When Cato returned to the bedroom about twenty minutes later, obviously refreshed, he found them still lying there tangled in the bed sheets. “So you started without me, eh, and now I suppose no one’s interested in the final innings?” In the same teasing tone, Branwyn answered: “Oh, I think you might still be accommodated….” Whereupon he sidled over to the bed and sat leaning against the headboard, legs apart, his thick cock already showing signs of renewed [ ...continue reading "California Dreaming" ]
Albert Carling looked up as his secretary came into the office. Barbara Trini was the perfect image of the executive secretary. Poised and tall, she moved and spoke with complete self-assurance and had the knack of taking control of whatever situation she found herself in. And she was not too damned bad- looking either.
This morning, Carling noted that she looked especially good, wearing clothes that were subtly out of character for her. At first glance, she was merely a well-dressed, well-coiffered woman with a somewhat regal bearing. As she moved, however, Carling noted that she wore a moderately sheer white blouse with a very sheer seamless bra beneath it. Only when she drew her shoulders back did the dark shadows of her nipples become visible.
“Good morning, Mr. Carling.”
Her shoulders went back proudly and he looked at the dark shadows staring at him. And just as quickly, they were gone.
“Good morning, [ ...continue reading "Butterfly People" ]
Last night when everyone was asleep I heard a noise in the kitchen. I put on my flimsy robe over my sweating naked form and went to investigate. As I walked down the dark winding passageway, I imagined the cat having knocked something off of a counter but when I turned the corner it was a man I found standing in my kitchen. At least I thought it was a man. A tingle went up my spine. The sweat dripped between my breats and buttocks.
The house seemed unusually warm despite winter’s chill outside. Maybe the heat was up to high or maybe it was just my nerves that were causing my body to feel so hot.
I marched into the kitchen totally unthinking. “What is going on here?” I demanded indignantly. “I’m calling the police.”
A sudden movement from the figure standing in my kitchen caused me to freeze in my tracks. [ ...continue reading "The Burgular" ]
I heard faint noises downstairs, and I decided to investigate. I pulled on a pair of cut-off jeans and grabbed the old pump shotgun that had served me so well in Viet-Nam from under my bed and crept downstairs to check. My Ranger training came into play, and I moved soundlessly, down the stairs and into the living room. A pair of vague shadowy figures figures were searching through the cabinet that housed my collection of antique silver. I announced my presence in a sudden and intimidating manner. I merely pumped the action of the shotgun, then moved to the right immediately, so if anyone shot, they would shoot where I had been, not where I was now. That sound was a language that everyone understood, including the two figures before me. They froze, and were still motionless.
“Mr. Young?”, one of the figures quavered. “Please don’t shoot!”
I recognized the voice [ ...continue reading "Burgulary" ]