirked and said she'd be sure to test that feature, then went to the gym. Later that morning, my boyfriend and I were on the couch when she came back from the gy
I’ve always been drawn to Diane. From our very first shift together, her easygoing vibe and sharp, irreverent humor felt like a perfect match for my own. Her looks—blonde with a figure she knew exactly how to use to her advantage—were an obvious bonus, and she wasn't shy about referencing the effect she had on people. Diane had always been my obsession, my quest. As we got closer, I didn't bother hiding the fact that I wanted her. I was just one more name on the long list of men who’d felt the same way, I’m sure. But then she told me something I actually found hard to believe: she claimed she’d only ever been with her husband, Jeff—the same guy who’d been her first back in high school. Still, I persevered. Surely she had to wonder, at least occasionally, what she was missing. As our friendship grew, our rapport became so obvious that she eventually became my "work wife." We spent almost every lunch break together off-campus. At one point, she even let me in on a secret: the other wom
This is my first post here, so hopefully you guys enjoy it. Everything is 100% true, and if people actually like it I can share more of what happened after. Everything at the job started completely normal. She was friendly, professional, always quick with a laugh during slow shifts. We’d chat about customers, complain about the schedule, grab coffee on breaks—nothing more. She was married, so I never even let my mind wander in that direction. She wore the standard work uniforms that hid her figure pretty well, and I honestly never thought twice about it. Over a few weeks though, things slowly shifted. Little touches when we passed each other behind the counter. Her hand brushing my arm a second longer than necessary. Me squeezing her shoulder when she nailed a tough customer interaction. It felt harmless, but the tension kept building. One slow afternoon we were both sitting in the back room waiting for the next rush. She was scrolling through her phone, showing me random old photos
My(18F) sister Sandy 24F (fake name) has a boyfriend John 27M (again fake name to conceal identities) and they have been together for 3 years now. I’ve always been friendly with John, he is good to my sister and treats me well, pays for when we all go out, cooks for all of us sometimes etc. Recently the three of us went to a vacation on an island, i won’t bore you with all the details but it was an experience of an lifetime, great weather, amazing food except for one thing which has been bothering me a lot. On the third night we went out drinking and partying, Sandy had waaaay to much to drink, she started clearly emmarasing John in the club, he tried to ignore it for a bit and we actually danced for a while trying to have fun but Sandy was too much so we all went home and put her to bed. We are all in one big room and after we put Sandy to be John and I went on balcony to smoke a joint, we had a great time and i don’t know if it was the alchocol or what but i noticed he started be
You’d think after three years of living together, I’d get used to Tom’s routine. I could set my watch by the sound of his electric toothbrush and the muffled cursing at NPR blaring from the bathroom. Today, he left an hour earlier than usual, padding through the hallway in the same faded slippers, pausing at the bedroom door to kiss my hair with the sleepy tenderness of a man who assumed the world was his, and also assumed he’d be coming home to a hot dinner and slightly hotter girlfriend. “Call me if you get bored,” he said. “I’m sure the big bad house will be lonely without me.” I faked a laugh, letting it slide over the lump of resentment that always appeared when he was most sincere. “Go have fun at your stupid conference, honey. Try not to get so drunk this time.” He winked. “No promises.” I waited five minutes before letting out a sigh after he left. Tom was small, really small. I was dissatisfied. I wanted more. I wanted a cock that didn’t disappear when I closed my thighs.
It was summer break, and yesterday I’d gotten home from college. My eighteen year old little sister, Luna, was also home, but our mother was at work. I was barely conscious when my bedroom door banged open and Luna threw herself onto my mattress, shrieking, “Surprise hug!” “Jesus, Lu—” She landed right on top of me, her arms wrapping around my neck in a stranglehold. “It’s so nice to have you here again!” She mashed her face into my shoulder, which would have been cute if not for the fact that she had me in a sleeper grip and I was currently pitching a world-class morning wood beneath the sheets. This became a very pressing issue when I realized two things at once: (a) Luna was wearing a flimsy purple nightgown, and (b) said nightgown was currently doing an Olympic-caliber press against my hardon. “Air … need air,” I said, which only encouraged her to hug tighter. Her tits, which had recently advanced to natural Ds squished right against my chest. “Oh my god, you’re such a baby,”
When I was younger I’d do lawn work around the neighborhood to make some cash. Usually it was for my family members. When I was 18 a new neighbor moved in to the big house on the block. It had a massive lawn. I never spoke to them or rarely saw them. One day when I was finishing mowing my other neighbors lawn, that is next to their house. A woman walked over, Total milf, big tits, fat ass, tons of make up, had the whole trophy wife vibe. She knew my name which surprised me. She said she was the new owner of the large house and our other neighbor suggested me. She said her husband is always out of town for work and she doesn’t want to hire a whole lawn company and was hoping I could mow it. Usually I charged like $10-$20 and my dad paid for the gas. Since her lawn was huge I was like how’s $30 in my mind thinking that was good. She laughed saying I needed to learn some lessons on pricing for my worth. She asked how long lawns normally take, and asked me some questions. She then sa
​ I've been going hard at the gym for about years now. Started for health, stayed for the glow-up. My ass and legs are legitimately my best features now—squats, hip thrusts, the whole routine. Tight leggings, shorts, whatever, it all looks insane. At first it was just nice feeling strong and confident. But then I noticed the stares. The double-takes. The guys who suddenly "need" to walk past me five times. And yeah… I started liking it. A lot.Especially when they're with their girlfriends or wives. There's something about knowing he's looking while she's right there. The risk, the forbidden vibe, the little ego boost that he's mentally comparing. I know it's shitty. I know. But it gives me this rush I can't explain. Yesterday was the worst/best one yet. I was at this athletic wear store trying on new leggings. I had on this pair, compressive, basically painted on. My ass looked ridiculous (in the best way). I step out of the fitting room to check the mirror in the main a
All I could think about was going to see Nancy. I was hooked. I showed up to see Nancy the next day and was hard already hard as a rock just thinking about being with her, being in her. She opened the door in her underwear. “You’re a bit early I just got back” she giggled. “I woke up horny hoping you were next to me” I came up behind her and fondled her tits then shoving my hand down the front of her panties. I rubbed her clit for a few seconds and she went weak in the knees. I unclasped her bra letting her big DD boobs fall out, and pulled on her nipples. I licked the back of her ear “it would have been nice waking up next to you” As I pulled her panties down it was impossible to miss they were wet in the crotch already. She turned to me and saw I was holding the crotch of her panties to my nose. “I have lots of soiled panties I can leave you” \*wink\* I inhaled one last time “that works for me”. “Okay. I’ll trade you for a shirt with your cologne and body shampoo scent on it” it’s a
I’ve been casually hooking up with this guy for a couple of months. Nothing emotional, just insane chemistry and the kind of sex that completely erases your brain. Last night we were on his couch watching a movie, and he was being obnoxiously flirty. Tugging me onto his lap, kissing my neck, slipping his hand under my hoodie like I already belonged there. I assumed we’d end up fucking like usual, but instead he tipped my head back and told me to open my mouth. I didn’t hesitate. He stood, pushed his sweats down, and started using my mouth slowly, deliberately, like he was in full control. My body was shaking, tears spilling down my face, spit everywhere, his hand twisted in my hair like it was a grip. When he started going deeper, I grabbed his thighs and let him take whatever he wanted. Something about it completely short-circuited my brain. He pulled out just long enough to wipe my tears with his thumb and murmur how good I looked like that. I moaned. Loud. Embarrassingly real.
Hello This is the first time I write something like this but I have been reading here for a long time and after what I experienced I just felt the need to write about it . I (m23) did not have any sexual experience in like 8 months and I was just craving it , so I was a bit desperate and looked for pay sex. (I am from Germany , so I did not have any trouble finding anything ) . I saw a women catching my eyes . A latina with perfectly shaped tits , perfect ass , just a dream women. To good to be true. I write her and she sends me the price and service list. After seeing her profile picture again I just could not resist and had to ask for a "date". I even told her that I was only 23 and it has been some time since I had sex and she said that was no problem and was looking forward to seeing me. Now the day arrived and I am nervous as hell. We said we will meet at the place at 8pm . I arrive there and knock on the door. She opens the door and I just could not believe my eyes . Sh
My girlfriend, Cindy, was away visiting relatives for two weeks, and I knew she missed me terribly. We'd been texting a lot, so one evening after my shower, I decided to surprise her. I was still hard, my dick was still hard, so I took a couple of really good close-up shots and sent one to her with the caption, Miss you, baby. This is all yours. Feeling pretty happy, I tossed my phone aside and launched a video game to while away the time until she was ecstatic in the best possible way. About ten minutes later, my phone vibrated. I grabbed it, expecting a flood of lustful messages from Cindy... but these were from her mom, Linda. "Wow... was that meant for me?" And right underneath it, a screenshot of my dick photo. It turned out their names were listed next to each other in my contacts: "Cindy" and "Cindy's Mom (Linda)." I sent this to the wrong chat. My stomach twisted. My face burned. Total panic. I imagined this hot 45-year-old MILF (who I always sneak a peek at when I'm over)
Back when I was in college, I worked on DoorDash sometimes to make extra money. I usually wore leggings and a cute top. Well, this one particular Friday night, I was wearing black leggings with this yellow crop top. I didn’t wear a bra because I simply wasn’t feeling. I wear one almost all of the time because my heavy tits need the support, but sometimes, these girls just need the freedom. I start accepting and delivering orders. The night is going normal. I get the usual amount of glances at my chest. Pretty standard. I always get attention like that even if I’m not wearing anything particularly revealing. I’m simply too busty to hide. A few hours in, still before sunset, it starts pouring while I’m in a restaurant waiting for an order. Great. I didn’t bring my rain jacket. I usually check the weather and bring it if it might rain but I forgot this time. The food is ready, I run it to my car. I’m all wet and cold. I turn off the AC and just hope it stops raining by the time I get t
The living room was filled with the scent of jasmine candles and the tart notes of women's perfume—the floral trail of Zhanna and the fresh, almost marine scent of Christina. I sat in a chair, watching them as jazz played softly, and they, the two friends, settled on the huge sofa, their bare feet touching. Zhanna, my red-haired wife, was the embodiment of temptation in her short black dress. Her curves, the very ones that had driven me crazy all these years, stood out softly in the dim light. Christina, a slender blonde in tight jeans and a silk tank top, gestured as she told yet another amusing story. A provocative tattoo on her ankle peeked out from under her jeans, and a silver piercing in her belly button glinted with every movement. "Boris, don't stare like you're at an exhibition," Zhanna winked at me, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Want to join in? There's plenty of room." I moved to the sofa, feeling a slight arousal creeping in. Ch
I sat in a chair in the corner of our living room, watching the candlelight cast shadows on the walls. The light was subdued, almost intimate, but there was something heavy in the air. My wife, Lera, stood at the bar, idly stirring a cocktail in a tall glass. She was 32, but she looked flawless: long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, a tight black dress that emphasized every curve of her body - a thin waist, rounded hips, breasts that seemed about to burst from the cleavage. She knew how to present herself. She knew I was watching. And she knew how it affected me. I, Artem, 35, am an ordinary middle manager, with a receding hairline and a habit of slouching when I'm nervous. It's not that I'm ugly, but next to Lera I always felt... smaller. She was like fire, and I was like a smoldering ember about to go out. We'd been married for seven years, and somewhere along the way our marriage had turned into a strange dance of love, habit, and... this. This. This. Lera gl
After three months of work restrictions because of bicep surgery, I was cleared to work without restrictions. They signed me up for strength physical therapy three days a week. I thought it was odd no therapy before but I'm not a doctor. My therapist was a beautiful young lady, Tiff. Early to mid 20s, average height, beautiful blond hair and incredible green eyes. I couldn't tell her figure too well because her scrubs were a bit big for her. During the therapy and small talk, I found out that I work with her father. I know him but not well enough to know a lot about his personal life. Tiff has a bubbly personality and if you didn't know better, you'd think she was a flirt, at least that's what I thought. At my third visit, I noticed her scrubs were tighter and I could tell her figure better. Probably C cup boobs and slightly generous hips. I was sitting in a chair and she was on a stool with wheels. She had my arm stretched out towards her and I had a foam ball in my hand squeez