Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Busty Charlee Chase



Before Charlee Chase dropped her bra, she attended Barbizon Modeling School and did mannequin modeling for department and swimsuit stores in Maryland and Delaware. Not exactly the right training for the wild and wooly world of naked modeling and porn.

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Monday, 16 September 2013

Exclusive

It's all here. All the evidence I need, right here in Lady Vixen's own computer. My God. All the allegations are true. Every last one.

Misconduct. Unreported resistance. Forged waivers. Fabricated permissions. Every one a gross violation of the Mind Control Regulatory Act of 2046.

Quickly I pop the data crystal into the port and let it extract the data. I lean back outside the soft glow of the screen, the only light save for the twinkling of the city outside the huge windows behind me.

My initial sense of indignation gives way to euphoria. I have it. My exclusive. I, Yvonne Fallon, will win the Pulitzer for this! An expose that will topple the multi-trillion dollar empire that is Lady Vixen Enterprises!

I did it myself. I get all the praise and all the glory. I tracked down every contact and lead. They call themselves mind controllers, but I manipulated them into leading me to this point. And now I will reap the reward.

I never let them get me into a position where they could put me under. Five years ago I went to a hypnotherapist to help me stop smoking, so I know the tricks. I know the techniques. I avoided them all. If they could not put me under, they could not plant triggers in me. They could not stop me.

I smile at my cleverness. I have succeeded where others have failed. No one before me ever got this far. And now I nearly have it all. I nearly have my exclusive.

The download is finished. I snatch the crystal from the computer and head around the side of the desk.

I stop when the lights abruptly come on.

"Now, fancy meeting you here, Miss Fallon."

I'm still blinking at the bright glare, but that low, sultry voice is unmistakable. It sends a small shiver through me. But I do not need to fear her. All her power resides with the ability to put me under, to control my mind. Otherwise, she is powerless.

"You cannot stop me, Miss Vixen," I tell her.

"Oh?"

That single syllable rivets my attention on her. My breath catches. She's beautiful. The vids don't do her justice. Midnight-black hair done in gentle waves over her shoulders and down her back. Shapely body wrapped in a tight red blouse, the buttons seemingly about to pop off over her bosom. Hip-hugging skirt. Silky black stockings that wrap her long legs like a second skin. Four-inch heel shoes, also red.

"If you try to use violence on me, you will make this worse," I tell her.

Lady Vixen smiles. Another little shiver goes through me. "Violence? Why would I use violence on you, Miss Fallon?"

I swallow. My heart is hammering in my chest. Why is she affecting me like this? I cannot be this nervous.

She steps further into the room. My eyes dart down to her long, lovely legs as they swing with each step, then rise to her hips as they sway in so sexy a manner back and forth. My breath quickens as she approaches. I feel flushed and back up a step. She circles around me, all the while giving me that smile and keeping her eyes on me.

I turn with her as she steps behind the desk and sits down. She leans back in her chair and steeples her fingers.

I don't understand.

I look towards the door to the office. It's open. I can leave. Free and clear, and with the evidence. She is making no move to stop me.

"Something the matter, Miss Fallon?"

I look back towards her. I'm panting lightly. I can't get myself to respond. What's wrong with me?

"You wanted to leave, did you not?"

"Leave?" I say in a small voice, like it's a foreign concept to me. "Yes."

"After all, you said yourself... " She leans forward. Her breasts shift under her blouse. She isn't wearing a bra. I feel a tingling sensation in my nether regions. "... I cannot stop you."

I take a few deep breaths but it does little to calm me. "No, you can't."

Her lips curl into a chilling, wicked grin. "I won't have to," she says in a husky voice.

I feel my body quiver and a sensual sigh escapes my lips. Slowly, with difficulty, I pull my eyes from her and turn towards the door.

With her no longer in my sight, it's a little easier. I start for the door. My legs feel heavy. Already I know something is very wrong.

"But if you go, you will not know desire as it can truly be experienced."

I stop. I start to tremble. I feel hot all over. It concentrates between my legs.

I wait for her to say something else. It's like... it's like I want her to say something else. Like I'm anticipating it. No, this... this isn't right.

Finally, I manage to move again. It's even harder. The door seems miles away.

"Do you know what it is like to experience intense pleasure, Miss Fallon?"

It comes over me like a wave, softly flooding my body. I quiver as it feels like ripples over my skin. Tiny hot flashes play in my sex and on my nipples. When I try to move again, I feel steamy moisture in my pussy.

I don't understand. What's happening to me? I never went under. I never did. These can't be triggers. They can't...

"Or to feel your body consumed with mind-numbing lust..."

I stagger and fall to my knees, and then on all fours. My straight, blond hair falls to either side, brushing the floor. The data crystal has fallen from my hand. My pussy and my nipples throb, sending more waves that crash through my body. I can barely think. I can't move. All I can do is feel, feel the intense sexual pleasure overcoming me.

"Or to truly let yourself go and experience pure, erotic bliss..."

I cry out as I cum, my cunt convulsing, the intensity of my throbbing ecstasy blocking out all other thoughts. My orgasm takes my body and my mind. For that moment, there is nothing else. There is not even me, only a soul drowning in a sea of pleasure.

I have no idea how much times passes. When my climax fades, I am left panting, my pussy still aching for more, and Lady Vixen standing nearby.

I shift my eyes to her legs. Her wonderfully sexy legs. I could keep watching them forever.

Suddenly I feel a touch. It is very light, a single finger pressing into my back below my neck. She slides the fingertip along my body. Even through my blouse, I shiver at her touch, a small, quavering moan escaping between my barely-parted lips. My pussy throbs in need again. I desperately try to hold on to coherent thought. It is a losing battle.

"I've had this company for ten years, Miss Fallon," Lady Vixen says. I moan at the sound of her sultry voice. "Do you know how I manage this? By knowing who my enemies are. As early as possible. As early as... oh... five years before they may be ready to strike at me."

She reaches the small of my back. I'm shaking with desire. She places a hand on one of my ass cheeks and squeezes. I cry out as I cum again. More of my will slips away. Before, I could think of escape but could not do it. Now I cannot even think it. And as my orgasm fades, still I crave more.

She removes her hand. I whimper at the loss of her touch.

"Stand up, Miss Fallon."

I want to resist her. I manage it only for a few seconds. My will is too weakened by the intensity of the pleasures she has shown me, and the anticipation of more. I slowly rise to my feet, my legs trembling, my pussy hot and wet.

She speaks to me again. "A hypnotherapist. One who can be properly influenced. One who sees it very worth his while to agree to a few... adjustments... to the therapy a very ambitious young reporter. A reporter that just might get it in her head to do a story on me someday. Undress yourself, Miss Fallon."

I begin to take off my clothes. At the same time I know this to be wrong, that this is humiliating me beyond belief, I also feel renewed waves of pleasure ripple through my body in anticipation of being naked and helpless before her.

"And as a result..." My blouse and bra fall away. She squeezes one of my breasts, and I shudder with erotic delight. "... a single trigger phrase can put you back into a deep trance at any time, and leave you with no memory of it ever happening."

She pauses and whispers hotly and huskily into my ear, "Guess how we used that... all your little meetings... all your contacts... each putting one more trigger into your pretty, blond head..."

I whimper, both in intense, burning sexual need, and in utter despair as I push the rest of the clothes from my body.

I stand before her, struggling to hold on to my mind, to stop myself from falling completely away. I hold on to my thoughts viciously, reminding myself of why I am here, and what I had intended to do.

Lady Vixen touches my cheek gently with her hand. I whimper again, begging softly for a more intimate touch. She smiles at me and cups my chin, lifting my gaze to hers. I look into her gorgeous eyes of liquid violet fire.

"You wanted your exclusive, Miss Fallon, didn't you?"

I am compelled to answer her. "Y-yes..." I say in a soft, breathless voice.

"Then you should thank me for giving it to you."

"Thank you... but... you? You did... ?" I could barely hold more than three words in my head any given moment. I could not speak above a whisper.

"Oh, yes. I led you here every step of the way. It was easier to eliminate you that way."

A sense of cold dread flitted through the part of my mind not consumed by lust and desire. "Then... the data... it's fake... ?"

"Oh, no, Miss Fallon. I said I gave you an exclusive, and I did. Everything is true. Every bit of it."

"You... you're enslaving women... against their wishes..."

Her lips curled into a wicked grin. "Why, Miss Fallon, you're not up on the latest psychological research. All women harbor a secret desire to be subservient... to be a slave... to be submissive..."

A low, soft moan escapes my lips. I feel what little of my will remains draining away as she triggers that last part of my transformation. And in a cruel final twist, my memories of me, and what I had come to do, remain with me. They remain locked away, unable to resist the now all-consuming desire to submit, to be obedient, and to experience pleasure.

She touches my pussy. I cry out sweetly as I cum, beautiful sensual delight radiating through my body, my mind turning to complete and utter bliss.

Her words come to me as if in a dream. "All I do is bring that out. As I have with you. Isn't that right, Miss Fallon?"

"Yessss," I breathe, and smile softly at her.

Lady Vixen pulls out her cell phone.

"This is Lady Vixen. Come to my office. I have another Pleasure Unit for you. She just needs a small bit of conditioning. Most of the work is done."

She snaps it closed and looks at me.

"Think of it this way, Miss Fallon. This is another chance at an exclusive." Her lips curl into a smirk. "At least that's the reason that will appear on your permission form. A five year commitment. The inside story on being a sex slave. That should be long enough for the pleasure that you experience between now and then to leave a permanent impression on your mind. It will be a little harder for you to say anything disparaging about our company with the lingering memories of so many wonderful orgasms permanently etched into your brain."

She pauses.

"And who knows... you may like being a Pleasure Unit so much, you'll just want to do it again. And we will more than happy to oblige you."

She steps back over to her desk for a moment. When she returns, she carries something small and cylindrical, with rounded ends and thin straps.

"Spread your feet apart."

I obey her eagerly. She presses the cylinder to my pussy, making me moan. She secures the straps around me so that the object remains pressed to me.

"This will keep you quiescent until the boys from conditioning arrive."

She taps the object once with her finger. It vibrates softly. I moan constantly as I am overcome with little waves and ripples of erotic delight. Occasionally, I cum softly. I am in ecstasy. I never want it to stop.

And yet... somewhere inside me... a small chill radiates through my body and mind over what I had just become.

And all for an exclusive I will never be able to report.


-------
The End


Stormy Lynne's shocking little porno



The last time we saw Stormy Lynne, she told us, 'My family would be aghast if they saw me here. The people back home in Cincinnati wouldn't believe what they were seeing!' Well, if they wouldn't believe Stormy Lynne's spread-pussy shots and the video in which she fucks the cabana boy, they're going to have a whole lot of trouble believing this one: Stormy Lynne, dressed in the perfect fuck-toy outfit of bra, sexy panties, stockings and a garter, gets fucked every which way by a pro porn stud and ends up with her face covered in cum. Stormy is a 46-year-old divorcee who lives in Hollywood, California. She measures 34DD-24-33. 

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Sha Rizel: Sha's Oiled Boobs Show



Sha Rizel likes to dress to show off her ultra-rare, amazing figure. Only a few girls are as super-slim and naturally big-busted. Valory Irene, Venera and Merilyn Sakova are in this league. In this pictorial and matching video, Sha couldn't have picked a tighter tank top and pair of Daisy Dukes. 'Men love my big boobs, and I like how my breasts look in pretty clothing,' says Sha. 'I like that I have big boobs and a thin waist. It is a lot of fun and it looks nice.' Maybe one day, Sha can get over to the States but until then, we'll head over the Atlantic.

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The Spa

It was a Wednesday night, and the hotel pool was deserted -- no screaming, splashing kids, no hippos in one-pieces. Just me, lounging in the Jacuzzi, trying to read while keeping the water from splashing on my paperback. Yeah, stupid, I know, but I was bored... I'd negotiated the hallways and elevators in sweatpants over my swimsuit, and now, having determined that the place saw little or no traffic, I was trying to use the fancy facilities that the hotel charged an arm and a leg for.

I looked up when they came in; it was a couple, watching me out of the corners of their eyes while they hit the towel rack for two apiece. Actually, I'd seen them pause at the door and discuss it before coming in, but I'd ignored them then, waiting to see if they would commit to anything. I was prepared to leave, but not without a request...

They wandered over and I got a closer look. The woman was maybe forty, one of those beach drapes covering her swimsuit. She wasn't huge, but she wasn't tiny -- somewhere in the well-padded middle range, mouse-brown hair showing streaks of silver AND gold. He was tall and lanky -- almost wasted- looking -- and balding on top, but he combed what he had back over his head smoothly, and it looked okay. He'd worn a T-shirt over his swim trunks to get through the hallways in.

As they got closer, I discovered an anomaly -- and it confirmed my belief that I knew what was up. On top, the woman's beach drape covered nothing -- there was no swimsuit top beneath it. I glanced away while I decided whether I was a big chicken or not, then put down my book.

In my experience, it isn't a party until the woman says it is -- and they're generally chicken. I could surrender my place or drive them off, or... what? What would work? I looked up at them; the woman was losing her pluck -- reality was trumping her little fantasy...

That was it! Although they generally hold the keys to the situation, it's considered impolite to challenge them directly, largely because they WILL cut and run, so I addressed him while focusing on them both, "All right, you're not kidding anybody -- I know the little fantasy that brought the pair of you down here. I ALSO know, though, that in that fantasy you weren't alone..."

The man went poker-faced -- and the woman blushed to a fine, medium red from her hairline to the place where her skin disappeared below the beach drape -- and, theoretically, well beyond.

'Bingo!' I thought. Whether they'd discussed it or not -- and I was betting that if they HAD, they'd lied to each other -- both of their individual versions of this encounter included another male. The woman turned her head and opened her mouth, but her significant other shook his head, so she closed it and looked back at me, still hugely embarrassed.

There are limited opportunities to get control of a sexual situation from a woman in this day and age -- unlike the vast majority of history -- but I'd gambled on one of them. A direct challenge will sometimes cut through the bullshit -- because it's a male-male thing, the woman instinctively gives up control. That's what happened here; the guy eyed me for a few seconds, neither of us giving anything away, then muttered to his woman, "Do it."

Bang! The shoe was on the other foot. Now she was obligated -- AND off the hook for the decision. Biting her lip, she reached down and pulled the beach drape over her head.

If I was making a porn video, she would have had a pair of monster augmented jugs on her chest, pointing straight out like a couple of rounds from an artillery piece -- and almost as firm. Welcome to the real world; she sported a pair of somewhat shapeless B to C cup breasts that appeared to have slid down her chest just a bit. The initial assessment I got was brief, though, because once that drape was off she was in a tearing hurry to get down into the water. I shifted to my right so she had somewhere to go once she got down the ladder and she headed for the point opposite, going neck deep as soon as she could -- which was a bit hard, since when you sat down properly the water topped out at about nipple level.

I shifted my attention to the guy as he followed her down the steps. Why? Because continued challenge kept the ball in his court, and that was where I wanted it. That being the case, I made sure they got equal time; I didn't ogle her any more than I eyed him -- and I kept the poker face that said, "You guys don't have the guts..."

The first solid response to this I got was that he pulled her onto his lap. This thoroughly defeated her attempts to hide her breasts, but she didn't fight it. Even I could tell from how her eyes widened that he had pressed an erection against the crack of her ass. He also neatly scotched any effort on her part to cover her breasts with her hands by trapping her arms with the arm he drew her onto his lap with. Given the options of fighting her man and making a scene and showing me her breasts, she chose the latter, blushing as I made a point of examining them.

Having delivered the situation solidly into male control, I sat back to await developments. They weren't long in coming; leaning up to eye me, he whispered in her ear for a moment -- and she relaxed and settled back against him, the tension seeping out of her. From her reaction, I could pretty much guess what he told her -- something on the order of, "He's right, you know. It's more fun this way." Of COURSE they wanted witnesses -- else why bother to wander down here to have sex in a public place? Once she got past that admission, then the REAL fun began. Settling back, she even smiled a little and took the opportunity to arch her back a bit. The game was on, now, fully -- she was in exhibitionist mode. I smiled just a bit to encourage further activity.

Watching me, he reached around her to collect a breast and maul the nipple; both of her areolas were crinkled masses and she was showing a half- inch of Number One HB pencil eraser-sized nipples -- not your standard stuff, but the big ones on the fat pencils that first-graders use. In the process, he freed her arms; that fight was over. She sucked in air through distended nostrils and put her head back into the juncture of his head and shoulder. I nodded appreciatively, congratulating him on his control of things -- even though we both knew that I had opened the door.

This went on for a couple of minutes. She watched me watch him play with her titties through lowered lids, while he watched me to see how far he could go before I attempted to get in on things. I knew that this wasn't the point where I could invite myself yet, though -- they weren't committed, yet, even though they WERE standing in the doorway. No, they needed to be farther along...

I pretended not to notice when her hand went between her legs, knowing that if I failed to react, she could kid herself that I hadn't seen it or the subsequent movements of her arm that said she was masturbating. Instead, I eyed him, letting HIM know I knew with a quirk of my lips. He grinned; suddenly, we were a conspiracy. The alliances had shifted; it was now male against female. Now all we had to do was wait until she was too aroused to argue and we could step things up -- and she was doing a good deal of THAT work herself!

When she started backing her ass into his crotch rhythmically, it was time to move on. He whispered in her ear momentarily, got a nod while she watched me warily, then he gently shifted her to a position beside him. Then he made adjustments under the water and his trunks surfaced, to be placed nonchalantly on the spa edge and worked under a towel, one-handed.

"Now you," he murmured. It was the first thing he'd said in a while loud enough for me to hear. Watching me like a hawk, the woman went through the gyrations necessary to remove her suit bottoms under water, then did as her man had, hiding them under her beach cover. That done, she returned to his lap, being careful about how she settled there. What he did with his hand was a dead giveaway, though; he was holding his cock down so she could sit with it in her crotch as she settled onto his lap. They weren't fucking yet, but they were going to.

I know what you're thinking -- "Okay, NOW you get out of your trunks, too, right?"

Wrong. It was still too early. I would have been inviting myself, and while it would have been more difficult, it would still have been possible for them to disengage -- and it would have been irritating enough to them that the guy might even decide to take a swing at me for messing things up. No, it was time to settle back and wait for them to move things to the next level. The most I could do -- and I did it -- was to smile encouragement, settling back and relaxing and watching.

The woman eyed me, smiling, having called my bluff. She was fully into the situation, now, and actively demonstrating how brave she was. I encouraged this by smiling a little sheepishly, letting her think she had the upper hand. This egged her on; she started being more obvious about what she was doing, which at this point was holding her man's cock against her pussy while she slid back and forth on it. They were dry-humping, technically -- but in a VERY wet environment...

This didn't last long; they were both hot and he was hard and it wasn't as if he hadn't been there before. There was no good reason to fool around too much, so after less than a minute she raised herself a bit, fumbled with her hand to position his probe at her opening, and settled onto him, grinning triumphantly.

Water IS wet --but it isn't necessarily the perfect lubricant, by any stretch. I watched them discover this and work through it. I'd done this when I was younger and I knew that the up-side was that he could feel every fold of her inner lining. In a pool, the down-side would have been water temperature -- but here in the spa they sidestepped that problem neatly. The initial surprise over with, she began rising and falling on his cock, enjoying my discomfort.

... Except that I wasn't REALLY that uncomfortable. On the other hand, the time had come when I could move my end forward; they were now fully engaged. It was unrealistic for them to expect me to do nothing at this point -- in fact her eyes challenged me to react. I did as expected, sliding a hand under water to rub my stiffened cock, which pleased them both no end -- her in particular.

Having cleared that hurdle, I moved on to the next; I worked my way out of my trunks and placed them with my other clothing and my towel. The woman absolutely loved this; having demonstrated that she was a sexual animal, she wanted to be considered desirable -- and watching me play with myself while she fucked her man was the confirmation that she desired. I became more and more obvious about it, knowing that she wasn't going to be pretending to be grossed out by it at this point -- and she wasn't; instead, she watched me with avid eyes.

I stood, leaning back against the side of the spa, which left me fully exposed, jacking my meat. She loved it, watching me while she bounced up and down on her lover's lap, holding her breasts to keep them from jiggling too much. After a bit, she went from just holding her breasts to cupping them for presentation, a clear tease. I reacted to it, smiling, but it was time to check back with her old man; either he was going to let me call her bluff or he wasn't. I was pretty safe at this point; if he was going to be jealous and possessive, we shouldn't have gotten to that point, but you never know... Watching him, I made the move to get vertical and close the distance; he didn't freak, so I slowly moved forward until she was within reach.

She surrendered her breasts to me immediately, dropping both hands to my hard-on to service it while I cupped her breasts and worked her nipples. She was seriously agitated; she leaned forward and grunted, "Kiss me!" I flicked a glance at her lover for confirmation, leaned in and tried to match her bounce. Her lips opened on contact and I drove my tongue into her mouth -- and she threw a cum, right then and there.

Now, in case you didn't get it before, this was not a babe; she wasn't beautiful, by any means. The breasts and the hair I've already described; add a bit of a belly and some cellulite dimples on thick thighs, a receding chin... I could go on. But she was excited -- and that made her exciting! Young guys sometimes miss this -- or they take it in context and don't really surface it as a life lesson: What you'll look at and call a babe and what you'll fuck are two vastly different things. There are a ton of reasons for this, but the biggest one is that if YOU think she's a babe, so do a zillion other guys and the line is just too long. On the other hand a chick who shows an active willingness to fuck will get your attention even while you're telling your buddies what a skank she is and how you wouldn't fuck her with their dicks. We're just not wired to pass up pussy -- and we're not wired to walk away when a woman is getting off right in front of us. Add a hand on your dick, and I KNOW you're not going anywhere! And so, neither was I...

She tried to suck my tongue out by the roots while drifting here and there, supported by her old man while her arms and legs didn't work very well, interspersed with moaning into my mouth. Oh, it was VERY clear that she'd hit her peak! My cock got stone hard, but the action was still at one remove...

In a bit, she got control of herself and backed away from the kiss, then propped her head on my shoulder and gasped in my ear, "Pull them... twist them... hurt them..." adding, "God, that's good..." when I did as she asked and mauled her nipples. In the meantime, she was jerking me off to beat the band. "This is sooo hot!" she gasped. I was eye to eye with her old man, but he was busy, too, getting off on the whole thing, fucking up into her to beat the band, the look on his face distant as he watched his nut approach through his mind's eye.

She had magic hands; no doubt I'd have shot all over her stomach if the water hadn't interfered. As it was, I enjoyed it a lot, caught up as I was in their excitement. We all went a couple of minutes without changing much, her alternating between sucking on my neck and panting and moaning in pleasure while she massaged my cock. I could tell that she was approaching another cum when she started panting hard and gasped, "Crush them! Tear them off!"

I felt bad about it, but I'd seen this before, so I clamped down on her nipples as hard as I could. She gave out a wail and bit my neck and was off again, jouncing and gasping and making happy grunts -- and squeezing the living shit out of my cock! I bore it as best I could; her old man tried to be sympathetic, but he was pretty busy, so his, "You all right?" was pretty distant. I nodded and he forgot me, basically -- which made sense, since he was next in line to get a nut. We went about another minute and he gathered himself and doubled up on her for half a dozen strokes, then started grunting, red-faced -- and we both knew he was done.

At that point, the world started leaking back into out little bubbling bubble. The woman started it by looking up and freezing in shock. "Oh, shit!" Then she giggled...

It was all happening behind me, so I turned to look. The pool area shared a glass wall with the exercise center; there had been some thirty- something chick in there on a treadmill trying to walk off her saddlebags for fifteen or twenty minutes before the couple had joined me in the Jacuzzi. She was still there, walking -- except she had her head cranked around a hundred and twenty degrees so she could watch us with big eyes.

Sometimes you just have to go with the flow; I smiled and waved -- and she turned away, obviously embarrassed.

"Come on, Baby, get up..." the guy muttered, and the woman did so -- but she didn't let go of my cock, which I considered a good sign. I hung close, making it unnecessary for her to remove her hand -- hey, do I LOOK stupid?

She turned to her man and solidified things, telling him, "We owe him -- or at least, I do."

The guy looked a little surprised. "Are you sure?" The woman looked a little diffident, but she nodded. He turned to me and shrugged, asking, "You want to go up to our room?"

This was no time to make a show of thinking about it -- but I had a flash. "Since we're doing the spa experience, why don't we try the sauna?"

The woman had this 'deer in the headlights' look as she asked, "There's a sauna?"

"Well, there's one off the men's locker room," I replied, proud of the fact that I'd done a thorough reconnaissance. "There's probably one in the ladies', too, but that would kind of defeat the purpose if we split up by sex..." I grinned. "Besides, there is as little traffic in there as there is in here -- but there is always the possibility that someone will happen along and spice things up..."

She giggled, and I knew she was sold; one look at him and I knew he was, too, but he said, "Which one, then?"

"Better do ours," I replied. "If a woman happens on us, she'll likely scream."

"Okay." That was our woman, agreeing -- and since she was the one who would have to explain why she was in the men's lockers, her vote carried.

"Follow me," I said, and we gathered up our discarded clothing and wrapping ourselves in spa towels (the woman using two, one above and one below), we headed for the men's locker room. The route caused us to pass through the exercise center; the woman with the saddlebags watched us owlishly as we passed through. I smiled back at her pleasantly and we proceeded to the men's locker room as if nothing whatever was amiss.

"Why do you think they separated the saunas?" the woman asked while I turned on the lights, timers, and such to get the thing going.

"Probably because by convention people usually get frog naked to go in -- or just use a towel," I replied, grinning, knowing that I was adding to the forbidden excitement. Both she and her man grinned back.

We didn't fart around and get social -- we were there to fuck -- and maybe get caught doing it. Whatshername, (I never found out what it was), spread a towel on the wooden bench, climbed up on it, and looked back at me expectantly. We weren't there for foreplay, either -- everybody was warmed up. I took the hint and knelt up behind her, one leg on the bench, and nosed my cock into her puffy pussy. There was no problem getting in.

She was loud -- deliberately, I think. After her second bout of screams, her man stuck his dick in her mouth to keep her quiet -- she seemed to like that. He got to maul her nipples and fuck her face while I handled the 'tough' job...

It was good pussy -- I fucked and fucked and fucked and I enjoyed the living Hell out of it. I TOLD you that looking and fucking are two different things! Another issue that arises in connection with this is that a less than Grade A looking chick usually fucks better; she appreciates the attention and she shows it. In my experience, Grade A looking stuff only LOOKS good -- they tend to ride their looks and don't deliver on any other dimension -- AND they cost you an arm and a leg... Anyway, the upshot was that this was probably the only time in her life that Whatshername was going to be serviced by two men -- and she was making the most of it -- to my benefit! When the time came, after an extremely satisfying fuck, I blew a HUGE load in her twat, then soaked my dick in her while her old man finished up in her mouth.

They got organized after that pretty quickly; she collected her stuff and bent to kiss me, eyes shining. "That was GREAT!" she exclaimed. "Thank you! That was even better than either of us imagined, I think!"

I was suitably gracious and suitably bashful -- not out of any fakery, I really AM bashful -- and I stood there waving as the pair of them departed, wrapped in towels and carrying their bathing gear. Then I went back inside and plopped my naked ass on the bench to relax and enjoy the aftermath of a pretty decent experience.

About five minutes went by, then I heard this "Helloooo..." I was still trying to decide whether to respond when a face appeared at the window in the sauna door. I recognized the face; it belonged to the chick on the treadmill -- the one with the saddlebags she was trying to walk off. Her eyeballs lit on my still-gooey dick and devoured it, then the door popped open. "What were you guys doing?" she asked breathlessly, glancing around before closing the sauna door behind her.

"Come on, Honey," I retorted, "You know what we were doing!"

"Here?" Obviously, she was getting off on the whole thing.

"Yes, here," I replied, standing. "You're overdressed -- this is a naked sauna." I reached for the zipper of her track suit.

The sauna was too hot and she was already sweaty from her workout, so we ended up adjourning to her room to fuck. Don't tell me that chicks who are traveling don't look for strange dick; generally, they're too chicken to find it, though. Alicia certainly WOULD have been, without the encouragement of the anonymous couple! As for the saddlebags, well, sometimes a big ass enjoys a big dick -- I rode that shit off and on for three days -- including in the Jacuzzi...


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The End

A Shot of Jenson



Let's just get this out of the way right now: Alura Jenson is a freak. Seriously, this girl loves to fuck, so if you aren't ready to go hard all day and night, you aren't the dude for her. She needs a real man. A man's man. You know, a guy who can manhandle her. A man with a little hair on his chest. 'I love men with chest hair,' Alura says. 'I just like to play with it with my fingers after a good, long fuck. I'm also really into three-ways. Some day I'd like to be the grandmaster of a gigantic orgy.' We'd love to be a part of that, but for now, we're satisfied with having Alura all to ourselves.

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Sunday, 15 September 2013

The Gold Girl In Boots



We don't see a lot of big-chested redheads. Cherry Brady. Jolie Rain. Destiny Rose. And then there's Desiree. The New Yorker measures 42-28-36 and wears a DDD-cup bra. But she didn't hit those numbers when she first posed in the late '90s. A TSG photographer approached Desiree on Pompano Beach. She was vacationing with friends. "I was in a little, thong bikini and a very tiny top, "Desiree recalled. "Everything was kind of hanging out all over the place. He told me that he liked my boobs and I said thank you and I grabbed and squeezed my boobs. And then he asked me if I wanted to do a photo shoot. And I asked him what kind of photo shoot, and he told me it was nude. I was not very sure, so he gave me his card, and after a few drinks, I decided to call him and do it. My girlfriends were all like, 'Are you going to do this?' and I knew I was going to do it. I was ready to try nude modeling.

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