Jeff never figured out why his wife of two years went “postal;” actually it was more like “bank berserk” but that term was coined just to describe her activities, so when it started happening the only name he could come up with was “postal.” From Jeff’s perspective – maybe one a neutral observer might find flawed – he thought he had a decent marriage. What an unlikely woman, he thought, to do what she was doing. Maybe he...
Will it be a man or a woman? That’s the first thing I wonder when I’ve been booked in for a full-body massage. Of course I hope for a masseuse. The idea of a woman running her hands all over my body holds vastly more appeal than a man doing the same. It shouldn’t make any difference, I know, but, well, it does. I haven’t had many full-body massages (I really should have more) but those few were all given by women. And on...
“Oh my God, my pussy is so sore! It feels like it has been pounded by a brick multiple times!” Brit said as she laid there in the bed, petting it, like she was trying to sooth it. I could not help but look as she caressed her tender lips. The fold there between her legs was still a little puffy, the ripples it made still pronounced more than they actually usually were. “Well, Brit,” I looked at her and said, “In a way, yo...
