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Pregnant lesbo rides her video
Wednesday, May 13th, 2009The Art of the Kiss
Monday, April 20th, 2009
His lips breathe softly over hers; the merest hint of a touch. They do not linger,
but pull back, so his eyes could gaze into her faraway eyes. She smiled slowly,
leaning into him. Their lips connected, embraced, teasing—nuzzling lightly. His
tongue flicked out to trace the sensuous outline of her lip. Her own tongue flicked
out to meet his own, tempting him further. He pulled back his tongue, closing his lips.
He taunted her unmercifully, making her moan slightly. She leaned further into him,
greedy for his kiss. Languorously, he nuzzled, softly brushing his lips. Her mouth
opened in reflex, silently begging for a more intimate attention. With a low moan, his
tongue entered her softly. He flicked at her own tongue, before exploring her upper palate,
her teeth, her cheek. Slowly he made his way around, languidly. Her arms wrapped
around his neck, as her chest pressed into his. She did her best to entice him,
to draw him further, but he held back. She whimpered in need, and he smiled into her
lips. His actions became more energetic. Teeth nipped at her lips, before suckling
on her tongue, pulling it into his mouth. She returned the heightened ardor, nipping
on his own lip, sucking it into her mouth before releasing it. As he did, his hands
roamed lightly over her back, caressing her before pulling her even closer to him. She
leaned into him eagerly, their tongues rolling over the other’s like acrobats at play.
They exchanged breath. Fingers tightened on each other’s bodies. They pulled apart
slowly, smiling.
copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2002
Bimbo Wives Reviews
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Pregnant An Erotic Story part2
Tuesday, March 31st, 2009 Daryll seemed awfully impressed, spreading my legs to check
this out first hand. Forcing his face between my thighs, he
began licking at my pussy, doing his puppy dog routine. Long
licks, loud licks, the kind that made me squirm. His stubbly
cheeks scraped the insides of my thighs, driving me even crazier.
“Oh, Daryll!”
He pulled my legs over his shoulder, driving his tongue up
in my pussy as far as he could. The orgasm this time was
stronger, longer lasting. I had to hold my stomach while I rode
out each wave, the baby not liking to be disturbed by Mommy like
this.
“Aren’t you ready yet?” I asked, moving my legs off his
shoulder so he could stand. I left my legs spread wide; if I was
going to be wanton, I may as well do a good job of it. “I need
you to fuck me.”
“Yes Ma’am.” He dropped his pants, his erection sticking
straight out. While I ordinarily didn’t get excited by the sight
of a man’s penis, I did love to see Daryll’s erection, knowing
that I was the cause of it. “Maybe you should lie on the coffee
table,” he said, eying my big belly. “I think that will work
better.”
I blushed, but I was used to having to make concessions to
my stomach. Of course, laying down made the baby more active,
but I didn’t care. Right now I needed to feel Daryll’s hard
shaft inside me, and would do what I needed to do to get it. He
helped me lie back on the table, kneeling at the end of the table
between my legs. Planting a big kiss on my belly, he slid inside
me.
2
I can never describe the delight I feel when my man enters
me. The need, the itch, if you will, deep inside, is finally
scratched, stroked, but as satisfying as it is, it makes you burn
for more. Each stroke made me crazier; squirming with delight.
Anywhere he touched, my skin burned; the pleasure and desire
spiraling back to where our bodies joined. And when the climax
comes, the satisfaction of having his hardness inside kills the
itch, quenches the need. I feel my body clenching him, pulling
him deep, milking his cock to complete the whole process.
Groaning, calling my name, he collapsed on me, resting his
head on my belly. As though on cue, the baby pushed at his head,
my stomach suddenly distorting before my eyes. “You are some
kind of woman,” he whispered, ignoring the baby.
I smiled; my body finally relaxing. Twisting my hands into
his hair, we lay together; enjoying the way our bodies felt
against one another, the delight of flesh against flesh. The
baby even seemed to quiet down; accepting finally that Mommy had
a life, too. My back even felt good, laying against the hard
table. Closing my eyes; I drifted off to sleep, feeling content.
3
Homecoming part2
Monday, February 2nd, 2009 Just touch me.” She murmured low, cautious of waking her son. He
wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, then lifted
her up in his arms. Swiftly he carried her to the bedroom, and
laid her out on their bed.
“You have no idea how many times I pictured you like this.” He
said.
He leaned over her, kissing her passionately again, her arms
wrapping themselves around his neck then down the tight muscles
of his back.
It was then she felt it, the hard ridge of a scar over his left
shoulder blade. She broke off the kiss suddenly and asked him
quietly. “Is this why you’re home?” in a small, scared voice.
She watched him nod in the half light. She clung to him harder,
realizing how close she was to losing him.
“I promised I’d come home.” He whispered. His eyes looked
suspiciously bright, but it was only a moment before his head
dipped to her breast again, nuzzling their warm curves before
taking it into his mouth. His fingers danced across her skin,
remembering each curve, each dimple. His tongue followed suit
and her hands reached for his shorn scalp. She wiggled beneath
him, until he found her core. She whimpered. It felt so good,
but it had been so long. She pulled on his shoulders, pulling
him up against her length.
“Please just make love to me. I’ve missed you so much…” She
breathed.
He pressed gently but insistently at her center, his arms
supporting his weight over her. He slid smoothly into her.
Slowly he built her up, then stop when he felt her getting to
close. She pulled the pillow over her face, alternating muffled
screams with deep moans. Finally in frustration with his
teasing, she pressed him back, riding him hard, fast until she
screamed unmuffled in climax then fell forward onto his chest.
Sean pulled her into his arms, and pulled the comforter over
them.
“Mommy, are you okay?” Michael came in dragging his blanket. “I
thought I heard you yell.” His eyes opened wide when he saw his
father in bed. He dropped his blanket and launched himself at
Sean.
“DADDY!! I knew you’d be here! I knew you’d be here!” Sean
hugged the little boy close to his chest.
“And how did you know that, Kiddo?”
“Well, you promised that you’d get me a gift from over there.
And well, Santa isn’t here yet, and we haven’t fed the
reindeer…”
“Well, then, I guess we better hurry and put out those oats! We
don’t want Santa to forget whose house this is!” He smiled at
her over his head. “Let me get some clothes on, Mikey, and go
get your coat on.” Michael scampered out of the room.
“I’ll just be a few minutes.” He leaned over and kissed her,
then pulled on his pants and grabbed a coat from the closet. In
the light, she could see the large scar, and she shivered in
fear. How he survived from such a large hit was beyond her, but
she thanked God that he was back with her. Cursed the Army for
not letting her know he was wounded, but knowing Sean, he’d
asked them not to tell her, to spare her worry.
After they came back up, and a potty break, Sean tucked Michael
into bed, reminding him that Santa couldn’t come if he wasn’t
asleep.
“I love you daddy.” He murmured quietly.
“I love you too.” He whispered over him and he kissed Michael’s
cheek.
Once he was out, Sean went into their bedroom, and pulled the
Christmas presents out of the closet.
…End of the part2. To be continued..
Dating Diary 1988 part2
Saturday, January 17th, 2009 wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. It hurt a little (liar,
it hurt a lot) but I wouldn’t let him know. I laughed it off and
said “did I look like I was ready for marriage?” oh, yes, back
to the field; we made it back through the woods when I asked him
why he turned me down. He told me he wanted to but he respected
me too much. (I definitely made it hard for him when I dared
him!)
When we got back I asked him if we could go to this
grandparents, but he said now.
This really hurt me too, but again, I didn’t say anything. So we
were up in his room looking over car magazines. I asked him what
homework he had. He checked and said he didn’t have any so I
stayed an extra hour. I ate dinner there. Before Christ warned
me they said grace which was good (that he told me I mean)
After dinner, we were up in his room, I was lying on his bed and
we were kissing for about ¾ of an hour. I sure hope he didn’t
catch my cold.
That was all except that he liked the bracelet I made him.
p.s. I won’t promise to write in this every day because I’m not
in the habit of making promises I can’t keep.
Dear Diary, 10/21/88
Boy did today suck! I forgot to read Tale of Two Cities so I
failed the quiz (I think) then I retook the french test—bomb!
Algebra test I know I got a 0 out of 30. To top that off, Mom
told me when I got home that Linc and Arlene know about Chris
and me! Chris’s going to have a shit fit. Then she told me that
Linc was going to get on my case for forgetting to turn the
mists back on! Today is my DAY! I’ll finish later after Chris
calls. But first I want to copy this poem I found on a postcard
in Sackett’s:
Only as high
As I reach can I grow
Only as far
As I seek can I go
Only as deep as I look can I see
Only as much
As I dream can I be- Karen Ravin
Later-
Damn! Today is rally my day. I think Chris caught my cold, but
either way he is sick, so I can’t talk to him. I hope he’ll be
okay cuz I know I hate being sick. Sunday is supposed to be
rainy so we probably can’t go to the cliffs even if he was okay.
If he goes to work tomorrow I’ll ask. The only bad thing is
that I can’t warn him that Linc knows. Life is a Bitch! If he
calls back I’ll write more, if not, well bye
Chris didn’t call, but I remembered something I wanted to write,
Mom told me something about Arlene. Arlene was married to John
it seems and they had gotten divorced. After a period of time,
john came back and Arlene took him. They’ve been living together
since (3 years) every year he leaves her though. Sounds like a
soap opera, huh? Well. Later.
Dear Diary, 10/22/88
Life sucks!
Chris didn’t come to work today. Lianne told me this poem that I
like
I may not always tell you
Exactly how I feel; but the love I have for you
Will always be real.
You mean so much to me-
More than you will know;
And I will always love you
Wherever you may go
So when your days are really rough
And you don’t know what to do
Remember these words I am saying now
I will always care for you.
I’m upset (right) I’m miserable and I’m depressed . Help! I miss
Chris, I’m sorry he’s sick, I’m bored (naw, me, bored? must have
me mixed up with someone else.) I’m miserable because I know
Chris doesn’t care for me the way I care for him, and I’m afraid
he’ll get tired of me and break up with me. I’m afraid I’ll fail
my classes, that I’ll fail at everything (including life)
It hurts me that mike doesn’t care as much as I do, I mean it
hurts a lot.
You know what diary? My life sucks.
I nearly lost my job today. Chris was sick, I’m not doing
anything this weekend. This morning I weighed myself…89 pounds!
I lost 5 lbs, gross! I weighed myself again around 4…92! I’ve
…End of the part2. To be continued..
The Art of the Kiss
Sunday, November 9th, 2008
His lips breathe softly over hers; the merest hint of a touch. They do not linger,
but pull back, so his eyes could gaze into her faraway eyes. She smiled slowly,
leaning into him. Their lips connected, embraced, teasing—nuzzling lightly. His
tongue flicked out to trace the sensuous outline of her lip. Her own tongue flicked
out to meet his own, tempting him further. He pulled back his tongue, closing his lips.
He taunted her unmercifully, making her moan slightly. She leaned further into him,
greedy for his kiss. Languorously, he nuzzled, softly brushing his lips. Her mouth
opened in reflex, silently begging for a more intimate attention. With a low moan, his
tongue entered her softly. He flicked at her own tongue, before exploring her upper palate,
her teeth, her cheek. Slowly he made his way around, languidly. Her arms wrapped
around his neck, as her chest pressed into his. She did her best to entice him,
to draw him further, but he held back. She whimpered in need, and he smiled into her
lips. His actions became more energetic. Teeth nipped at her lips, before suckling
on her tongue, pulling it into his mouth. She returned the heightened ardor, nipping
on his own lip, sucking it into her mouth before releasing it. As he did, his hands
roamed lightly over her back, caressing her before pulling her even closer to him. She
leaned into him eagerly, their tongues rolling over the other’s like acrobats at play.
They exchanged breath. Fingers tightened on each other’s bodies. They pulled apart
slowly, smiling.
copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2002
BOUNDFN2COM Comments on Bound for Fun I II part3
Friday, October 31st, 2008IN> slipped past your spell checker.
I’ll be waiting with “baited breath”, like the cat who ate cheese, and sat by
the mousehole.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_ / <_
P.S. Do you mind if I save this letter, except for your name, and use it
and my response to answer any future flames/criticism? It helps not
to have to do it twice.
P.P.S. I got the scanner, and recovered part-2. Story follows this post.
PLEASE don't get squicked, until you've finished the whole story.
THEN feel free to let me have it with both barrels. ;-}
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
IN> Frank,
IN>1. Using my last letter to respond to other critics, some
IN>probably not as friendly. I re-read the letter, and it is fine, except
IN>for my personal identity, which you should please safeguard totally, and
IN>the first paragraph. The first paragraph is not only irrelevant to the
IN>story, but also is pretty identifiable as written by me. To those who
IN>know me, that may be true of the whole thing, but they would not be able
IN>to prove anything, so go ahead.
I’ll remove the first paragraph, and anything else that points to you.
IN>2. Have not yet had time to go over “BfF I” in the detail I
IN>promised, to send you the minor typos, etc. Hope to do so today,
IN>if not, tomorrow.
I’ll wait on both stories for your criticism.
IN>3. “Bound for Fun II” – the blistering literary criticism! ;=}
IN>Anyway, I liked “BfF II” It certainly
IN>did not squick me. It dealt well with the trust issues, and the whole
IN>fascination with violence and torture as “fun” when in the real world
IN> 1) they actually go on, and
IN> 2) they are __NO fun.
Amen.
IN>Now, the literary hard part for me, is that I must tell you that you
IN>did not pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. This reader, at least.
IN>Jones is clearly too careful of Lynn’s feelings, her peripheral
IN>circulation, etc. etc. for him to actually be planning to kill her
IN>This plot reminds me of the movie “The Sting” I thought that
IN>was a fantastic movie, because it was all about a sting operation, and
IN>audience member thinks he is in on it, but in the end, gets totally
IN>taken in himself, and actually gasps when it appears that one of the good
IN>guys kills the other. Again, at least this viewer.
IN>I do not read a lot of the NC stories, except the Parker works,
IN>and so I am not too good at telling you what a NC perpetrator must “think
IN>like” in a story, but one thing is that he must be totally
IN>uncaring about the victim, except regarding leaving clues.
IN>Clues don’t really have to do with
IN>the victim, just protecting himself, but at least that as close as he gets
IN>to giving a damn about the victim. Jones is way too careful.
IN>He is also clearly too nice a guy. I really don’t know
IN>how to remedy this from the dramatic
IN>viewpoint in the story. That he is careful is okay,
IN> but that he is careful of the girl’s
IN>feelings and comfort is not. I don’t know how to get across his care,
IN>and maybe carefully and intentionally mislead the innocent reader, with
IN>statements
IN>that when read quickly look like the self-centered detail worries of a
IN>schmuck trying to cover the clues, but on rereading after the surprise
IN>ending actually may be interpreted to see that he was looking out for
IN>her all along. A difficult task,
IN>but the only way I can see to get the desired effect and leave it in 1st
IN>person.
The idea was never to pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. The Idea was
to see if you could convince the reader that “Joe” was good enough and
convincing enough to pull the wool over Lynn’s eyes. Since you don’t point
…End of the part3. To be continued..
BOUNDFN2COM Comments on “Bound for Fun I II part3
Monday, October 13th, 2008IN> slipped past your spell checker.
I’ll be waiting with “baited breath”, like the cat who ate cheese, and sat by
the mousehole.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_
P.S. Do you mind if I save this letter, except for your name, and use it
and my response to answer any future flames/criticism? It helps not
to have to do it twice.
P.P.S. I got the scanner, and recovered part-2. Story follows this post.
PLEASE don't get squicked, until you've finished the whole story.
THEN feel free to let me have it with both barrels. ;-}
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
IN> Frank,
IN>1. Using my last letter to respond to other critics, some
IN>probably not as friendly. I re-read the letter, and it is fine, except
IN>for my personal identity, which you should please safeguard totally, and
IN>the first paragraph. The first paragraph is not only irrelevant to the
IN>story, but also is pretty identifiable as written by me. To those who
IN>know me, that may be true of the whole thing, but they would not be able
IN>to prove anything, so go ahead.
I’ll remove the first paragraph, and anything else that points to you.
IN>2. Have not yet had time to go over “BfF I” in the detail I
IN>promised, to send you the minor typos, etc. Hope to do so today,
IN>if not, tomorrow.
I’ll wait on both stories for your criticism.
IN>3. “Bound for Fun II” – the blistering literary criticism! ;=}
IN>Anyway, I liked “BfF II” It certainly
IN>did not squick me. It dealt well with the trust issues, and the whole
IN>fascination with violence and torture as “fun” when in the real world
IN> 1) they actually go on, and
IN> 2) they are __NO fun.
Amen.
IN>Now, the literary hard part for me, is that I must tell you that you
IN>did not pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. This reader, at least.
IN>Jones is clearly too careful of Lynn’s feelings, her peripheral
IN>circulation, etc. etc. for him to actually be planning to kill her
IN>This plot reminds me of the movie “The Sting” I thought that
IN>was a fantastic movie, because it was all about a sting operation, and
IN>audience member thinks he is in on it, but in the end, gets totally
IN>taken in himself, and actually gasps when it appears that one of the good
IN>guys kills the other. Again, at least this viewer.
IN>I do not read a lot of the NC stories, except the Parker works,
IN>and so I am not too good at telling you what a NC perpetrator must “think
IN>like” in a story, but one thing is that he must be totally
IN>uncaring about the victim, except regarding leaving clues.
IN>Clues don’t really have to do with
IN>the victim, just protecting himself, but at least that as close as he gets
IN>to giving a damn about the victim. Jones is way too careful.
IN>He is also clearly too nice a guy. I really don’t know
IN>how to remedy this from the dramatic
IN>viewpoint in the story. That he is careful is okay,
IN> but that he is careful of the girl’s
IN>feelings and comfort is not. I don’t know how to get across his care,
IN>and maybe carefully and intentionally mislead the innocent reader, with
IN>statements
IN>that when read quickly look like the self-centered detail worries of a
IN>schmuck trying to cover the clues, but on rereading after the surprise
IN>ending actually may be interpreted to see that he was looking out for
IN>her all along. A difficult task,
IN>but the only way I can see to get the desired effect and leave it in 1st
IN>person.
The idea was never to pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. The Idea was
to see if you could convince the reader that “Joe” was good enough and
convincing enough to pull the wool over Lynn’s eyes. Since you don’t point
…End of the part3. To be continued..
Cross Examined part5
Sunday, October 5th, 2008 implementation of a strict male management policy that will affect each and
every man and boy on the planet. The choice is yours.” She stroked me
lightly again, peering into my eyes, deciphering the meaning of my moans,
taking me to the precise edge of ecstasy itself, and then withdrew.
“Pl-please! I-I” She backed up a distance of about ten feet. I began
swaying my hips as the bailiffs held me, trying to hump the air.
“Fuck yourself, Daniel, if you must.” she said. “The consequences of your
actions are yours alone.” I became aware of my freed hand and began to reach
for my cock, stopping abruptly as I saw her giggle in contempt. My organ
shrank just a millimeter and I felt the tension subside just a bit when an
invading finger belonging to one of the bailiffs found my rectum and forced
it open, sliding up inside, pressing hard on my prostate gland. It was
simply too much. The hot liquid rope shot out on its own, and my reflexes
took over. I grabbed my cock in an attempt at damage control, but it was
too late. Streams of cum gushed forth, the jury gasped, the prosecutor
grinned at the spectacle, the judge banged her gavel, and I suddenly felt a
towel covering my mouth and nostrils. The odor was astringent, and as I
spilled the last of my seed on the courtroom floor I fell into a dark, deep
sleep.
The first thing I noticed upon returning to my senses was the peculiar
sensation of lying supine in a strange location. I was still naked but on a
soft surface, much like a bed. The lighting was a bit dim, the
surroundings seemed feminine, and the linens were perfumed. My wrists were
locked into fur-lined shackles and confined above my head, with both ankles
being fastened to the bedposts at the other end in a similar fashion.
There was a good deal of laughing and revelry coming from an adjacent room,
all of which seemed to be female voices. It sounded like a party. I
strained to hear some of the things being said, but all of the chatter was
interspersed with giggling and wasn’t too lucid. After a short period of
time, a woman poked her head in the door and called out to the partygoers
after noticing my emerging consciousness.
“Gina!” the voice said. “He’s awake!” She abruptly closed the door and
began conversing with someone in the hall. I tried to shake the cobwebs
from my head as I seemed to hear the assemblage of voices move away. When I
had almost drifted to sleep again, the door opened and an attractive woman
came inside.
It was the woman who had prosecuted me in the courtroom. She had changed
from her business suit into blue jeans and a sweatshirt, but my body still
tensed in mortification at her presence. She smiled sweetly as she sat upon
the bed, and roughly grabbed and pulled my face towards her as I began to
glance away.
“You can look at me, Daniel,” she said, smiling infectiously stroking my
hair lightly. “In fact, I want you to look at me!”
“What happened? Where am -” I was still a bit groggy from whatever drug
they had used to sedate me in the courtroom.
“The jury retired after you deprived us of your conscious presence,” Gina
said, matter of factly. “You were subsequently convicted of first degree
rape. It took them about fifteen minutes to decide.”
“Well, why–why am I here? Where’s my own attorney? What-what’s going
on?” I strained against my bonds. “Why am I tied up like this?”
“You’re here because I wanted you here.” Gina licked her lips and trailed
her fingernail sensuouly down my neck. “I defeated you in public before
the world, and now it gives me enormous pleasure to defeat you in private.”
“What are you talking about?” I raised my head as much as the restraints
would allow. Gina smiled.
“Minutes after the unanimous verdict was read, the world’s various
governments ordered the full implementation of a global policy of male
management. That order is being carried out as I speak, with males
worldwide being separated from one another and segregated into small groups
for transport to labor camps at diverse locations.” I groaned and leaned
back as Gina’s light touch danced about my erect nipples.
“In fact, Daniel, you are now something of a pariah amongst the male
population.” She continued to rub me softly, with my own humiliation
heightened by my arousal. “Some of them speak of inflicting bodily injury
on you. Others talk openly of murder. They consider you weak and
worthless, a poor representative of your own gender.” Gina suddenly reached
down and cupped my scrotum, giggling audibly as she stared into my eyes.
“Which, of course, is what you are. That’s why we targeted you for
prosecution and for this demonstration.” Gina brought my thickening organ
to a fully erect state with some skillful stimulation, much as she had in
the courtroom. She continued to speak.
“We will, naturally, fully protect your safety and provide you with a
comfortable existence. You will never have to work in the camps with the
other males. In fact, you won’t be allowed to work at all. Which is why
you’ll probably never again see another male in person for as long as you
live. From time to time, we’ll take pictures of you apparently living a
life of luxury and leak those photographs to the males in the camps.” She
grinned from ear to ear as I squirmed in agony. “Keeping the males angry at
…End of the part5. To be continued..

