Spitroasted Stories

I seek my husband, and feminine yelps scatter the birds from the secret garden. Peering through the clematis, she clings to the tree trunk, ploughed hard by Pierre. Tut, tut, only eighteen, with grass-stained knees as rampant loins slap her pert ass, and the crisis of her impending fate etched on her features. My beau looms forward, and her hungry mouth sucks on my possession. Kneading her breasts, Camille laps at her cli...

When a snowflake falls, there is beauty and tragedy; each is unique until it melts on the pavement. Wearing white and misty grey shrouds, black skeletal trees form a guard of honour. The blizzard mutes all noise as a mark of respect. It feels like the world is mourning, and in my life, I am. I could not tell him; I did not share my secret. Demure whites bleed onto the pavement, and peering into a shop window, the decorati...

The sway of her chestnut hair matches her ethereal whimpers. Impaled on my husband, with the countenance of an angel, she pleads for her second prize. Posed like the Sphinx, her lips lock around Pierre's thick shaft. Sitting thigh against thigh, I can feel his warmth. Camille looks across and we share our secret connivance. Sandwiched between two experienced women, his fresh meat twitches in our seductive caress. "Keep wa...

Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result. To be different meant I had to do something… unusual. We discussed it, Laurent and I, and a holiday at a naturist resort would be the difference we needed. On my first day, naked on the beach, the scent of hot sand is piqued by distant tobacco smoke, and I shiver in the heat with nerves. It is not because I am unattractive, I am not as curvaceous as some,...