A Wild Winter Night In The City

As I lay, recovering from a mind shattering and surprising orgasm, I managed to say "Be a good boy and get me a cigarette from the kitchen." "Sure." My youngest son said while standing up and lifting the pants I had yanked off of him in anger. "Wait." I whispered loudly. I wanted something long, warm and pleasurable, but not a cigarette. I took hold of Tyler's hardness over his pants and, with my other hand, pulled him to me like I was going to kiss him. With all of my strength, I dragged my son onto the bed next to me and kissed him deeply. His body became rigid and nervous but I removed his pants and underwear while hissing "That's my good boy, Tyler." Within seconds, we were both naked and Tyler muttered "Mom...what are you doing? What are you doing to me?" Into his ear, I cooed "I know you want to make love to me." I got on top of my beautiful, innocent 18 year old boy and rubbed the tip of his cock gently agains

Many thanks to ChancesAre for helping me with wording and giving me some much-needed feedback. I cannot thank them enough, really. * I should've known this would become a problem for me later on. Maybe I did, and, much like any man when he is aroused, I just chose to ignore it. Having sex with a friend's mom is practically the textbook stupid porn plotline everyone makes fun of. You cannot be prepared for a conscious decision once an opportunity to do it actually presents itself. The thing about Karla was she didn't really like me. Actually, that's an understatement. She fucking despised me, and over the years I learned to despise her back. I'll spare you the bullshit about love and hate being close on the spectrum, because what we shared couldn't be further from love if we tried. I'll also spare my (let's be honest, former) friend from being named in these sordid little tales, for old times' sake. I do not know what Karla saw in me. I was not wide

"I don't want to hear about how the gardener you're hired is working out or anything else about the garden you're putting in down at Aquia Cove except in resale potential. I want to hear a date when you've moving up here to my apartment in Alexandria, Stacy." Jason didn't couch it in terms of an ultimatum, but that essentially was what it was—what it had been for the past three months that I'd continued with the renovations on the cottage overlooking the Aquia Cove off the Potomac River north of Fredericksburg, Virginia. I had continued despite Jason's increasingly expressed distaste for the place and my continuing with my plans to renovate and keep the house. This part of Jason Jamison, who was an aide to a deputy secretary in some administration or other in Washington, D.C., was coming out more and more by day and was as irritating as it was distressing. He was taking the same tack with my writing. I was a novelist—Romance novels. It paid the r

I wet my pants every time I think about it. But its damn true. She was hot. She was sexy. She was a stranger I meet at a bar one night after a stressful day's work. It was what I needed. And of course I couldn't forget her but surprisingly I forgot her name...I think it was Sarah? But I still remember the beautiful sexy smile...the pretty eyes. The wavy honey blonde locks and unforgettable body. It was one of those rough days as a young budding lawyer. I literally stuffed up the meaning of a historical document regarding an old case. My boss had disciplined me on this rookie error. And now I was headed to a bar in down town to drown myself in self pity. It was not my regular but I needed peace. I ordered a drink then headed to one of the tables. That was when she walked in. I watched her stride in confidently, looking sexy but she was a lady. She wore a mini skirt, her legs long and slender but she would have been only 5 foot 5 maybe. I watched her. It was a good distraction

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My wife Cathy and I had been working from home for several months. We'd settled into a routine with Cathy using the kitchen as her office with her laptop on the kitchen table and me working at the big wooden desk in the spare bedroom we used as a home office. We weren't finding home working too bad and we were getting our work done, especially since we'd been able to off load our three year old daughter to Cathy's parents during the day. But there were some things I was really missing. I missed the office girls strolling through the open plan area showing off their assets in micro skirts, sheer nylons and thin tight blouses. I missed talking dirty with the other guys discussing the office girls, showing hot pictures of our wives, partners and girl friends and sharing porn sites we'd found evaded our company's IT security system. I missed being in the privacy of a workplace restroom cubicle with my pants down and my cock hard in my hand jerking semen over the c