Linda held her mouth tight over Rink’s hardon as it filled her mouth with white hot cum, and as the last jets dripped from his dick, he exclaimed, “Baby, you do that like no other bitch I ever had the pleasure of fucking!” Linda swallowed the juicy liquid and looked at her lover with bright happy eyes. She always loved it when Rink would compliment her sexual proficiency, and lately he had been complementing her plenty! He loved getting head, so she put everything she had into it just to get his approval. She felt very lucky indeed to have a boyfriend like Rink, and while she was only eighteen and still in high school, he was twenty eight and working a full time job at the tire factory on the edge of town. She knew some of the women that worked out there, and Rink surely could have pick of any of them, but Rink always told her that age didn’t necessarily make you a good fuck, and that she was better than most of the other woman he had ever had! Without a dad around the house, Linda was the perfect target for someone needing a father figure in her life, and guys like Rink just seemed to have a sixth sense in smelling out the particularly vulnerable young women on whom to prey on.
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Month: December 2009
RAVISHED
“Are you sure you want to go,” Jeff asked Gail, “I hear it gets pretty wild, and you’re never really sure how far things are going to go.” Gail took a sip of her soda, leaned back in her chair, and replied, “Oh, come on, how wild could it be, it should be fun, I’m game if you are.” Jeff stared down at the beautiful young attorney, while all the while thinking that it was only their second date and a night at an underground sex club might not be exactly the right thing to do. “Well,” she said, “is it yes or no!?!” “Uh, sure, Gail,” he replied, “yeah, we’ll grab a pizza and after work and then, well, you know, we’ll do it.” “Good,” she replied, “now get outa here, I’ve got a ton of work to do and if you’re smart,” she said wickedly, “you’ll get going on yours.”
“Mmmm, good pizza,” Gail offered while climbing into Jeff’s new car, “so, where is this place of wonder you’re taking me to!?!” “It’s down by the docks,” he replied while pulling smoothly into traffic, “inside of an old abandon warehouse, they change the location from time to time in case the cops get too suspicious.” “Sounds more exciting by the minute,” she replied flippantly, “I hope it lives up to its billing.” “Gail,” he said softly, “are you sure you wanna go through with this, I heard it gets pretty rough in there, and well, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” “Why Jeffery,” she said in a mocking tone, “if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were worried about me.” “Okay,” he replied, “don’t say I didn’t warn you,” and they made the rest of the trip in silence.
Jeff turned onto Port St. and said to Gail, “We’re looking for number 318, see anything like that on any of those buildings?!?” “Uh, it’s so dark I can barely see, wait a minute, that one said 511, it’s a good two blocks more,” she replied, “it’s up there, I can see some cars parked under that street lamp.” Jeff found a spot about a half a block from the club and the two of them walked arm in arm the rest of the way. There was a bouncer standing by the front door with a flash light, checking id’s, and seeing as how Jeff and Gail were in their late twenties, he just nodded his head and let them pass! Once inside, there was makeshift ticket booth set up, and a sign over the top that read, “Men $100.00-Couples $150.00-Single Women Free”. “Wow,” Gail said, “not cheap, I’ll split it with you, I didn’t realize it was this much.” “Forget it,” he replied, “let’s go inside.”
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Trent Boyd hefted his small attache’ case into the over head compartment and sat down in the aisle seat and waited for the 737 to take off. Leaving the bone chilling cold of Detroit to spend a long weekend in New Orleans was enough to bring a smile to the face of any seasoned traveler! One stop over in Memphis, and it would be good by Woodward Ave. and hello Bourbon Street! This would be Trent’s sixth visit to the Crescent City and it was definitely his favorite destination, with all the food, booze and women to be had! His day dream was abruptly interrupted, however, when he chanced to see an absolutely stunning black haired beauty dragging an over night bag down the aisle, obviously looking for her seat. Every male eye in the plane followed her every step, the result of which was a slight jiggling of her oversized chest underneath her skin tight sweater! To Trent’s utter delight, she stopped at his row, rechecked her ticket stub, and hoisted her bag into the over head, and slipped past him into the window seat next to his. Usually in cases like this, Trent’s usual experience would have been that this lovely creature would turn out to be an ice queen, but to his happy dismay, she stuck out her hand and said, “I’m Sonja, Sonja Fletcher!” He took her hand, and replied, “Trent Boyd’s the name, glad to meet you, New Orleans or Memphis!?!”
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