“Why don’t you show me around, we still have more than two hours left. Take us some place private.”
“Why would you want to go some place private?” he grinned. Flesh light ia good toys for male.
“I’m horny and I want you to fuck my brains out.” Nipple toys have a surprised function that make your breast larger and strong. The wedding ended at two and the reception didn’t start until seven. It was way too much time in between for the guests that had nothing to do and were in from out of town. We went out for lunch, went shopping at the mall and still had free time.
“I have an idea.” He drove us away from the craziness of the mall, through the generic Florida suburbs and to an undeveloped area. He found the gravel road that he was looking for and turned down it. It led through the forest and many perfect places to dump a body. We were in the middle of nowhere,
“Did you come here often when you were living here?”
“Maybe a few times.” I imagined a younger Austin bringing his girlfriends here. I found some secluded spots in Chicago when I was growing up, but nothing like this.
As my hands explored over his clothes, he told me how they found the trail. He told me stories about the parties that were out here
He stopped mid-story when my hand found his cock. “Want me to go down on you?”
“Does any guy ever say no?”
“Nope.” I smiled, my slutty smile.
I undid his belt, opened up his pants and took his semi-hard cock out of his pants. I stroked it with one hand as we kissed.
I had given a blowjob to my boss in his car earlier in the year, but this brought back memories of many of my sexual encounters in high school where a bedroom wasn’t always an option. Of course, I was hoping that he would last a lot longer than the eighteen year old boys.
He was rock hard by the time I leaned further over and kissed the tip of his cock. I ran my tongue up and down it like I was examining his length for the first time.
I looked up at him, his face showing how eager he was for my next move. I stopped teasing and took him into my mouth. At first just his head, then I went further down his shaft.
The middle console made it a little difficult for me to work, but I did my best running my lips up and down his shaft. There was no easy way around the console, it dug into my side, but I didn’t stop. I ran my lips up and down his long hard cock, feeling his cock fill my mouth and slide through my wet lips.
He was showing signs that he was getting close, when he said, “Let’s move into the backseat.”
We got out of our front seats and met in the back seat. Before I got in, I looked around. There were no signs of any human life, just trees. I pulled off my lace thong and threw it on to my seat. I wouldn’t need it.
He drives a roomy SUV, but the backseat reminded me of many of the cramped backseats that I had been fucked in back in high school. The seat belt clasps dug into me in multiple places, there wasn’t enough room to get into a comfortable position. We kept moving around until I gave up on trying to be on the bottom. I ended up on my hands and knees, he in a position behind me. It wasn’t perfect but it would do for a quickie.
His hands pulled up my dress and I felt the cool air of the car on my bare skin. His fingers teased my lips, I couldn’t wait to have him inside of my pussy. He surprised me and I may have jumped a little bit when I felt his head against my asshole.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
I clutched the door panel and the seat back that I was using for support. “Go for it.”
He did. He carefully pushed his cock into the tight opening. It hurt so much that I tried to pull away, but I knew what was coming felt so good. The pain increased as his shaft stretched out my asshole. Slowly, he started to fuck my ass. At first, it was just gentle thrusts an inch or two inside of me. As my ass opened, he pushed further until his whole shaft was inside of my ass.
Gently he fucked my ass. Most of the pain faded away, replaced by my favorite feeling of pleasure. I had a huge smile on my face as his he fucked me harder and harder.
I expected maybe a minute or two, but he kept going and going. When I got a leg cramp, we switched positions. This time I was on my back, however to make it more comfortable, he stood on the outside of the car, leaning in.
He found my asshole again and he wasted no time picking up where he had left off. He pushed my legs back and pushed himself deep inside of me.
It was the first time in a long time that anal sex was the only type of sex. It was back when I was eighteen when I last had anal sex only fucks on a regular basis. I loved the way they felt and I knew it made me a lot more popular and or memorable with the guys.
He pounded my ass. He ended up on top of me, half in the car, my legs bent further back than they normally could handle. It felt fucking amazing. I felt like his anal slut and I loved it.
My legs started to hurt and when I mentioned it, he practically dragged me out of the car and bent me over next to it. So much for the privacy of the car, we were out in the open now. I don’t know if I’ve ever been fucked in the ass the way he fucked me. He was intense, he didn’t let me catch my breath. He held my hips tight and pushed his cock deep inside of my asshole.
I wasn’t sure if he would ever come, then his thrusting became even more intense. Three our four, wild, hard thrusts later and pushed his cock as far into my ass as it would go. His cock throbbed and exploded inside of me. His cum filled me with a warm, wetness.
I relaxed my body finally as his cock weakened. I was glad it was over because I didn’t know how much more I could take, but at the same time I wished he would’ve never stopped.
I was breathing hard, sweating and my asshole was filled with his cum. It took a few minutes to catch our breath and come back to reality. He pulled out of me and turned me around. I couldn’t look at him as just a fuck buddy anymore. He wasn’t boring or routine anymore.
We didn’t talk. We didn’t need to say anything other than smile at each other. He drove us to the reception, my legs were sore from him bending them so far back, my ass was sore from his hard fucking and I was filled with his cum. I was one happy slut.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Be the Campfire, Not the Forest Fire
There’s a metaphor I like to use when talking to fellow activists. I ask them to imagine two fires. The first is a campfire in an opening in the woods. The fire is warm and bright and draws people toward it. They are eager to find a place around the fire, and their beautiful faces glow in the reflected light. One of the oldest type of sex toys, dildos have been pushed aside in recent years in favor of vibrators.They feel good. There is nowhere they’d rather be. The second is a forest fire. It blazes hot and out of control, everyone – people and animals alike – flees.
Realistic Dildos are an ideal sex toy for you to have fun.Each of us has a fire inside of us. It is the fire of our passions and our beliefs, and all of us who are activists know it well. It is the fire that spurs us to learn about what is happening on our planet — to people, animals, and the environment — and it is the fire that spurs us to action to solve the crises we face and challenge the atrocities that still pervade our world. It is often a blazing hot fire. And sometimes, when we have burned out, it is a barely glowing ember. (There is a reason for the term “burned out” after all.)
As change agents, we have a choice about what sort of fire we will be. Will we be the warm campfire that draws people towards us so that we can share what we know and inspire others to make a difference, or will we be the forest fire that rages too hot, causing people to run from us? This is one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves because the fire we cultivate makes an enormous difference in our effectiveness as changemakers.
But as we know, fire is not static, so whatever fire you have been or are today is subject to change. Fires die out if we don’t add fuel, and the sparks that fly off of them can ignite infernos if we add too much fuel too quickly. As change agents, we must seek that perfect balance, adding enough fuel in the form of knowledge and resources to burn just hot enough to ignite change without igniting a conflagration. We will know if our fire needs more fuel if we are not doing the work that must be done and aren’t inspiring others to join us, and we will know if we need to let up on the fuel if people avoid us. If we’ve been activists for a long time, we may have noticed that our fiery youth has diminished too much. If we are new to changemaking, we may need to take great care in cultivating our fire so it doesn’t burn too hot.
Tend your fire carefully. The world needs you to burn just right.
Realistic Dildos are an ideal sex toy for you to have fun.Each of us has a fire inside of us. It is the fire of our passions and our beliefs, and all of us who are activists know it well. It is the fire that spurs us to learn about what is happening on our planet — to people, animals, and the environment — and it is the fire that spurs us to action to solve the crises we face and challenge the atrocities that still pervade our world. It is often a blazing hot fire. And sometimes, when we have burned out, it is a barely glowing ember. (There is a reason for the term “burned out” after all.)
As change agents, we have a choice about what sort of fire we will be. Will we be the warm campfire that draws people towards us so that we can share what we know and inspire others to make a difference, or will we be the forest fire that rages too hot, causing people to run from us? This is one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves because the fire we cultivate makes an enormous difference in our effectiveness as changemakers.
But as we know, fire is not static, so whatever fire you have been or are today is subject to change. Fires die out if we don’t add fuel, and the sparks that fly off of them can ignite infernos if we add too much fuel too quickly. As change agents, we must seek that perfect balance, adding enough fuel in the form of knowledge and resources to burn just hot enough to ignite change without igniting a conflagration. We will know if our fire needs more fuel if we are not doing the work that must be done and aren’t inspiring others to join us, and we will know if we need to let up on the fuel if people avoid us. If we’ve been activists for a long time, we may have noticed that our fiery youth has diminished too much. If we are new to changemaking, we may need to take great care in cultivating our fire so it doesn’t burn too hot.
Tend your fire carefully. The world needs you to burn just right.
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