I pretty much always knew I was bisexual. I remember sneaking glances of the beautiful women in my father’s Playboy magazines when I was younger. I felt that what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. Women were so attractive to me! When I hit my late teens I was chubby and shy. Most of the time I would check-out my girlfriends without them knowing; stealing glances in the showers of the high school gym. I bought my own porn mag when I turned 18, and by the time I hit college I was a regular at the adult store located a few blocks from campus.

Although I dated men and enjoyed straight sex whole-heartedly, I knew I was missing something in my sex life. Actually, a majority of my friends were guys as women confused me. When I found myself in a room with an attractive woman, I would become very shy and insecure. Men however, were easy to read, easy to flirt with, and easy to please. And men were always hitting on me, never women (at least not to my knowledge).

In college I dyed my hair jet black. It was shoulder length and made my green eyes really stand out. I am very feminine but not prissy. I have large 36D tits and stand about 5′7″ with a firm yet curvy figure. Of course I was into local college music and had a cool rocker-punk-geek style.

I had a string of college crushes involving girls; one of the first was a red-head named Sammie who played on the softball team at my university. She was smart, confident, with huge boobs and an infectious laugh. I remember showing her the first vibrator I ever bought (and wishing I could use it on her!). But I was too shy to make any moves on Sammie, and maybe she was too straight to make any moves on me. Either way, I needed a dominant woman who could seduce me because I was entirely too timid to risk ruining friendship by kissing a girlfriend. (more…)

I have a nice cosy set up. A large 80 inch TV, surround sound, hooked up through my stereo for that ‘special’ sound. I have a large black leather couch that I lay on while watching my special porn movies (its so easy to wipe down and clean once I’ve finished; if you know what I mean!!)

I close the curtains, and switch off the light. I pop my newest DVD into the player and ease myself onto the big couch. As I wait for it to load, I begin to undress. I start at the top, unbuttoning my shirt and slipping it off my shoulders. I then reach around and unhook my bra, releasing my big creamy white boobs. I cup them with both hands, pushing them up and at the same time pinching my nipples, twisting them lightly between my fingers, watching them instantly harden. I continue my journey, sliding my hands further down, past my tummy, stopping briefly to play with my belly ring, then going further. I hook my thumbs on either side of my skirt, then lift my ass off the couch and slide my skirt down. I spread my legs, looking down to see a small dark, wet patch on my panties. All this and I haven’t even touched my pussy or even started watching the movie! Oh god this is going to be good!
(more…)

I laugh to myself, of all people to want my son’s girlfriend. Here I am close to 42 years old. I know I’m good-looking and in great shape, but still, holding her in my arms looking down into her face, I cannot believe that this is all mine for the taking. Her telling me just a second before that she has never done this before and how much she wants to before she leaves for college. How she’s fantasized about me, about us.

Pressing her body up against mine, moving her hips against me. She looks up at me, closes her eyes and whispers that she wants a kiss. Swallowing deeply there’s no way I could resist. She’s gorgeous. A blonde, blue-eyed girl. Lean with incredible breasts. Breasts that are pressing against me, lips that were waiting . . . for me. I let her wait just one second more, yearning my kiss. Needing it. As I lower my head and claim those lips, a moan escapes her.

“Yes.” I think to myself. “The sweet taste of youth.” I haven’t had an eighteen-year-old since college. I’ve forgotten what it’s like. The taste, the smell, the freshness . . .
(more…)

It was a long weekend and the college dorm was quiet. My roommate Cindy, went home to her family, and most the other girls went away. I decided to stay behind and catch up on my term work. It was a hot summer day and I could not concentrate. I first lay on my bed and my mind started day dreaming. I thought about college, about the good looking guy who sat next to me in the lecture the day before and about how Cindy was such a confident, vivacious person, who attracted a lot of attention. She was totally the opposite of quiet, shy and low confidence me. She also had style and the looks to go with it. It was quiet without her.

The phone rang and I awoke from my daze. I got up to answer the telephone. It was Cindy’s phone ringing. I never made it on time and the answer machine went on. “Hi, Cindy, its Tommy just to remind you that I will see you later for the concertâ€?. I took no notice of the message, I was looking at Cindy’s framed photos on her desk. I had not been in Cindy’s room much and feeling bored I somewhat got curious and opened her clothes cupboard. (more…)

About six months ago I got my Associate’s Degree in criminal justice, hoping some day to hook up as a paralegal with a district attorney’s office. When the opportunity came up to work toward a Bachelor’s Degree, I decided to take a few more courses to see if I was serious enough about the subject matter to move on to even bigger and better things. I signed up for six credits at Colorado University, which meant four two-hour nights at school (leaving only Wednesdays free for me during the week). The course I enjoyed the most involved a history of serial killers. I had read most of Ann Rule’s books, so I knew a little bit about the subject, but Professor William Beacham had a knack of making each case history unique and interesting.

There were 12 of us in the class, eight men and four women. All of us, except for one woman, were in our early twenties. Meg appeared to be 36 or 37, but she was the one who provided a lot of inspiration for the class. She was really cute with dark-red hair that was cut short and tons of freckles. Her smile and her laughter were infectious. She had taken very good care of herself, as evidenced by her trim figure. She was smart as a whip and, more often than not, led the class discussions. I think the thing I liked about her the most was her sharp wit. She could make the whole class laugh with her humor. Professor Beacham made her his little “pet,� but it was obvious there was nothing more than a teacher-student relationship between them.

During a classroom break, I was sitting at a table by myself, hoping a cup of coffee would get my through the rest of the evening. Meg came into the break room and got a cup of chocolate from the vending machine. Looking around the room she noticed I was by myself. She politely asked if she could join me. I smiled and said, “Please do. Talking will stop me from going to sleep.�

She sat across from me. We introduced each other. Damn, she was cute as button. I had never been really good friends with anyone older than 30, but I liked her almost instantly. It wasn’t a sexual liking, by any means. I noticed her wedding ring, so I assumed she was straight anyway. Meg was just about the easiest person to talk to that I had ever met. And I liked the way she looked into my eyes when she spoke. She was an attentive listener as well.

“So what do you do for a living,� she asked.
(more…)

I thought this might be perfect for the start of the school year…

Mrs. Anderson. I’ve finished grading this week’s papers.”

“Thank you, you can set them on the corner of the desk. By the way, you’re still coming tonight aren’t you?”

I was hoping she wouldn’t remember. “I’m not sure. I was thinking about it. But I just don’t know.”

“You know how much it would mean to me.”

“I know. And I appreciate the invitation. But.”

“But what?” she cut me off. “What else could be so important that you can’t take one night off to have some fun?”
(more…)

Giggling, holding hands just so we won’t grope one another, we ran up the walk. Getting to the porch, I let go just long enough to grasp the keys and fumble with the lock. I double over with laughter as her hands close around my waist and I can feel her face buried in my hair, her laughter and perfume caressing my skin. The keys fall to the ground and we both reach for them. Still laughing, it becomes a mock tug-of-war until I sneak down and begin to nibble on her neck. She squealed, letting go of the keys. Somehow, I get the door open and then closed behind us. We collapse against the door, laughing, smiling, kissing, purring and sighing.

Our hands roaming, we relearn one another’s curves. I squeal with surprise and delight when my hands brush over and then trace her new nipple ring. She cooed again and again over my weight loss. Her lips are as sweet as ever, and tongue still as skilled. She breathed into my ear how luscious my neck still is, chiding me for staying away so long.

Sliding my hands under her shirt, she squirms with renewed giggles and I realize she is still ticklish. I slide the shirt off, over her head and then pulling her close as I remove the shirt from her arms. Our kisses change, become more fervent. Her hands crawl up my back, reaching for my bra. I pull away, stepping backward into the house. She rushes after me, trying to slide her skirt off, and finally pulling it off and throwing it at the chair. I pull my shirt off, letting it fall, nearly tripping on it. That sends us into peals of laughter, and then we shush each other, causing even more hilarity.

(more…)

It was a long deserted stretch of highway, miles and miles of nothing. Heather pulled off the interstate for gas. The gas station was there just off the off ramp, and a sign pointed to a town, but there was nothing else in sight. She pulled up to the pumps, and got out. A wave of hot dry dusty air rolled over her as she started filling her tank. Her attention was drawn to an old beat up truck, and a young couple arguing, just across from her.

The young man was yelling at the girl, ” Fine bitch! If that’s the way you want it!” The angry boy threw an old beat up duffle bag out of the truck. The girl, almost knocked over by it, regained her feet.

“Asshole! Good bye!” she yelled back, as the man stated the truck and drove off, leaving her standing there, in the blowing dust. “Shit” she said, and picked up the duffle, walking over to the door of the gas station and sitting down on an old beat up bench there.

Heather’s gas pump shut off, and she put the hose back up on the pump, and got her purse, walking to the door. “Are you ok, honey?” she asked the girl.
(more…)

OK, maybe I was a little naive. Here I was 18 and had never masturbated. I had had sex with a few guys, but just never did that to myself. My family was very verbal about their disapproval of it. So, I just never did it. I would hear the girls talking about it in school. I would just smile and nod along, like I knew it all. I never told any of my friends, not until Jessica.

She was a little younger than me and had just transferred from an all girl catholic school. Her parents had split up and she had moved with her dad and older brother here. I thought she was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. Her hair was a soft chocolate brown, which she wore in a long braid. She had large pale blue eyes that looked like they had already seen the world and all it had to offer. Her lips were her best facial feature. They were well formed, with a deep dip on top, and pouty. She looked like a little girl who hadn’t gotten her way. When I first met her, I wanted so badly just to see what those lips felt like. I’m not a lesbian or anything. I just like how girls are all soft and sweet. They’re nice to make out with.
(more…)

“Honestly Matt, I think we’ve gone beyond this jealousy thing, don’t you?” I’m scornfully staring at Jen’s husband to be after he suggested that I couldn’t be trusted alone with her on the night before the wedding.

“Yeah, well we all know how things were with you two before.”

“You mean, all three of us!” I retort and Matt goes red. “Forget it pal, Jen is my best friend, I’m her maid-of-honor. You know we haven’t screwed around on you. Relax. We’re just going to open a bottle of wine, watch a tear-jerking movie and get some sleep. You better get some sleep too, big day tomorrow.” The whole time I’m spinning him around and pushing him out the door. I can tell his resistance is playful now.

“Just be there on time!” calls Jen from the sanctuary of their apartment. Matt is staying overnight at his parents.

“I’ll be there snookem, honey bunny, cutsie wootsie…”

“Oh for fuck sake, get the hell out before you turn my stomach!” and I give his ass a tweak as I push him out the door.

Jen and I set our pasta dinner out on the table, filled our wineglasses up and toasted to her forthcoming marriage. We laughed and joked about our history together. We made promises for the future, to be friends forever.

We finally cleaned off the table, washed the dishes and topped our glasses up. While I set the movie up, Jen pulled out two wonderful silk negligees and asked my opinion which one she should wear tomorrow night. Jen has long silky straight blonde hair and I chose the shimmering gold number for her wedding night. Jen came back wearing the white satin and lace one. She twirled for me, striking various poses, pushing her hair up onto her head. I whistled and applauded until she collapsed beside me on the sofa laughing. I slipped into the bedroom and pulled out my pj’s too. I had brought two with me: cotton pant suite and a silk burgundy camisole and panty set. Seeing what Jen had on, I chose the camisole.
(more…)

The movie ended, and as the credits began to roll, Becky raised herself off the sofa to remove the tape from the VCR. That had been a pretty bad romantic comedy, and she wondered why her big sister Susan had bothered renting it in the first place. She popped the video back in its box and, since she wasn’t feeling at all tired, and it was such a novelty having the large downstairs TV all to herself for a change, she decided she might as well see what other movies Susan had rented. There was bound to be something better than the movie she had just sat through.

Susan and her best friend Gina were upstairs drinking a bottle of red wine and listening to music, enjoying the freedom of having Susan and Becky’s parents away for the night. Becky was sure they would come downstairs at some point and kick her off the sofa so that they could watch their movies alone, so she figured she might as well make the most of the time she had.

She found two other movies by the VCR: one was a well-known period drama which Becky instantly rejected as too boring. She picked up the other tape. The title meant nothing to her, but the wording seemed to refer to a pool party or something, and that sounded promising. Hoping for a fun teen movie, Becky slipped the tape into the VCR and settled herself back under her blanket on the sofa.
(more…)

“Hi - do you mind if we jog together?”

The female voice took me by surprise - I had not noticed another runner coming up behind me. But my heart pounded when I saw who drew up alongside me.

“Why, no, not at all - but I’m near the end of my run,” I replied, quickly drinking in this beautiful girl. Her blond hair pony was tailed through her college baseball hat, and she had the bluest, bluest eyes. I had seen her running before, and secretly fantasised about making out with her - the quality of guys where I’m finishing my degree in the Math department of a major university makes me glad I’m a happy bisexual.

“Me too” she answered, picking up my pace. “I thought we could just do a lap of the track, and then finish. Okay with you?”

“Sure,” I answered, trying to keep my breathing steady and not give myself away. We cut across the park and headed towards the athletics track, jogging easily together. “Had a good session?” I asked, pulling back to let her get through a gap in the wire fence ahead of me.

“Real good - I’m aiming to do a half-marathon in a couple of weeks, so I’m training quite hard.” She pulled ahead; her tanned legs were topped by her black running shorts which clung perfectly to her neat bottom. Squeezing sideways through the opening in the fence, her small breasts were in beautiful silhouette.
(more…)

What a day, I was making my way back across the paddock after letting my horse loose with the other horses. My face was still warm and flushed from the hard and fast gallop that has become customary on the home stretch, I know it can create bad habits in the mare but gee I can’t think of anything better than letting her stride out, air pumping through her lungs as stride by stride she pushes off with that powerful hindquarter.

It’s like a natural high and the adrenalin pushes the blood through my body at an alarming rate causing me to be able to hear my heart pumping extra hard and the wind is drawn in and out of my lungs, the tingly feeling it creates allover my own body is enough to carry me through the rest of the day.
(more…)

Heather and I had so much in common. We were both overachievers. We were both star athletes, and on the same teams no less: swimming and fencing. We both also made the honor roll every term, even though neither one of us studied very much. We just picked up things quickly. A classmate once asked me whether I had to study for hours every night to make the honor roll. I said, “What do they test you on here that you would need to actually study?” But Heather and I also saw nothing inconsistent in being both an overachiever and very feminine. Both of us know how to dress to make a boy’s mouth water, and we can flirt our way into or out of anything we choose to. Yes, Heather and I were almost exactly alike in every way. I guess that’s why we hated each other so intensely.

Surprised? It really makes sense when you think about it. Think of the really good friendships you’ve had or known about. Haven’t you noticed how people “specialize”? If you have two girlfriends, there’s either the really popular one and the wallflower, or the really smart one and the airhead, or the leader and the follower, or some such thing. Nobody wants to be in a group with someone else who’s “doing their routine.” So Heather and I hated each other from the first time we met in high school. (Oh, and by the way, my name’s “Jennifer,” although if I decide I like you I’ll let you call me “Jenny.”)

This story takes place in my senior year of high school, shortly after my eighteenth birthday. (Make that “our” eighteenth birthday. Heather was born only a week earlier than I was, it turns out.) We had been trying to outdo each other, competing with each other, and verbally abusing each other for the previous three years. It finally came to a head at a party one Friday evening. I saw her in the corner flirting a little bit with this cute but vacuous-looking guy. She was only flirting on “medium,” and this guy did seem stupid, which is a total turn-off, but the fact that Heather was showing some interest in him immediately made me decide to make a play for him. I was delighted by the thought of how angry it would make her if I stole him! So when he left her for a moment to get some more drinks, I intercepted him and started flirting on “high.” Boy, appearances really can be accurate. This guy was d-u-m. (Yeah, I know there’s a “b” on the end, but this guy wasn’t smart enough to merit the fourth letter.) But that just made my job easier. He seemed to have forgotten Heather in a few seconds. Unfortunately, she had looked across the room and seen me with him, and immediately cruised in for a counterattack.
(more…)

Nikki walked into the dark club with Pammy and Tommy. She knew it was a mistake coming out with them but they had insisted.

Having recently broken up with her boyfriend Matt, the young couple had taken it upon themselves to cheer her up and take her out with them to the various places they frequented. Nikki appreciated their kindness but knew that she would feel the way she always did when they went out in a threesome; left out or feeling like a third wheel. She decided tonight would be different. She was going to have fun and dance and get laid if she could. ‘That ought to make me feel better,’ Nikki thought to herself with a smile.

“Okay if we sit here?” Tommy asked the two women.

“Fine by me, but I don’t plan on sitting down all night. I’ve decided tonight is going to be the start of the new me. I’m going to enjoy myself and start living again. Right, I’ll get the drinks in. What would you both like?” Nikki asked them.
(more…)

Antonia and Miranda: College Roommates

Antonia was my roommate in college. I had such a crush on her, but I couldn’t tell her that. She worked as a waitress in one of those college hangouts where the girls wore tight blue jeans and low cut tops. The first time I went there to eat, and she was working, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had always known that Antonia was pretty, but decked out for this job where the prettier and flirtier you were, the better tips you made, I could tell that Antonia was raking in the dough. Or at least she should have been.

Antonia was by far the curviest waitress in the place. She had large amazingly curvaceous breasts. The kind that earns your boyfriend an elbow in the side, because he can’t help but turn and look. She also had hips. Not wannabe hips, but real knock me over, knock me out, put Jennifer Lopez to shame hips. She was not a skinny girl. No, she was a fine full-bodied woman. She had long dark hair, and wide dark eyes and round cheeks that dimpled when she smiled. She was at once cute, beautiful, sexy and pretty.

As roommates we were pretty familiar with each other, feeling comfortable changing our shirts in front of each other and stuff like that. Antonia usually wore a very basic and serviceable plain bra in cream, black or my favorite, brown which matched perfectly against her skin. Even without sexy underwear, Antonia’s breasts looked amazing.

My own breasts, which I had always considered to be big enough at a C-cup seemed insignificant when I looked at hers. I was filled with a mixture of envy and arousal. And then, guilt. How would she feel if she knew I was having these thoughts about her? How would she feel if she knew that every once in a while when I was masturbating, thoughts of her sometimes popped into my head? And when they did, they were so sudden and so satisfying that I found myself coming almost immediately?

(more…)

My friend Julie is really pretty. She is a true red head. She has a sprinkle of freckles across her cute face. Her lips are full and she has an enchanting smile.

I am half Native American (my father) and half Greek (my mother) I have dark Native American skin and even darker nipples. I have long jet black hair. Most people think that I look Mexican. Although my mom swears my features are more Mediterranean…like her. And she is sexy!

We are both seniors in high school. At eighteen, we’re both ready to move on to college. I am on our high school basketball team. Julie is a cheerleader. We are both athletic and our bodies show it.
(more…)

Pam Fender walked into her office on a Thursday morning, and hung her coat up on the rack. Moving to her desk, she deposited her bag beside it. Pulling her papers out, she prepared to lay them on top of the desk, her morning routine was automatic, just before her morning cup of coffee. That’s when she saw it. A little box, gift wrapped, complete with a little bow, sat in the middle of her desk.

She knew immediately who it was from and smiled with delight. Like a kid on her birthday, she eagerly unwrapped it. Inside she found a box with a clear cover showing two balls approximately an inch and a half in diameter. A note was also found inside.

“Good morning, sexy! I found these and thought you might enjoy them.
I do hope you use them today. Follow the instructions and have fun!
I can’t wait for you to tell me all about them tonight!

J”
(more…)

Several people have sent me emails asking why I no longer post any stories. It is a legitimate question and for which I do not have a good reason. So tonight I went far back into the archives and found a good story to repost for here tonight. I hope you enjoy it and if you would like me to continue to post stories leave a comment or send me an email. — Lori

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Lynn, a co-worker , and I were in New York City for the first time in our lives. We were there to work a week-long trade show for our employer. We knew each other from work but had no contact outside of the workplace. When we found out we were going to New York together, we started getting friendlier while planning a potentially exciting week for a couple of fat, rapidly approaching forty, married with children females. Well, not to mislead, we’re not really fat but both have a natural middle-aged spread. I have never been big, especially in the bust, so one advantage to putting on a little weight was an increase in cup size from a B to a C. My husband thinks I look sexier now than I did when we married 15 years ago. I have only known Lynn a couple of years, so I don’t know what she looked like before, but now she causes heads to turn. She is a very attractive blonde with big tits and a full rear-end, probably about 38D-26-38. All the men think she is very sexy and all of us gals hate her.
(more…)