Last Time

Megan (serenity_meg2000@yahoo.com) [ebook_store ebook_id=”12089″] I stood looking over the steep overhang. It was gorgeous. The valley below opened up into a serene landscape of greens and blues. The latter was the creek, issuing from a beautiful waterfall, cascading from the rocks half a mile to my left. It wasn’t large by any means, but its beauty at that moment stole a beat from my heart. I couldn’t breathe. The sheer cliff beneath me dropped several hundred feet straight down before

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Retribution

Robin (robin2003@clara.co.uk) It took Jon nearly a year to arrange it, but now his careful planning and meticulous timing were coming to fruition. Having past the wrought iron gates and driven down the grass covered gravel drive, the end game was now in full swing, like a runaway juggernaut, it was unstoppable. He could picture when it all started, the re-run going through his mind’s eye as he drove towards destiny. It seemed it’s one of those days when anything

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Doggy Juan

Moe Lester The next evening after Angela is out on yet another date with a different guy, Chloe’s study abruptly ends by the sound of scratching on the sliding glass door just a few feet from where she’s sitting, accompanied by a low, insistent whining. With a little cry of joy, the blonde jumps from her chair and moves quickly to the door, sliding it open without hesitation. Sure enough, there stands Sean and Buddy! “Thought I’d let Buddy do

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Dogged in the Dirt

adamlily1972 I’m hunched in the brush, miles into the forest, the brook quietly babbling behind me. I have a clear view of the packed-dirt pathway, the bright summer sun beating down on it. I’m wearing camouflage, which feels ridiculous. I’m no soldier, and I’m not a hunter—not of animals, anyway—so the camo feels like dress-up. But I can’t be seen. If I’m seen, the venture isn’t exactly over, but it won’t be as successful as it could otherwise be. And

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A Horse Story for the Ladies

Doggie2 (donwalk@hotmail.com) I am a 38-year-old woman who was raised on a farm in the Deep South. Ever since I saw one of our horses fucking a mare, I have fantasized about a horse fucking me. I am married, and my husband has no idea of my cravings for a horse cock. I love to masturbate and do several times a week. At night when my husband is fucking me, I let my mind wander to my secret fantasy, me

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Nice Horsey

Anonymous Author The four girls plopped out in the hayloft. All were naked. All were juicy between the legs. All had their faces smeared with pussy cream. “God,” Patsy gasped. She sat up and looked at the three older girls. Ashley smile broke across her face, “You girls… whewwww!” Ellen sat up, laughed, “We got a great new member, right?” Tracy nodded, drooling as she stared hotly at Patsy’s large, ripe tits. “It’s just a shame I’m not going to

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Vanessa Loves Horses

Mike Thrasher Vanessa was a stunning brunette of 28 with long hair (to her waist) and brilliant green eyes that flashed fire if I went beyond what she was prepared for. I always took that expression as a signal to back off and build her up a little more before going ahead with whatever it was I wanted her to do. Her body is perfect. She tended to think of her shape as ‘too hippy,’ but it seemed just right

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Cleaning Time

adamlily1972 “Hey, you promised you’d pick up the place.” My wife, being my wife. I played dumb and looked up distractedly from my laptop. “Uh?” She looked sad, annoyed. “The place. While I was working. You said you’d pick it up.” She gestured around the living room. Plates, bottles, wrappers, dust. The hair of Gunther, our black lab. I am sure it smelled of me, too. I pretty much lived in this room and didn’t go much of anywhere these

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Doggone Good

slick chick “You did what?” I asked Jim, in total shock. “You heard me. I fucked the dog while you were gone.” ***** And here’s how we got to that point: My boyfriend, Jim, and I were laying in bed together that afternoon, buck naked, and pawing away at each other’s private parts, getting ready to have some serious sex. And I should mention that my pussy was already unusually moist. I had just come back from spending a whole

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Heinz 57

Ouirup4it (ouirup4it@yahoo.co.uk) My names Lesley, it was the summer of 1973; I was twenty-two, size ten and a good figure, in my second year teaching. My husband still a student was working all hours that God sent in the summer holidays. We ran a beat-up convertible, which he was slowly restoring, to pristine glory. I was free all day, having great fun racing around with the hood down all over the town. At weekends, he made regular visits to a

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