Afterward Vanessa asked

With a number of cars having been broken into over the last few weeks in the neighborhood, I went down to the local home center and purchased a fairly sophisticated security system. I got one that I could hook up to a wireless remote, and download whatever it taped onto my laptop.

After a couple of test runs I had it working great. I even added audio to help with identification if necessary. It worked so good in fact that my neighbor Bob asked me to hook one up for him as well. With him being gone on business so often, his wife Carol would feel more secure knowing it was there.

I placed the camera on the side of his house next to his master bedroom, because that was the best vantage point to get a wide area of coverage. Carol was in her mid thirties, with short black hair, 36D tits, and a body that wouldn't quit. I never could figure out what she saw in Bob, but I figured love is blind as the saying goes.

My wife Vanessa could be Carol's s****r, they were the same body type, even their personalities were similar. Many people thought they were s****rs, although Vanessa was a natural blonde, and Carol had beautiful red hair. They got along great, and were the best of friends, going shopping together and the like.

I used to tease Vanessa asking if they were lovers. She would blush and call me a pervert, but sometimes I wondered. As Bob left for another trip I told him that I had finished rigging up the electronic surveillance and that it worked great. I told him all I had to do was connect it to my laptop, as well as his.

He asked me if I wouldn't mind taking care of monitoring his place for him, since he wasn't very computer savvy. I told him I would be glad to, but I knew the real reason he wanted me to do it was that he was to damn lazy. The next morning I decided to take a run through the video to see if it had picked up anything.

I'd finished a quick scan of the perimeter of my house, when I decided to take a look at the neighbors video. I started to scan the recording when I realized that I was seeing the master bedroom of Bob and Carol. I was wondering how the hell that happened when I realized that there had been quite a wind storm last night.

I must not have tightened the screws enough and the camera had been moved my the wind. About that time Vanessa walked into the bedroom and asked me what I was up to. She looked hot standing there with her sleeveless tee shirt and no bra, and a thin cotton thong.

"Huh?"

"The video silly...the video...does it work?"

"Oh ya, it works fine, but I've got to realign the camera next door. That wind storm last night moved the camera and it recorded Bob and Carol's bedroom."

"Really lemme see."

"Oh shit Cody look, there's Carol."

I looked at the laptop and there was Carol laying down on the bed. She was wearing some really sexy lingerie, and from the looks of things she was going to have some fun.

"Oh shit, I better turn this off."

"Like hell you will!"

Vanessa pushed me aside so she could see Carol as she lay there caressing her gorgeous tits as she leaned back against the headboard. She raised her legs toward her chest and ran her hands down her stomach toward her thong. She then moved her hands down between her legs cupping her pussy in her hands.

She stared squeezing her pussy gently, and making small circular motions as she closed her eyes, moving her head from side to side. It was all to obvious that she was really enjoying her little masturbation session as she lay there. After a few minutes she began moving her hands up along her inner thighs.

I turned on the sound, and sure enough we could hear Carol moaning softly. As Vanessa and I watched, Carol moved her hands up, and started caressing her beautiful tits, tugging at her nipples and rolling them between her fingers. I looked at Vanessa who was running her fingers over her own nipples as she watched Carol.

Next Carol slid a hand down the front of her thong as did Vanessa, who was now mimicking Carol's every move. My cock was as hard as stone, watching Carol, along with my wife. I took my cock out and started stroking myself as I watched Carol and then Vanessa. Carol had gotten a large dildo and was running it over her pussy lips, when I heard Vanessa start cumming.

"Damn Vanessa, I didn't know you were into women."

"I'm not, but I've always had a thing for Carol. I don't know why, I just do."

"Does she know this?"

"I think so, I hinted around a couple of times, but she acted like she didn't get it, either that or she was ignoring me."

"Oh shit Cody, I can't take it. anymore, gimme your cock."

Vanessa pushed me back on the bed, and pulled her thong aside. Vanessa lowered her pussy onto my cock, jamming it deep into her pussy. She rode my cock, humping me and watching Carol getting herself off on the video. Soon Vanessa's attention moved from Carol to my cock in her pussy.

She rode my cock, as she leaned back, and started squeezing her tits, and moaning as she humped me. I watched as she started tugging her nipples, gasping and moaning as she drew close to cumming. Finally she let out a loud squeal as her body started to shake and shudder.

Vanessa then moved off my cock, and maneuvered around so her pussy was in my face, while she grabbed my cock, and started sucking it. I wasted no time running my tongue over her pussy, working it between her cheeks, where I started teasing her asshole with my tongue.

She loved when I did that, pushing her ass as hard as she could against my face, while I penetrated her ass with my tongue. She took my cock down her throat, and started deep throating me as she moaned with my cock halfway down her throat. After several minutes Vanessa was cumming again, as she pushed her off me before she broke my neck.

I rolled her over onto her back, and then aimed my cock at her pussy. Once I was deep inside her hot pussy, I started slamming my cock as hard as I could into her, while she grabbed her tits again, and started moaning and squealing. Vanessa loved having her pussy slammed, almost as much as she loved having me go down on her, and sucking her clit until she came.

I was thinking about doing that very thing, when I felt that familiar burning sensation just before I came. Suddenly my cock started to throb, and pulse as I filled her pussy with my hot load. Afterward Vanessa asked pointing at the laptop,

"Does this work real time?"

"Sure."

I showed her how, teasing her that she was a peeping Tom. I had to leave for work, and told her I'd be back later that afternoon. I arrived home earlier than I thought, and looked around for Vanessa. I found my laptop on the bed and there was Carol masturbating again, just like she had been earlier that morning.

I thought Vanessa would have been watching this, then I saw something on the screen that blew me away. I couldn't believe my eyes as Vanessa appeared in the doorway of the bedroom only wearing her bra and panties. I could hear her Carol gasp,

"Vanessa! Wha...what are you doing here?"

I saw Vanessa smile, and then she said,

"Watching you."

"But how?"

"I'll tell you later, now keep doing what your were doing, I want to watch."

"What do you mean you want to watch?"

"You know you want me to."

I thought Carol wouldn't do it, but I was wrong. She looked at Vanessa standing in the doorway, and then she smiled saying,

"Does you're husband know you're into women you little slut?"

"If not now, he soon will. Now come and start playing with that pussy, you horny, fucking Bitch!"

Carol smiled and continued caressing herself as Vanessa looked on. It seems Carol loved being watched, and loved that Vanessa was the one doing the watching. The more Vanessa encouraged her, the more aroused Carol became. Soon Carol was smiling at Vanessa, giving her that cum fuck me look.

Vanessa watched as Carol caressed her gorgeous tits, and tugged at her nipples, all while Vanessa moved her hand down between her own legs. Carol's pussy lips were on fire, framed by her neatly trimmed bush. She slowly moved her hand down between her legs, parting her lips for Vanessa to see. She smiled asking,

"Do you like my pussy Vanessa?"

"Oh fuck yes Carol, your pussy is so fucking beautiful."

By now I was naked, and stroking my hard cock as I watched my wife, lusting for another woman, who just happened to be our next door neighbor. Overcome with lust Vanessa walked to the side of the bed and leaned over. She kissed Carol ever so softly on the lips while running her fingers over Carol's nipples.

That was all it took as Carol melted into Vanessa's arms. Vanessa started kissing her way down Carol's neck toward her tits, running her tongue over Carol's stiff nipples as Carol gasped, telling her how good it felt. I watched Vanessa kiss her way down Carol's stomach toward her pussy where Carol parted her legs.

Her lips were swollen and glistening with her love juices as Vanessa ran her tongue over her hot labia. Carol gasped and lifted her ass off the bed, grinding her pussy into Vanessa's face. Vanessa was like a woman possessed, licking and exploring Carol's pussy, all while Carol writhed on the bed, wadding the sheets up in her hands, and thrusting her pussy into my wife's face.

I stroked my cock as I watched the show, Vanessa's face buried between Carol's legs. Carol grabbed Vanessa's head, and thrust her pussy even harder into Vanessa's face. A few seconds later Carol let out a loud moan, and then her body started shaking as the orgasms washed over her. Throwing caution to the wind I decided to go get in on the fun myself.

I stuffed my cock back into my shorts shorts and made my way over to Carol's house and snuck inside. I tiptoed up the stairs toward the master bedroom and peeked inside. Carol was now servicing Vanessa, her face between Vanessa's legs, and Vanessa squeezing her tits as Carol sucked her pussy.

Carol's ass was toward my face, both of them oblivious to my presence. I had to admit, Carol had a really nice ass. I took a deep breath, and walked into the bedroom and stood there for a moment. After a second or two I said,

"You know, the only thing you two lovely ladies are missing is a nice hard cock!"

Both women jumped and looked up at me. Vanessa smiled the minute she saw me with my cock in my hand, and to my surprise so did Carol. Vanessa piped up saying,

"Well....so what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?"

"Smart ass," I quipped as I motioned for them to go back to what they were doing. Carol started licking Vanessa's pussy again, and I started caressing Carol's sexy ass, kissing her cheeks and running my tongue over her crack.

That definitely struck a chord with her, because Carol moaned and pushed her ass back into my face. With that sort of encouragement, I eased my tongue between her cheeks, penetrating her ass. Carol started cumming almost immediately.

After she finished cumming I got onto the bed and eased my cock into her pussy. Carol had a nice tight pussy, very similar to Vanessa's. She gasped as I held onto her hips, thrusting my cock deep into her pussy. In the meantime Vanessa was cumming herself from Carol's oral attentions.

Vanessa got up and saw that I was fucking Carol. I was worried, thinking that in my lustful exuberance I might have crossed the line, but then Vanessa smiled, and maneuvered herself into a position placing her head was between Carol's ass and my cock. Vanessa licked my cock and balls between strokes as well as Carol's pussy.

Vanessa finally sent me over the edge when she slid her finger into my ass and started fucking my ass. I could feel my orgasm coming so I pulled out just in time to cover Carol's ass with my full load. Vanessa massaged my cum into our neighbor's ass, licking up the excess afterward.

The three of us fucked the night away, alternating between partners. Other times, it was me on my back, with one woman on my face riding my tongue, and another riding my cock. The next morning Carol hugged and kissed up both, thanking us for a wonderful time. Back at home Vanessa told me how Carol had confided in her about her husband Bob.

It seems Bob isn't well endowed at all, and has little or no desire for sex. Hard to understand with a hot woman like Carol, but such is life. Vanessa and Carol do their girl/girl thing when the urge hits them, and I participate sometimes. That's fine with me, sometimes I like watching the taped action with Vanessa, and other times I like to be part of it. It always leads to hot sex between Vanessa and I for days afterward. Vanessa is one hot sexy woman, and I'm glad to have her.

setzte mich auf

Als ich wieder zu mir kam war ich in einem schlecht beleuchteten raum. ich bekam meine Augen kaum auf und mein ganzer Körper schmerzte. ich lag auf einem kreuz und war gefesselt so das ich mich in keinster weise rühren konnte. Ich wusste nicht was mit mir geschehen war und auch nicht was auf mich zu kam. Es dauerte eine weile, bis sich einer der Typen die mich in meinem Zimmer genommen haben, zeigte. Er grinste nur blöd und nuschelte etwas in einer Sprache die ich nicht verstand. Dann hörte ich eine Peitsche knallen und ich wusste was auf mich zu kam. Der erste schlag traf mich auf meinem Bauch, ich wollte mich gerne zusammen ziehen aber durch meine fesseln konnte ich dies ja nicht. Beim zweiten schlag stand er zwischen meinen beinen und ließ die peitsche voll auf meine Fotze knallen. mich durchfuhr ein schmerz der kaum auszuhalten war. der dritte schlag ging über meine brüste. Ich hatte immer noch nicht meine schmerzen in der Fotze verdaut da kam ein neuer bestialischer Schmerz hinzu. Der dritte schlag war aber mein letzter. Plötzlich hielt mir der Typ seinen schon zum bersten gespannten Schwanz vor den Mund, den ich sogleich auch öffnete. Er schob mir seinen Schwanz bis in meine Kehle und ich war bei jedem stoß am würgen. Er hielt mich an meinen haaren fest und fickte brutal und unnachgiebig meinen Mund. Nach einer weile zog er ihn heraus, stieg von meinem Kreuz, stellte sich zwischen meine beine und schob mir seinen Fick bolzen in meine geschwollene Fotze. Es tat höllisch weh. Meine Fotze hat sich immer noch nicht von dem Schlag erholt und jetzt fickte dieser Typ ohne gnade in sie herein. Es kam mir eine Ewigkeit vor, doch nach einer zeit immer heftigeren fick Stößen kam es ihm und er rotze seine ganze Ladung in mich hinein. Er laberte wieder etwas das ich nicht verstand und verließ den raum.

Ich lag immer noch gefesselt auf dem kreuz. Es dauerte eine Ewigkeit bis wieder der Butler kam und mich los machte. Als ich den Raum verließ sah ich mich das erste mal im Spiegel. ich war übersät mit blauen blecken und blutigen striemen. Er führte mich in mein Zimmer wo wiederum einer der "Schutzanzüge" für mich bereit lag. Neben dem Anzug lag noch ein Brief. Ich setzte mich auf mein Bett und begann zu lesen. Er war vom Meister der sich bei mir entschuldigte. Er wusste nicht das gerade Sergej so Brutal zu mir oder überhaupt zu einer frau sein würde. Er hätte alles verfolgt und weis nun das ich alles tun würde und auch alles ertragen würde. Er müsse mich aber trotzdem entlassen. Ich hätte noch eine Woche bis alle meine Blessuren verheilt wären dann würde mich ein Fahrer wieder nach Hause bringen.

Ich hatte tränen in den Augen als ich fertig war mit lesen. Der Butler stand immer noch im meinem Zimmer und meinte ich solle mich freuen. Ich hätte lebenslang Zugang zum Paradies. Er würde im Auftrag des Meisters alles Organisieren. Ich solle mich glücklich Schätzen denn nur den wenigsten Frauen gibt er diesen Freipass.

Die Woche verging viel zu schnell. An einem Wunderschönen morgen stand der Butler in meinem Zimmer und hielt Kleidung in seinem Arm. Ich dürfe mich nun wieder anziehen. Ich zog mich also an und wartete. Da kam der Chauffeur der mich hierher brachte und meinte ob ich fertig sei. Man würde mich zuhause auch schon erwarten. Ich sprang auf und folgte ihm zum Auto. Wir fuhren wieder nach hause. Als ich aus dem Auto stieg standen schon alle vor der Tür und warteten. Meine Kinder kamen auf mich zu und heulten das ich es auch nicht mehr an mir halten konnte und heulte mit.

Wir verbrachten einen Schönen Tag zusammen. Am Abend als wir ins Bett gingen begannen wir uns zu unterhalten. Ich erklärte ihm was mir alles widerfahren ist und das ich es gut fand so behandelt zu werden und das er mich bitte in Zukunft so behandeln soll. Er sah mich mit festem Blick an und befahl mir mich auszuziehen. Dann verließ er das Zimmer. Ich tat natürlich was er sagte und zog mich aus. Als er wieder ins Schlafzimmer kam verschlug es mir den Atem. Es war mein Meister. Er zog die Maske ab und zum Vorschein kam mein Mann. Ich wollte dich Prüfen ob du wirklich so eine versaute Hurenfotze bist wie du dich im Internet beschrieben hast. Du hast mir einen großen Traum erfüllt. Das Paradies ist mein Geschäft. Ich führe es als eine Art Hotel in dem Männer aber auch Frauen ihre Intimsten träume ausleben können. Ich möchte das du dort von Zeit zu Zeit arbeitest. Du darfst aber niemand sagen das du meine Frau bist. Ich muss dort Anonym bleiben. Das mit den Russen tut mir wirklich sehr leid. Ich fiel ihm um den hals küsste ihn und flüsterte ihm ins Ohr das ich so geil wäre auf seinen Schwanz. Er erwiderte nur das ich mich bedienen soll. Zuhause würde es aber keinen Brutalen Sex mehr geben. Dies würde ich nur noch im Paradies bekommen wo ich dann auch die Erholungskuren machen kann damit Zuhause keiner was merkt.

Ich öffnete seine Hose und ließ sie nach unten gleiten. Sofort nahm ich seinen Schwanz tief in meinem Mund auf. Dabei spielte ich mir an meiner Fotze die schon klitsch nass war. Ich fickte seinen Schwanz mit meiner Mundfotze das ihm ein kräftiges stöhnen entfuhr als er seinen ersten Orgasmus für diese Nacht bekam. Er Spritze mir seine volle Ladung ohne Vorwarnung einfach in meinen Mund und ich schluckte alles ganz brav. Ich blies einfach weiter bis sein Schwanz wieder vollends Steif vor mir stand. Los fick mich endlich. Ich legte mich dabei auf unser Bett und spreizte meine Beine. Er kniete sich zwischen meine Schenkel und schob mir seinen geilen Fickbolzen langsam in meine Hurenfotze. Langsam aber stück für stück drang sein mächtiger Schwanz in mich hinein. Er machte es mir sehr gefühlvoll, das tat auch ganz gut nach den Misshandlungen beim letzten mal. Nur mit meinen Brüsten war er nicht so zärtlich. Er hielt beide in einem festen griff und zwirbelte meine Nippel. Dabei wurden seine Stöße immer fester und fester und auch ich raste damit einem Orgasmus immer näher. Als er spürte das es bei mir soweit ist fickte er immer härter in meine Fotze bis es mir und ihm schließlich kam und wir beide unseren Orgasmen freien lauf ließen.

Als ich aus meinem Orgasmus wieder zu mir kam, hoffte ich das unsere Kinder uns nicht gehört hätten. Wir wurden schon sehr laut diesmal. Wir kuschelten uns aneinander und Schliefen ein.

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Julia und ich waren nun knapp ein Jahr zusammen. Bisher hatte wir aber keine Gelegenheit gehabt, zusammen in die Sauna zu gehen. Es wurde langsam Winter, das Wetter war nass und kalt. Julia und ich stellten immer öfter fest, das uns das schlechte Wetter auf die Stimmung schlug. Wir sehnten uns nach Wärme und dann kam uns der Gedanke zusammen in die Sauna zu gehen.

Ich war schon öfter mit einem Kumpel in die Sauna gegangen – aber nie mit meiner Freundin. Irgendwie hatte ich Angst, das mich der Anblick meiner Freundin nicht kalt lassen würde. Andere Frauen waren dort natürlich auch nackt und ab und zu gab es auch mal eine wirklich schöne Frau zu sehen – aber sexuell erregten mich fremde Frauen eigentlich nicht. Aber wie es werden würde, mit meiner heißgeliebten Freundin in die Sauna zu gehen – das sollte ich noch lernen.

Da ich einen Tag frei hatte, planten wir einen Tag unter der Woche. Ich war ein wenig aufgeregt. Nicht nur, weil ich Angst hatte eine Erektion zu bekommen – nein, ich war auch eifersüchtig. Niemand sollte Julia nackt sehen ausser mir... aber in der Sauna war das wohl kaum zu vermeiden.

Wir fuhren zu einer nahe gelegenen Therme. Der Parkplatz war relativ leer, viel schien nicht los zu sein. Als wir die Sammelumkleiden betraten, war dort niemand ausser uns. Julia und ich zogen uns aus. Oh man – ich konnte Julia immer noch nicht nackt betrachten, ohne sofort geil zu werden. Ihr wunderschöner Körper verlangte einfach danach, berührt zu werden. Sie hatte wunderschöne Brüste mit zum Knabbern einladenden Nippeln. Einen süssen Bauch und ihre glatt rasierte Schamregion zwang einen förmlich dazu, direkt mit seiner Zunge darüber zu gleiten. Mein Schwanz reagierte auch mein Kopfkino und wurde größer. Julia grinste, als sie es bemerkte. „Du schlimmer Mann“ flüsterte sie und küsste mich leidenschaftlich. Dadurch wurde es nicht besser. Dann zogen Julia und ich unsere Bademäntel an. Gut – darunter konnte man meine Erektion zumindest nicht sehen. Wir betraten den Sauna-Bereich.

Viel war heute wirklich nicht los. Nur vereinzelt sah man ein paar Leute. Die meisten waren schon älter als wir – so um die 50 schätzte ich. Als erste Sauna nahmen wir eine mediterrane. 55°C, mit Lichteffekten. Warum nicht – erstmal an die höheren Temperaturen gewöhnen. Vor dem Eingang legten wir die Bademäntel ab und betraten die Sauna nackt nur mit einem Handtuch bewaffnet. Es waren noch zwei ältere Herren und eine Frau anwesend. Schnell hatten wir unsere Position gefunden und setzten uns auf die Handtücher. Die warme Luft tat gut.

Ich schaute zu Julia. Sie war einfach wunderschön wie sie so da sass. Ihre straffen Brüste kamen wunderschön zur Geltung unter dem farbigen Lichteffekten. Schwitzen mussten wir nicht, dafür war die Temperatur zu mild. Die Wärme tat einfach gut. Meine Blicke wanderten durch die Sauna. Einer der Herren hatte die Augen geschlossen und schien sehr entspannt. Ob er wohl schlief? Der andere Mann schien wach zu sein – unsere Blicke trafen uns und er schaute sofort zu Boden. Ob er Julia betrachtet hatte? Ein klein wenig Eifersucht keimte in mir hoch. Aber da war auch ein anderes Gefühl, welches ich nicht zuordnen konnte. Ich schloss die Augen und genoss die Wärme.

Nach einer viertel Stunde merkten wir, das die Wärme irgendwie verloren ging. Das Thermometer zeigte weiter seine 55°C an, aber irgendwie fingen wir fast an zu frösteln. Julia und ich verständigten uns, das wir die Sauna wechseln wollten. Julia stand als erste auf. Mit dem Handtuch in der Hand ging sie zu Tür. Ich betrachtete ihren vollen Hintern. Julia war nicht schlank, aber sie hatte ihre Pfunde genau an den richtigen Stellen. Ich musste aufpassen, keine Erektion zu bekommen, also stand ich schnell auf und folgte ihr. Aus dem Augenwinkel sah ich, das der andere Mann Julia hinterher starrte. Wieder die Eifersucht. Und wieder dieses andere Gefühl. Dann verliessen wir die Sauna.

Julia wollte direkt die finnische Sauna ausprobieren. Puh – 95°C – das war ein Wort. Wir betraten die Saune – niemand war anwesend. Julia legte ihr Handtuch hin und legte sich darauf. Puh war das Warm. Ich setzte mich auf mein Handtuch an ihr Fussende. Lange dauerte es nicht, bis sich die ersten Schweissperlen bildeten. Ich betrachtete meine Arme und wie sich die Perlen vermehrten. Die Hitze war aber nicht unangenehm. Es war einfach nur heiß. Ich spürte wie die Kälte der letzten Tage aus meinem Körper glitt.

Ich schaute zu Julia. Auch ihr Körper war inzwischen von kleinen feinen Schweissperlen überseht. Das sah einfach so sexy aus. Mein Blick wanderte über ihren Körper. Ihren Hals, ihrer Brust, ihren Bauch. Die Haut schimmerte leicht. Auch ihr Venushügel war von den Perlen bedeckt. Selbst ihre Schamlippen, die ich gut sehen konnte das sie die Beine leicht geöffnet hatte, glitzerten. Ich fühlte wie sich mein Schwanz aufrichtete. Ich schaute zum Saunaofen. Im gleichen Moment öffnete sich die Tür und der ältere Mann, der Julia gerade schon beobachtet hatte, trat ein. Ich betrachtete ihn. Sein Schwanz hing schlaff an ihm herunter. Wow – ein Mordsteil wie ich mir eingestehen musste. Er schaute zu uns – diesmal fühlte ich mich ertappt und schaute auf den Boden.

Er setzte sich auf die gegenüberliegende Seite des Raumes. Als ich wieder aufblickte, sah ich seinen Blick auf Julia gerichtet. Ich schaute zu Julia, die hatte aber die Augen geschlossen und schien das gar nicht zu bemerken. Ihr Körper glitzerte vom Schweiss. Puh – langsam merkte man die Hitze doch deutlich. Das ging wohl auch Julia so. Ihre rechte Hand glitt über ihren Bauch und streifte so den Schweiss ab, der auf ihr Handtuch tropfte. Das war so Sexy. Aus dem Augenwinkel sah ich, das der Mann Julia dabei betrachtete. Wieder meldete sich meine Eifersucht. Aber auch das andere Gefühl. Und es fühlte sich an wie.... wie.... Lust. Leichte sexuelle Erregung. Aber das konnte ja gar nicht sein. Es konnte mir doch nicht gefallen, wenn jemand meine nackte Freundin betrachtete.

Julia wanderte mit ihren Händen über ihre Arme und strich auch dort die Schweissperlen ab. Dann sah ich ihre rechte Hand an ihrem Hals. Sie würde doch nicht? Doch – sie tat es. Ehe ich mich versah, strich sie auch schon über ihren vollen Brüste und kümmerte sich auch dort um die Schweissperlen. Nicht übertrieben lang, aber auch nicht hektisch. Ich fühlte wie sich das Blut in meinem Schwanz anfing zu stauen. Schnell blicke ich wieder zum Saunaofen, aber wie mein Blick so durch die Sauna wanderte erhaschte ich auch einen Blick auf den fremden Mann. Er schaute immer noch ohne Scheu zu Julia. Sein Schwanz schien noch dicker geworden zu sein – oder bildete ich mir das ein? Julia setzte sich neben mir auf. „Schatz, mir ist zu heiß geworden“ erklärte sie und stand langsam auf. „Heiß“ erklärte sie ein weiteres Mal und hüpfte auf der Stelle. Als sie zur Tür ging, versuchte ich ihr zu folgen. Sofort wurde mir klar, was sie meinte. Der Boden war heisser als zu Anfang, wie glühende Kohlen. Schnell verliessen wir die Kabine und gingen erstmal unter die Dusche. Das Wasser war kalt und es kostete mich eine ziemliche Überwindung mich darunter zu stellen. Aber die Kühle tat gut.

Direkte neben der Sauna war ein Schwimmbecken. Julia und ich gingen vorsichtig hinein. Das Wasser war angenehmen, nicht zu warm und nicht zu kalt. Nackt zu schwimmen – wie hatte ich das vermisste. Es waren noch ein paar andere Leute im Schwimmbecken, aber das störte uns nicht. Ich schwamm zum Rand und Julia folgte mir. Als ich mich umdrehte, schwamm Julia direkt in meine Arme. Julia umklammerte mich und fing an mich zu küssen. Aber es waren nicht nur oberflächliche Küsse – nein – diese Küsse waren voll Leidenschaft. Ich spürte ihren nackten Körper unter Wasser der sich gegen meinen drückte. Ihre Lippen knabberten an meinen Lippen. Oh mein Gott – wenn wir doch nur alleine wären, so würde ich sie sofort hier auf der Stelle nehmen. Meinen harten Schwanz in sie versenken. Ich fühlte meine Erektion. Mein Gott – hoffentlich bekam das niemand mit. Wir küssen uns noch ein wenig, dann schmiegte Julia sich einfach an mich an.

Nach einiger Zeit kam auch der ältere Herr in das Schwimmbecken. Ob er uns verfolgte? Hier schien er uns aber nicht weiter zu beachten. Das Wasser wurde langsam kälter und so verliessen wir es wieder, zogen unsere Bademäntel an und wanderten ein wenig durch die Saunalandschaft. Eine Salzsauna zog unser Interesse auf sich. 85°C hörte sich gar nicht schlecht an. Also betraten wir die Sauna und setzten uns auf unser Handtücher. Es war ein weiteres Paar dort, die sogar unser Alter hatten. Beide sahen allerdings auch schon relativ verschwitzt aus. Vor dem Eingang hatte ein Schale mit kleinen, in einer milchigen Flüssigkeit eingelegte, Tücher gestanden. Vermutlich eine Salzlake. Wir hatten beide ein Tuch mitgenommen und fingen nun an, unsere Arme damit einzureiben. Die Lake war recht kühl, das tat bei der heißen Luft ganz gut.

Ich war schon dabei, meine Brust einzureiben, als Julia noch bei ihren Beinen war. Das andere Pärchen stand auf und verliess die Sauna. Das kam mir ganz gelegen, denn ich wollte mit Vergnügen Julia dabei betrachten, wenn sie ihren Oberkörper mit der Salzlake einschmieren würde. Aber ich hatte mich zu früh gefreut. Ein (inzwischen) alter Bekannter betrat die Salzsauna. Der ältere Herr. Wieder setzte er sich uns gegenüber. Misst.

Julia lies sich das nicht anmerken. Ich betrachtete sie, wie sie sich wie selbstverständlich anfing, ihren Hals mit dem Tuch einzureiben. Der Mann uns gegenüber fing an, seine Oberarme einzureiben. Ich schaute nervös zu Julia und sah erschrocken, wie sie sich ohne Scheu ihren linken Busen einrieb. Das Tuch glitt über ihre knackige Haut. Ich konnte sehen, wie sich ihr Nippel aufstellte. Julia schaute mich an und grinste. Noch einmal mehr umkreiste sie mit dem Tuch ihren Nippel, dann ging sie zur anderen Brust über. Mein Schwanz füllte sich schon wieder mit Blut. Ich versuchte wegzuschauen und meine Blicke trafen den Mann. Er schaute ungeniert zu uns, während er sich mit dem Tuch über den Bauch wischte. Und während sich wieder meine Eifersucht meldete, war das andere Gefühl stärker. Erregung. Es erregte mich eindeutig, das der Mann meine Freundin beobachtete.

Julia schien das nicht zu bemerken oder tat zumindest so. Genüsslich rieb sie sich auch ihre zweite Brust ein. Beide Nippel standen hart hervor. Dann wanderte sie mit dem Tuch über ihren Bauch nach unten. Sie würde doch nicht? Mein Schwanz hüpfte, als sie ihre Beine öffnete und kurz mit dem Tuch über ihre Schamlippen wischte. Mein Schwanz war nun komplett hart geworden. Ich schaute zu dem anderen Mann und erschrak. Auch sein Schwanz lag nicht mehr schlaff zwischen seinen Beinen sondern war noch größer geworden. Seine Vorhaut hatte sich nach hinten geschoben und man sah seine blanke Eichel. Kein Wunder, von seiner Position aus musste er Julia direkt zwischen die Beine schauen können. Julia lehnte sich ein wenig nach hinten, während sie sich auf ihre Hände abstützte. Auf diese Weise kamen ihre Brüste noch besser zur Geltung. Sie machte keine Anstalten ihre Beine zu schliessen und so konnte ich ihre Spalte glitzernd betrachten.Das ich eine Erektion hatte, störte mich nicht mehr. Im Gegenteil – es machte mich an, das dieser Mann auch eine hatte. Bei meiner Freundin. Irgendwie machte mich das auch stolz.

Nach einiger Zeit wurde uns wieder die Hitze bewusst. Diesmal verlies ich als erster die Sauna, aber Julia folgte mir. Ich war mir sicher, der alte Mann würde uns beobachten. Würde sie beobachten. Ich stellte mich unter die Dusche um das Salz abzuwaschen. Julia kam zu mir. „Ich bin ganz heiss“ flüsterte sie mir ins Ohr. Oh mein Gott – ich war doch so froh das meine Erektion gerade wieder weg war. Aber ihr heisser Körper der sich an meinen anschmiegte bewirkte genau das Gegenteil. Julia merkte meine Verlegenheit und ging unter eine andere Dusche. Ich stellte meine Dusche auf Eiskalt und brachte mich so erstmal auf andere Gedanken.

Nach dem Duschen zog es Julia zu dem großen Whirlpool, den wir schon gesehen hatten. Dort passten locker 8 Leute hinein und wir hatten Glück, es waren nur zwei Frauen dort. Julia kletterte voraus, ich hinterher. Das Wasser war heiß. Durch die vielen kleinen Blubberblasen war das Wasser praktisch undurchsichtig. Das schien auch Julia bemerkt zu haben und ich fühlte ihre Hand auf meinem Oberschenkel nach oben gleiten. Ohne Scheu fasste sie mir unter Wasser an meinen Schwanz, der sich ihr sofort freudig entgegen reckte. Ein wenig unwohl fühlte ich mich schon, schliesslich waren dort noch die anderen beiden Frauen. Ob sie ahnten, was hier vorgehen würde? Ich schickte meine Hand auf Wanderschaft und und fand Julias Bauch unter Wasser. Schnell wanderte auch ich tiefer. Ich fühlte ihre glatt rasierten Schamlippen. Julia grinste mich an. Während sie meinen Schwanz streichelte, der inzwischen wieder hart geworden war, glitten meine Finger über ihre Spalte. Wir liessen uns beide nichts anmerken, zumindest versuchten wir es. Julia schloss die Augen als ich einen Finger zwischen ihre Schamlippen in ihr Paradies schob. Ich spürte wie sie unruhig ihr Becken bewegte während ich sie fingerte. Langsam schob ich auch einen zweiten Finger in sie. Sie drückte dabei kurz fest meinen Schwanz, was mir fast einen Seufzer entlockte.

Ich fühlte wie sich meine Erregung massiv steigerte. Aber ich wollte auf keinen Fall hier abspritzen, im Wasser mit den anderen beiden Frauen. Also griff ich ihre Hand, die meinen Schwanz umklammert hatte und hielt sie fest. Julia verstand mich wohl und lies meinen Schwanz los. Das war aber kein Grund für mich, bei ihr aufzuhören. Ich fingerte sie eine ganze Zeitlang weiter, bis ich auch ihre Hand an meiner spürte. Ich hörte auf und lies meine Finger in ihr stecken. Es dauerte fast eine Minute, bis sie meine Hand langsam von ihrer Scham wegzog. Ich fühlte wie ihr Becken unruhig zuckte, als meine Finger ihr Paradies verliessen. Sie war sicher ganz kurz davor gewesen, so wie ich auch.

Julia öffnete die Augen. „Ich will noch in die Dampfsauna“ erklärte sie mir und stieg dann aus dem Whirlpool. Inzwischen hatte sich zum Glück meine Erektion wieder gelegt, so das ich ihr folgte. Am liebsten wäre ich mit ihr sofort nach Hause gefahren um den Rest des Tage mit ihr im Bett zu verbringen – ich war so wahnsinnig scharf auf sie.

In der Dampfsauna war dichter Nebel als wir sie betraten. Man konnte kaum die Hand vor Augen sehen, ein schummriges Licht erlaubte es, wenigstens die Umrisse und Konturen des Raumes wahrzunehmen. Die Dampfsauna war leer. Julia nahm den Schlauch, der in der Mitte des Raumes an einer Brüstung hing, in die Hand um zwei Plätze auf der gefliesten Bank sauber zu spülen.

Wir setzten uns darauf und Julia küsste mich sofort leidenschaftlich. Gleichzeitig nahm sie meine Hand und zog sie zu ihrem Paradies. „Mach weiter“ erklärte sie und ohne zu zögern glitten zwei Finger in ihr Paradies. Julia stöhnte. In diesem Moment ging die Tür auf und jemand betrat die Dampfsauna. Auch wenn das Licht nur schummerig war, so konnte er sicher sehen wo ich meine Hand hatte. Die Person trat in die Mitte und ich erkannte ihn – es war unser alter Bekannter. Ich wollte meine Hand von Julia wegziehen aber die hielt meine Hand fest. Ihr Becken bewegt sich leicht. Unfähig etwas zu machen, blieb ich reglos.

Der Mann spülte sich mit dem Wasserschlauch einen Platz frei, dann setzte er sich hin. Ich konnte nur seine Konturen wahrnehmen, sein Gesicht oder gar seine Augen sah ich nicht. Ihm musste es genauso gehen. Mich erregte das alles. Warum lies Julia meine Hand nicht los? Sollte ich etwas weiter machen? Den Mann würde es sicherlich nicht stören, soviel war sicher. Langsam bewegte ich wieder meine Finger. Ich fühlte wie Julias Becken sich dabei bewegte. Sie lies meine Hand los und spreizte ihre Beine noch weiter. Schemenhaft konnte ich erkennen, das der Mann sich in seinen Schritt fasst. Seine Hand bewegte sich gleichmäßig. Wichste er seinen Schwanz? Es sah fast so aus. Mein eigener Schwanz war knüppelhart. Ich fingerte Julia nun hemmungsloser. Julia stöhnte leise. Mit ihren Händen umfasste sie ihre Brüste und knetete sie fest. Sollte es noch irgendwelche Zweifel gegeben haben, so waren diese nun verflogen.

Julia stöhnte rhythmisch und mir war so, als ob ich auch den Mann hörte. Inzwischen erkannte man deutlich, das er seinen Schwanz wichste. Julias fing an zu zucken. Sie stöhnte laut, als ich spürte wie sich ihr Paradies um meine Finger verkrampfte. Sie erlebte einen intensiven Orgasmus. Unter meinen Berührungen und vor den Augen eines Unbekannten der seinen Schwanz dabei wichste.

Nachdem sie ruhiger geworden war, zog ich meine Hand langsam zurück. Julia schaute mich an und küsste mich Leidenschaftlich. Im Hintergrund konnte ich sehen, das der Mann immer noch seinen Schwanz wichste. Julias Hand griff nach meinen prallen Schwanz. Oh ja – das tat so gut. Ich war so aufgeladen, ich wollte jetzt auch spritzen, egal was es kostete. Aber ich wollte nicht einfach auf den Boden spritzen. Ich wollte sie besamen. Tief in sie hinein spritzen. Also flüsterte ich es ihr ins Ohr. Julia schaute mich an. „Ok, dann komm. Nimm mich hier“ erklärte sie und stand auf, um sich dann auf die Bank zu knien.

Die Lust hatte mir den Verstand geraubt, ich konnte nicht mehr klar denken. Als stand ich auf, stellte mich hinter sie und positionierte meinen Schwanz am Eingang zu ihrem Paradies. Ohne weitere Verzögerung stiess ich tief in sie hinein. Fest stiess ich immer wieder zu und es dauert nur Sekunden, bis ich fühlte wie sich meine Eier zusammenzogen. Ich spürte wie mein Saft durch meinen Schwanz schoss. Fühlte wie ich Julia tief in ihrem Paradies besamte. Vor den Augen des anderen Mannes, der hinter mir aufstöhnte. Offensichtlich kam auch er gerade. Ich fühlte meinen Schwanz immer noch spritzen und spritzen. Alles verkrampfte sich.

Dann kam endlich die Entspannung. Ich zog meinen Schwanz aus Julia, die aufstand und mich in den Arm nahm. „Wow. Ich könnte spüren wie du mich besamt hast mein Schwatz. Das war so heftig“ flüsterte sie mir ins Ohr. Dann verliessen wir erstmal die Sauna und gingen unter die Dusche.

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toscani all'anice). Mi

Era molto tempo che non rivedevo A., uno dei miei “amici” preferiti, anzi: IL PREFERITO!
Ragazzo bellissimo, dotato, dolce ma porcello come piace a me.
Ero fremente ed ansiosa all'idea di rivederlo dopo tanto tempo ed eccitata al pensiero di ciò che avremmo fatto.
E' arrivato alla stazione del mio paese e sono andata a prenderlo con la mia auto, da uomo naturalmente. Ci siamo salutati e, nel breve tragitto per arrivare a casa mia, abbiamo scambiato quattro chiacchere raccontandoci quello che era successo dall'ultima volta che ci eravamo visti.
Durante il percorso, ogni tanto, gli toccavo le cosce, pensando al momento in cui l'avrei rivisto tutto nudo e disponibile per me!
Arrivati nella mia alcova, l'ho fatto accomodare sul divano e mi sono recata in bagno a prepararmi:
mi voleva troia con trucco molto pesante, come piace a lui. Prima del suo arrivo mi ero depilata per bene tutta. Ho indossato calze nere a rete autoreggenti, corpetto nero in vinile che lasciava scoperte le mie tettine, sandali rossi tacco 12. Parrucca e trucco pesante: ombretto viola, rossetto dello stesso colore e la mia solita parrucca nera. Qualche gioiello, profumo e vestitino in pizzo sopra il tutto, senza nulla sotto: clitoride e culetto liberi che trasparivano sotto il pizzo.
Sono uscita dal bagno e l'ho trovato sul divano, disteso, con ancora la maglietta addosso e i boxer, sotto i quali si intravvedeva il suo bel cazzo già dritto. Mi sono avvicinata lasciva e gli ho detto di spogliarsi tutto nudo. L'ha fatto, si è alzato mostrandomi il suo gioiello duro in tiro che ho subito afferrato con le mie mani avide: ci siamo avvicinati viso contro viso ed abbiamo iniziato a baciarci appassionatamente. Una delle cose che adoro e che A. sa fare benissimo e con trasporto è baciarsi appassionatamente bocca contro bocca con le nostre lingue che giocano intrecciandosi in contorsionismi eccitanti! Adorabile!
Abbiamo pomiciato così a lungo, cazzo contro cazzo, corpo contro corpo, con lui che mi chiamava amore e mi diceva quanto sono troia e quanto lo eccitassi!
Si è disteso sul divano, io mi sono inginocchiata davanti a lui ed ho iniziato a giocare col suo gioiello prorompente: prima dolcemente con le mani, poi avvicinando la mia bocca avida che già pregustava quello che la aspettava, alla punta del suo cazzo. Ho iniziato la mia attività preferita, usando la lingua sapientemente partendo dalle sue palle depilate, salendo su, piano piano, fino alla sua lucida cappella. L'ho preso in bocca e fatto entrare tutto fino alla radice, succhiandolo con trasporto e gusto ed a lungo, assaporando tutto il dolce sapore dei suoi umori di piacere.
Poi, pausa, risalgo con il viso lungo il suo torace e inizio

a succhiargli i capezzoli sporgenti dal suo torace depilato, fino a risalire infine con il mio sul suo viso ed iniziando nuovamente un gioco appassionato di lingua su lingua, baci sul collo, strusciamenti dei nostri cazzi.
Era eccitatissimo ed io in estasi nel poterlo avere tutto per me.
Poi, di nuovo la mia bocca sul suo cazzo, sempre in tiro, stavolta con lui in piedi ed io in ginocchio davanti a lui, sottomessa, che lo succhiavo di nuovo avidamente e con trasporto mentre mi masturbavo eccitatissima.
Non avrei mai smesso!!
Dopo una breve pausa mi fa una proposta eccitante, proponendomi una cosa che non avevo mai fatto: fargli un pompino mentre fumavo il mio sigaro preferito (si, è vero, non sarà molto femminile ma fumo i mezzi sigari toscani all'anice). Mi sono rifatta un po' il trucco, rimettendomi il rossetto viola che ormai era scomparso dopo le lunghe succhiate, ho acceso con lascivia il sigaro portandomelo alla bocca come fosse il suo arnese. Lui seduto sul divano, io che mi avvicinavo davanti a lui con lenti movimenti col sigaro in mano: mi sono inginocchiata davanti a lui ed ho iniziato un lento gioco eccitante tirando il fumo dal sigaro ed espellendolo lentamente, con fare da puttana di postribolo di altri tempi, sopra la sua cappella che poi immediatamente accoglievo in bocca come fosse a sua volta un grosso sigaro cubano. Gioco eccitantissimo, a lui piaceva sentire il caldo del fumo seguito subito dopo da quello della mia bocca e dai colpi della mia lingua.
Abbiamo proseguito per un po' così, poi sono come al solito risalita col viso lungo il suo torace espirando il fumo del sigaro sul suo viso e baciandolo poi con passione.
A questo punto ero in estasi: sentivo il bisogno fremente di essere completamente sua, facendomi possedere con passione. Lo volevo dentro di me, completamente.
Quello che è seguito lo potete immaginare: mi ha cavalcata, lui seduto sul divano ed io salita in piedi sullo stesso, rivolta verso di lui, mi sono chinata sulle gambe sentendo il suo cazzo che mi penetrava, piano piano ma con decisione, fino a che non l'ho sentito tutto sparire dentro di me: mmmmmm....
In questo modo io ero seduta sopra di lui, con i nostri visi di fronte, in modo da poterci baciare appassionatamente mentre lo cavalcavo facendolo entrare ed uscire dal mio buchino ormai umido e dilatato per bene dal suo arnese. Godevo e gemevo dal piacere sentendolo entrare ed uscire con facilità, riproponendomi, ad ogni colpo sensazioni dolcissime ed eccitanti. Ero completamente sua.
Mi ha scopata così a lungo, non avrei mai voluto smettere ma, nello stesso tempo, non vedevo l'ora di accogliere, finalmente, il suo dolce succo nella mia bocca da troia bocchinara.
Così, con dispiacere ho estratto il suo cazzo sempre duro dal mio culetto fremente, l'ho fatto mettere in piedi davanti a me ed ho iniziato la cerimonia finale di iniziazione di Patty la troia.
Ho iniziato nuovamente a spompinarlo, con dolcezza prima e trasporto poi, gemendo a sentirlo duro e fremente nella mia bocca assetata. Lo masturbavo mentre mi entrava ed usciva dalla bocca, aspettando con eccitazione i suoi schizzi diretti sulla mia lingua. Non ha resistito molto, era ormai eccitatissimo: l'ho sentito gemere di piacere e mi ha scaricato in bocca la sua dolce ed abbondante cremina. L'ho ricevuta con gusto assaporandola, giocandoci con la bocca e la lingua, riversandola sulla sua cappella umida che poi risucchiavo con avidità: la sua sborra mi colava dalle labbra e finiva sulle mie tettine. Dopo un po' mi sono alzata con la bocca ancora ricca del suo umore e ci siamo baciati con passione scambiandoci reciprocamente la sua crema. Era bellissimo.....
Abbiamo continuato così a lungo, adesso ero io che volevo godere, scaricarmi anche io della mia crema. Così ci siamo seduti vicini sul divano e, mentre continuavamo a baciarci e lui mi sussurrava parole porche che mi eccitavano, gli ho fatto accarezzare con dolcezza, come piace a me, le mie palle, mentre mi masturbavo eccitata dalle sue parole e dai suoi baci sporchi ancora della sua sborra. Mi ha portato lentamente al massimo dell'eccitazione: la sentivo crescere in me fino a che ho schizzato la mia sborra sul mio petto, godendo come una troia sottomessa al suo amante.
E' stato bellissimo: non avrei mai immaginato di passare una serata così eccitante con A.
Non vedo l'ora di ripetere l'esperienza che naturalmente vi racconterò con piacere.

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non molto alta,

Mi capita spesso di ricevere richieste e messaggi insistenti da parte di molti che mi chiedono incontri, spesso condite da fantasiosi desideri di vario e bizzarro tipo. Sabrina (il nome gliel'ho poi scelto io) si è presentata come una trav amante del fetish in cerca di una padroncina che facesse di lei la sua schiavetta ubbidiente, pronta ad esaudire ogni suo desiderio. Confesso che non ho molta esperienza come mistress, anzi, sinceramente non disdegno di essere trattata io come una puttanella, e un po' di sano ed eccitante bdsm che non lasci segni mi eccita non poco (pinzette strizzacapezzoli, sculacciate e frustate sul mio voglioso culetto...), per cui ero un po' indecisa se accettare o no le sue insistenti avances! La cosa è andata avanti per molto tempo, un po' per la mia indecisione, un po' perché mi sembrava il solito lungo e inconcludente rapporto epistolare che spesso finisce in una bolla di sapone e nulla più.
Non mi decidevo però a troncare con S.; le foto che aveva sulla sua scheda, pur di non eccelsa qualità, lasciavano intravedere una puttanella vogliosa e ben messa fisicamente e la cosa mi attirava non poco. Inoltre si intravedeva un bell'arnese tra le sue belle gambe..... e sapete ormai quanto sono troia se vedo la possibilità di giocare con un bel clitoride duro e carico di dolce nettare!
Insomma, per molto tempo tutto è rimasto sul virtuale: lei mi contattava ogni tanto chiamandomi "padroncina", mi chiedeva un incontro per soddisfare i suoi desideri. Però mi sembrava anche molto indecisa, titubante, anche se si intuiva che nel suo profondo desiderava veramente conoscermi. Tra l'altro mi diceva che non aveva molta esperienza con altre trav, quando le aveva incontrate si era proposto come uomo attivo, nel ruolo di dominante: insomma sarebbe stata la sua prima esperienza come puttanella sottomessa, un quadro decisamente un po' incerto, ambiguo e fumoso. Poi, io amo i cazzo duri e pronti da cavalcare e gustare a fondo con tutti i miei buchi e questa situazione di incertezza e ambiguità non mi convinceva del tutto ma nello stesso tempo mi intrigava non poco.
Per farla breve, la cosa è andata avanti così a lungo finché un giorno siamo riuscite a concordare l'incontro.
Aspettando il suo arrivo mi sono preparata; come al solito doccia con ritocchi alla depilazione, crema su tutto il corpo, intimo nero come piace a me con tacchi alti e trucco da troia. Al momento del suo arrivo, come concordato, gli ho fatto trovare portone socchiuso ed indicazione su come trovare il bagno. Ci siamo salutati senza vederci e l'ho attesa mentre si preparava. Dal bagno mi diceva che era tesa ed emozionata vista la sua poca esperienza

di incontri del genere. Dopo una mezzoretta si apre la porta del bagno e vedo comparire una splendida creatura, corpo snello scolpito, depilato perfettamente, non molto alta, completino sexy da vera puttanella con tacchi sexy, parrucca nera che le avevo prestato io, niente trucco e da sotto il perizoma si intravvedeva un attrezzo niente male: insomma una vera piacevole sorpresa!!!
Ci siamo accomodate sul divano e mentre scambiavano quattro chiacchiere le mie mani non potevano naturalmente stare ferme: ho cominciato ad accarezzarla mentre lei si sdraiava supina sulle mie gambe mostrando ai miei occhi uno splendido posteriore con due chiappette liscie e sode, pronte per essere trattate a dovere. Ho iniziato a sculacciarla, prima piano, poi sempre più forte facendole diventare il culetto rosso come un peperone! La sentivo fremere sotto i miei colpi e la cosa mi eccitava non poco. Contemporaneamente sentivo sulle mie cosce qualcosa di duro che cresceva tra le sue gambe. Ho introdotto la mia mano nel perizoma e mi sono ritrovata a toccare uno splendido clitoride duro ed eccitato. L'ho fatto uscire da un lato del perizoma e afferrandolo da dietro, mentre era ancora supina su di me, ho iniziato a massaggiarlo: situazione splendida ed eccitante sentirlo fremere tra le mie dita. Mi sono chinata e, sempre da dietro, non ho resistito: l'ho preso in bocca ed ho iniziato a fargli uno dei miei (scusate l'immodestia) rinomati pompini. Sublime sensazione sentire in bocca quel clitoride turgido appartenente ad un meraviglioso corpo da puttanella. Nonostante una evidente timidezza la troietta si dimenava dal piacere e sentivo il suo cazzo pulsare nella mia bocca e sotto i colpi della mia lingua.
Avevo l'eccitazione a mille e sentivo il forte desiderio di accogliere quel bel manganello dentro di me. Mi sono girata ed ho atteso ansimando di sentire la punta del suo clitoride accostarsi al mio buchino già bagnato di piacere. L'ho sentito spingere con delicatezza e penetrare piano ma con decisione dentro di me: l'ho accolto così tutto e sentivo andarlo avanti ed indietro mentre mugolavo dal piacere che mi dava e mi sentivo ora la sua schiava e troia, insomma la Patty che conoscete.
La cosa è andata avanti per un bel po', con lei che ansimava ed io che mugolavo come una cagna in calore. Il suo cazzo che entrava ed usciva e mi faceva andare in completa estasi. Naturalmente, come sempre, avevo la mia amata videocamera che riprendeva i momenti più eccitanti del nostro incontro: amo fare vedere quanto sono troia, mi eccita da matti pensare che poi tanti godranno vedendo i miei video porchi.
È la cosa che mi eccita di più: riprendermi mentre aspetto con ansia gli schizzi della calda sborra che mi arrivano in bocca.
Dopo la bella cavalcata infatti mi sono girata e le ho preso il cazzo in bocca iniziando la mia danza di lingua propiziatoria per la grande pioggia calda e densa....
Non ha resistito a lungo la troietta e, finalmente, ho sentito che fremeva e si dimenava sentendo il pacere salire fino alla punta del clitoride, fino a scaricarmi in bocca tutto il suo fiume di godimento. L'ho accolta tutta la sua sborra calda e densa assaporandola a lungo giocandoci con la lingua come mi piace fare. Una vera delizia di godimento: mi sentivo una vera puttana in calore, la sua troia padrona e nello stesso tempo schiava, assoggettata al suo piacere.
Al termine, spossate dal piacere ci siamo rilassate sul divano, scambiandoci dolci effusioni.
Ero sorpresa e contenta di come fossero andate le cose: insomma l'indecisione iniziale era ormai un ricordo. Avevo trovato una dolce creatura che mi aveva soddisfatto appieno e che avevo intenzione di rivedere sicuramente: non potevo farmi sfuggire una tale delizia! Infatti ci siamo poi riviste già una seconda volta ed altre spero ne seguiranno per appagare il mio desiderio di piacere.
Un bacio dalla vs, sempre troia, PATTYBEL. Alla prossima avventura! KISS!
VISITATE IL MIO BLOG per miei video e foto: http://pattybeltrav.blogspot.it.

Pompini

per tutti son

alve a tutti, mi chiamo Matteo, ma per tutti son Matt, e visto che voi siete tutti, sono Matt... Questa è la storia di come ho iniato il mio viaggio nel turbolento e variegato mondo del sesso. La storia inizia in una freddissima mattina di metà novembre, era l'anno 2006 e allora avevo 16 anni; l'appuntamento era fissato per le 5:30 del mattino il pullman che ci avrebbe portato all'aereoporto già mi stava aspettando (ritardatario cronico) e di li a poco io e i miei compagni di classe saremmo partiti per la gita scolastica, destinazione London. Devo fare una piccolissima premessa, all'epoca di sesso sapevo poco e niente, avevo dedicato (non che abbia smesso XD) la mia vita allo studio della chitarra da quando di anni ne avevo 5 e sinceramente vivevo nel mio mondo, incurante delle ragazze che mi stavano attorno. Detto questo durante il viaggio fui un continuo bersaglio da parte dei miei compangi e compagne di continue richieste di canzoni da suonare con la chitarra che fedelmente mi ero portato dietro (lo so è assurdo direte voi ma ricordate la premessa)richieste che esaudii senza troppe difficoltà (per dovere di cronaca due canzoni mi vennero richieste dalla professoressa di matematica). Arrivati in Hotel a Eton Road mi accorsi di avere finito le sigarette e, fra una bestemmia e l'altra, scesi dalle professoresse chiedendo il permesso (che OVVIAMENTE mi fu negato) di uscire per andarle a comperare, rassegnato al peggio mi resi conto che una delle mie compagne, Chiara, era una fumatrice così bel bello (si fa per dire) bussai alla porta della camera per chiederle una sigaretta. Alla porta tuttavia non mi apri Chiara, ma Federica un'altra mia compagna, solo ora mi rendo conto che era di una bellezza accecante, ma in quel momento io pensavo solo alla mia sigaretta e non ero disposto a concedermi distrazioni. Mi invitò ad entrare in camera e SOLO in quel momento (pensate un po voi che COGLIONAZZO ero) mi accorsi che per coprirsi altro non aveva che un asciugamano annodato filo capezzoli, da far girare la testa ad una statua. Entrato in camera mi accomodai sul letto aspettando che lei frugasse nella borsa dell'amica alla ricerca della sigaretta mancante, una volta trovata me la porse e lì ci fu il primo flash di un capezzolo fuggiasco che fece capolino dall'asciugamano; arrossendo terribilmente glielo feci notare e lei si copri con malagrazia; era oramai quasi un'ora che non fumavo e quindi decisi di non voler aspettare oltre e lì, sul letto, accesi la sigaretta... SOTTO il sensore antincendio. In un lampo vidi Federica letteralmente lanciarmisi addosso per evitare di far allagare tutto l'Hotel, riusci nel suo primo intento, nel senso che la sigaretta si spense e per fortuna non s**ttò l'allarme; tuttavia evitare la catastrofe rimanendo coperta era la di là di ogni più rosea previsione; ricapitolando era sdraiato su un letto in una camera d'albergo con una figa spaziale NUDA sdraiata sopra (ora, ero un filino svampito, ma fino a tanto no. Quidni, con una malizia che non mi apparteneva le diedi un pizzicotto amorevole (o così credevo) sul culo, lo schiaffone fu inevitabile, cambiai tattica: la strinsi con le mani proprio sopra le fossette di Venere e le chiesi se era quello il suo obbiettivo fin dall'inizio (ovviamente in tono sarcastico) lei capiì fischi per fiaschi e mi stampò un bacio che a me parve durare mezz'ora (il primo in assoluto mio)e si mise a sedere sul mio uccello, che nel frattempo sembrava volesse esplodere (abbastanza dolorosa la sensazione)iniziò a sbottonarmi la camicia lentamente, mi baciava ad ogni bottone slacciato (fate voi erano 23 -.-")rimasto in mutande cercai di prendere in mano la situzione e la girai di peso levandomi l'ultimo pezzo di biancheria allo stesso momento (apro una parentesi, uomini ci vuole un po' di pratica ma giuro che fa veramente figo questo giochino, contattatemi che vi spiego meglio come farlo) e mi appoggiai a lei. Dopo circa......5 secondi lei capì che ero completamente incapace e mi fece strada lei fra le sue cosce umidissime. Iniziai a spingere a ritmo sempre più veloce e, a giudicare dal casino che faceva, con ottimi risultati (ai tempi non ero proprio un fenomeno dell'arte amatoria, ma Madre Natura con me è stata magnanima XD)dopo circa un quarto d'ora la vidi contorcersi come un'anguilla, si aggrappò a me, affondo i suoi denti nella mia spalla per non urlare (un male porco) e venne, la forza di quell'orgasmo io giuro non l'ho più vista in nessuna ragazza: si contorse talmente tanto che il mio uccello scivolò fuori e lei fece tre getti di liquido dalla sua figa... La situazione iniziò a degenerare: con una foga che aveva dell'inumano si avventàò sul mio bastone cavalcandolo furiosamente fino a che non ebbe un altro orgasmo pauroso, questa volta affondando le sue maledette unghie direttamente sui miei poveri pettorali (una ragazza che lascia il segno non c'è che dire)e ricominciò con rinnovato furore, ansiamando come una locomotiva. Altri due dolorosi (per me) suoi orgasmi e io non resistetti più le afferrai il culo con entrambe le mani e diedi due colpi velocissimi e profondi, quella fu, letteralmente, la goccia che fece traboccare il vaso: le venni dentro mentre il mio corpo era attraversato da un brivido che mai avevo provato (e che non avrei provato mai più, non così intenso in ogni caso). Restammo nudi e abbracciati per un po', poi la paura di essere scoperti prese il sopravvento e ci rivestimmo, lei mi baciò e mi invitò per la sera ad una partita a poker con le sue amiche e fi fece l'occhiolino, terrorizzato da quello che sarebbe potuto succedere accettai, uscii dalla camera, riaccesa quella benedettissima sigaretta (e poi fumare fa male cazzo?!?!?!?!?) entrai in camera mia con un sorriso a 32 denti... Superfluo dire che s**ttò l'allarme antincendio.
La storia prosegue ancora, se è stata di vostro gradimento scrivetemelo e io continuerò a scrivere le mie (dis)avventure
P.S. Non cambio il modo di scrivere, se non vi piace non leggetele punto.
BYE BYE AND KISSES!!!!!

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as he came

Being 36 and divorced wasnt much fun. Even though I kept my shape I didnt go out much. I was being messed around by a few fellas so I suppose my confidence took a knock too.

One friday night I had got all dressed up up ready to go out on a date with an old friend. I thought he might be after a bit of extra and didnt mind the attention. I started a bottle of wine and jumped into the bath. I hadnt had it for so long and played with myself to orgasm in the bath thinking about the night ahead. I got out and blow dryed my hair and decided what to wear. I put on my champange coloured silky bra, suspender belt and panties. As I finished my third glass of wine I then slid on my flesh stockings and silky short yellow dress. As I then applied my make up i heard my sixteen year old son come in downstairs. He shouted up that he brought an old friend back but that he was going out again soon. I put on my high heels and went downstairs.

Just then I had a phonecall from my so called date who was cancelling, so I told him never again. I was devasted and went to the kitchen for more wine. On my arrival I couldnt believe that my sons friend Andrew was now a good looking strapping lad. He must be six foot too with good looks too. I sat on the worktop flashing my legs a little no intentionaly at first. He couldnt take his eyes off them and kept trying to glimpse further up. I then realised that there was no wine and Andrew offered to get some more. My son had plans and was going out so I told Andrew to get two bottles. He flashed me a smile as he and my son went off.

Twenty minutes later he arrived back. I poured two large glasses and felt his eyes burning into me from behind. We sat in the lounge with him on one chair and me the other. I let my dress ride higher and kept crossing my legs as we drank more and more. Inevitabley the chat turned to recent sex conquests and that she was 33. She told him he was the biggest she had seen. I was starting to get turned on by all this nad could see he was too. As went to the kitchen I could see the huge bulge in his jeans. I made point of bending over at every opportunuity. I then lead him back to the settee. I put my leg over his and he ran his hand up my thigh and over the stockings. My pussy was moist aching for him. He slid my panties to the side and entered two fingers into me. We then started to kiss passionately. I undid his jeans and pulled out a huge 8 inch cock. I couldnt believe my eyes in its circumised glory. I then lead him upstairs. I stold him to strip me completely which he did. I then sat atride him and took him slowly in me. He was huge and I quivered to my first orgasm. I then let him take control as he pounded into me faster and faster. He must have pounded me for a full 20 mins then finally thrust and grunted as he came in me as I orgamsd again. I was shaking with delight........I promised him not to tell but can i trust him??

giapponese

her parents, Mohammed

Loving him is ill-advised, she told herself for the thousandth time as she looked at the picture of herself standing next to the one she loved the most. They were too different, she reminded herself. Yet from the first time she laid eyes on him in that Sociology class in September 2011, she couldn't stop thinking about him. In the eyes of most people, she was strange and she knew it. The quiet and fun Carleton University campus in Canada's capital was quite diverse. Lots of students from places like Africa, the Caribbean, Latin America, Southeast Asia and the Middle East. Yet Nabeela Marzuq was painfully aware of the stares she got everywhere she went. Simply because she was a short, slender Arab gal wearing a modest hijab along with her T-shirt and jeans. To most people, she would never be more than that. So many people seem to forget that Muslim women who dress conservatively are still women. Nabeela was used to being invisible, or, to put it mildly, her hijab was visible and she wasn't. Not the person she was underneath. And she was resigned to her apparent fate, until she met...him.

The first day of classes, he showed up late. Tall, dark and handsome. Clad in a bright green T-shirt featuring Paul Pierce of the Boston Celtics, black jeans and boots. The sight of him set her heart afire, and she felt her cheeks redden. Of course he had to come sit next to her. She sat alone in a row meant to seat six students, and felt more than a bit alone. She was the only hijabi in class. Her other friend Farah, a tall and slender Somali gal, never wore the hijab. That day Farah wore a red tank top, short black skirt and black leather boots. She sat next to her boyfriend Hoffman, a blond-haired and blue-eyed student from Heidelberg, Germany. Nabeela shook her head at Farah as she gently touched Hoffman, then kissed him right there in front of everybody.

How Nabeela admired and feared Farah's boldness, even though she occasionally chastised her friend for being too upfront about everything. Being female and Muslim meant a life of discretion, that's what Nabeela's mother and grandmother taught her back in Yemen. However, living in Ontario was slowly changing her. Somalis and Yemenis were both present in large numbers among the immigrant populace of metropolitan Ottawa, Ontario. Yet they couldn't be more different, in spite of the relative proximity of both nations and the usually friendly relations between them. Most Somalis living in Canada were living their lives the western way. Very few bothered with wearing traditional clothes from the Somali motherland, and quite a few indulged in western vices like drinking, having casual sex and partying hard. Farah Muhammad, Nabeela's best friend, was such a gal. and she was by no means unique among the Somali people of Canada's capital.

Nabeela's thoughts returned to the towering young Black man who took her breath away. He seemed different somehow, and unlike just about every male student on campus, he seemed to notice her. Really notice her. He smiled politely as he sat just one seat away from her, wished her a good day and asked her what he missed. Her silence didn't deter him, not one beat. He asked her if she was shy and told her that he was new to the school. In spite of herself, she found herself puzzled by this talkative young Black man. He had an accent which she couldn't place. He didn't sound like the African immigrant students she knew, nor did he sound like the ones from the Caribbean. She looked him in the eyes and asked him where he was from. The stranger grinned from ear to ear and introduced himself. Sylvester Vector, from Boston, Massachusetts. He proudly pointed to the Boston Celtics logo on his T-shirt, and she noticed the oversized cross hanging around his neck. So, he was a Christian. Okay.

Sylvester Vector looked at the short, hijab-wearing Arab gal. So she could talk, cool. He was beginning to wonder if she was a mute or if she had taken a vow of silence or something. He didn't know much about Muslims, at least not those Muslims he ran into in Canada. He knew Arabs and other Muslims in the United States. The ones he knew were VERY different from the Canadian Muslims. The Arab chicks he knew in Boston didn't wear hijabs. They wore western clothes, and did all the things that normal western women did. They went to parties, dated whoever they liked, smoked cigarettes, and totally owned their sexuality and were bold and confident women of the world. The Muslim chicks he ran into during his first sixty days in Canada lived as though they were still in the Middle East or Africa or wherever the bulk of them came from. Wow. It's almost as if the clock had stopped for them. Oh, well. Whatever floats their boat, he thought. Different strokes for different folks and all that.

Sylvester was quite surprised when the young Arab woman sitting one seat away from him smiled shyly and introduced herself as Nabeela. He smiled politely, and refrained from shaking her hand. From his time among the Canadians, he learned a bit about the cultures and norms of Middle-Easterners. They weren't a touchy-feely group, especially the women. He seemed to be in for an afternoon of surprises, for the young Arab woman extended her hand for him to shake. Hesitantly he shook her hand, and she nodded. She looked at him with those big brown eyes of hers and asked him what an American was doing in Canada. Sylvester smiled and told her the tale he'd been telling his Canadian friends ever since he got to Ottawa. His father, Boston Police Department sergeant Stewart Vector banished him to Ontario, Canada, after a lackluster year at Boston University. Sylvester joined a fraternity, and developed bad habits like smoking, drinking and skipping class. He ended up on academic probation and his dad felt that something drastic had to be done. That's how he got shipped off to Canada. The most boring place known to man. Talk about reverse Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Damn.

Nabeela laughed when he shared that with her. Sylvester cocked an eyebrow. Apparently even Arab chicks in Canada knew about the show he loved while growing up in Boston's Hyde Park neighborhood. The sociology professor, a bespectacled Hispanic-looking lady in her fifties, glared at the tall Black guy who sat in the front row, giggling with the Arab gal. She didn't seem to approve. Nabeela shot Sylvester a conspiratorial look, and he shrugged. By the time class ended, things were off to a nice start between them. Sylvester told her about his uncle Jamal Vector, a former brawler turned night club bouncer who converted to Islam while spending two weeks in prison for assault. The guy changed completely when he came out, though friends and f****y initially thought it was a phase. Apparently, his uncle's change of heart was genuine. He stopped drinking, stopped getting into trouble and became a better father to the three sons and two daughters he sired on four women whom he never married.

Nowadays, uncle Jamal was back in school, enrolled at Massasoit Community College while working as a security company supervisor. Not bad for a guy with a record as long as an interstate highway. Nabeela smiled and told Sylvester that the power of God could change the human heart. Sylvester nodded. Whether you call yourself Jewish, Christian or Muslim, there is only one God. Call Him God, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah or simply The Most High. Only one entity reigned supreme in the cosmos. The Creator of all. Nabeela smiled as Sylvester shared his view on religion with her. At first glance she dismissed him as a wannabe street tough judging by his oversized cross and hip-hop inspired outfits. The cross he wore was more like a rapper's bling than a Christian icon. Still, after speaking to him for about an hour, she thought he was much deeper than he appeared. When class ended, she surprised herself...and him...by asking if she could add him on Facebook. Sylvester took out his touchscreen phone and looked her up on Facebook. He misspelled her last name, so she had to add him instead. Yes, Nabeela Abdullah, the most prim and proper Yemeni gal in all of Canada, took an uncharacteristically bold step and added a strange, roughly handsome Black Christian guy from the States as her Facebook friend.

As they exited class together, Sylvester looked into her eyes, smiled that goofy smile of his, and told her that he was glad to know her. Then he nodded respectfully, wished her a good day and walked away. Nabeela stood there, frozen in place. When he looked into her eyes just then, her heart practically leaped from her chest. She'd seen good-looking men before, but there was something different about him. So many people out there wore masks or put up a front. Sylvester wasn't like that. There was something about him...she knew it in her bones. So absorbed was she by her wayward thoughts that she barely noticed when her good friend Farah, the Somali gal who worshipped blond guys, casually bumped into her. Her boyfriend Hoffman was with her. Farah and Hoffman exchanged a steamy kiss, then Hoffman wished her goodbye and took off. Farah watched Hoffman go and smiled. When Nabeela didn't say anything, Farah rolled her eyes, thinking that her conservative friend was going to launch into another discussion why Muslim girls should stay away from men who weren't Muslim.

To Farah's amazement, Nabeela did no such thing. Instead, Nabeela asked Farah if Hoffman really made her happy, if he understood and cared for her, even though he was Jewish and not Muslim. Farah smiled and, from Nabeela's viewpoint, the Somali gal seemed to almost glow from within. Calmly, Farah said she was in love with Hoffman and would do anything to be with him. Nabeela gently hugged the young Black woman she considered the s****r she never had but always wanted, and wished her good luck in her loving relationship. Farah laughed, and asked Nabeela if she was feeling alright. Typically, Nabeela was a real stickler for every Islamic rule ever written and a real downer at times. Why was she so upbeat? Nabeela smiled mysteriously and waved at Farah before walking away.

That night, Nabeela stayed up in her dorm and spent two hours chatting on Facebook with Sylvester. The next morning, she ran into Sylvester inside the university center and they ended up grabbing coffee together. As they sat at a table and chatted, three Arab guys walked by, flanked by a pair of tall, blonde-haired white girls. They spotted Nabeela sitting with Sylvester and glared at the two of them while muttering to themselves in Arabic. Nabeela's heart thundered in her chest but she returned their stare without flinching. One of the Arab guys used the racist term "abd", as in slave, while pointing to Sylvester and she shook her head. So many of her fellow Arabs were racist and sexist. Arab males could date and marry women of any race or religion, but they would kill any Arab woman who even entertained the thought of doing the same. What was their problem? Nabeela and Sylvester were just sitting together, two new friends having coffee, nothing improper. She was sure that they did a lot more improper things with their blonde gal pals but that was acceptable in Arab society. Go figure.

Sylvester didn't seem to notice what transpired between Nabeela and the Arab guys. Neither did the blonde-haired White girls who accompanied them. Westerners were so oblivious of the true actions and intentions of Muslims in their midst. Their naïve mindset would definitely cost them one of these days. Sylvester smiled at Nabeela in that beatific way of his and she temporarily forgot all her worries. Calmly he asked her what she was doing Friday night. She replied that she'd be at her favorite mosque in the east end of Ottawa. Sylvester nodded, and went silent. Nabeela gently touched his hand and asked him what he had in mind. He smiled and told her he wanted to go see a movie. Nabeela hesitated. Truth be told, nothing would please her more than to hang out with him, but he didn't know her world, her faith or the rules that she lived by. She started saying no, then saw the crestfallen look on his handsome face and stopped. She heard herself promise him she'd clear her Saturday afternoon. Sylvester smiled, and cordially invited her to see the movie CITIZEN JANE with him. Nabeela smiled, and nodded.

When she went home, her parents, Mohammed and Mona Abdullah told her that they were going to visit her older b*****r Youssef at the University of Toronto. He was studying Law there. She bit her lips, then told them that she couldn't go because she had a group project to work on. Her parents asked her to postpone it and she told them that it was due Monday. Her father locked eyes with her, and guilt assailed Nabeela like a tidal wave. Finally, her father relented and smiled, praising Allah for giving him such a hard-working, respectful and dutiful daughter. She'd make a worthy wife for a good man someday. He'd have to be Yemeni, of course, educated and from a good f****y. They had time. Nabeela was only nineteen, and she was already in her second-year of Criminology at Carleton University. Gently he kissed her on the forehead, and wished her well. Nabeela nodded respectfully, carefully avoiding her mother's eyes. Mom was quite shrewd and usually saw right through her. Nabeela went straight to her room, and carefully locked the door before she went back on Facebook and resumed chatting with Sylvester.

That Saturday, they went to the Blair movie theater and had a blast. The movie Citizen Jane was pretty good. Sylvester was going on and on about how lovely the actress Michelle Rodriguez was and seemed really surprised when Nabeela gently elbowed him in the ribs after rolling her eyes for the thousandth time. After the movie, they went to the nearby mall and ate some delicious Chinese food. As they sat down and ate, Sylvester delighted Nabeela with tales of his life back in Boston. He used to speed on the streets of Dorchester, and also roughhouse with his peers at the Hyde Park YMCA. He considered himself a real tough guy, and hid from his friends how academically talented he was. He won a scholarship to Boston University, but ended up blowing it because of his frat-guy antics. Nabeela laughed at that, though she couldn't imagine having such freedom.

When Sylvester pressed her for details about her life, she told him in earnest about her days in the City of Dhamar in Yemen, where she lived for the first ten years of her life before her f****y moved to Ontario, Canada. Nine years later and she was a Canadian citizen, and a Criminology student at Carleton University. She shared with Sylvester something she hadn't told anyone, especially not her conservative-minded parents. She told him about her dream of someday becoming a police officer. When she told him this, Sylvester smiled at her and with utmost sincerity, he told her that she could do anything she set her mind to. A lot of people said those words to her, but he seemed to really mean them. She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back gently. Which was just about when Farah happened to walk by, arm in arm with Hoffman, her blond boyfriend. The Somali gal's eyes went wide when she saw Nabeela, who suddenly wished she could shrink in her chair to the point of being invisible. Smiling coyly, Farah walked up to them.

Sylvester looked at the Black chick with the White dude as Farah gently hugged Nabeela, who looked supremely uncomfortable. Hello b*o, said the White dude, introducing himself as Ephraim Hoffman. Sylvester smiled politely at the dude and his girlfriend, whom Farah introduced as Farah. The foursome sat at the table, an uncomfortable silence between them. Farah kept looking at Sylvester the way one looks at a specimen at the zoo. Sylvester didn't seem to care for it one bit. Farah seemed to have a lot of questions for Sylvester. Where are you from? Is that really an American accent or are you just putting us on? What are you doing with my s****r-friend? What are your intentions? Sylvester politely but firmly told Farah that he was enjoying the company of a good friend, then sidestepped any further questions by excusing himself to go to the bathroom. Farah smiled conspiratorially at Nabeela, chanting "someone's got a boyfriend" while Hoffman looked on and Nabeela squirmed.

Farah looked at Nabeela, the young Yemeni gal who had been her best friend for the past eight years. They were neighbors in the suburb of Orleans, not far from downtown Ottawa. Nabeela had always been shy, and seemingly a stickler for all rules religious and cultural, with a pronounced allergy to the male sex. And yet here she was, skipping out on the f****y trip to Toronto by going out with a guy, a Black guy who wasn't even Muslim, while she was supposed to be studying at Farah's. Wow. Farah shook her head and informed Nabeela that her parents did call her before leaving for Toronto. Farah had no clue what they were talking about when they mentioned a school project but covered for her s****r-friend anyway. She had Nabeela's back. Nabeela sighed and thanked Farah for saving her proverbial bacon, so to speak. Farah laughed, and asked Nabeela if she liked Sylvester. Nabeela was about to answer when something from behind Farah and Hoffman made her light up like a Christmas tree. Sylvester had returned from the washroom. Farah smiled. She had her answer alright. Nabeela had a crush!

Farah smiled at Sylvester and told him she was just looking out for her friend, by way of excusing her twenty one questions earlier. Sylvester flashed her a fake smile and nodded at her and Hoffman. Before Farah left, she said something in Arabic to Nabeela, whose eyes widened. Hoffman and Farah left, leaving Sylvester and Nabeela alone at the table. Sylvester smiled and politely asked Nabeela what in hell Farah just said in what sounded like Martian or Klingon to him. Nabeela took a deep breath, then told him the truth, about everything. She liked him and wanted to know him better, but she was Muslim and he was Christian. They could only meet discretely because her f****y was very strict. When Sylvester asked why, Nabeela told him the awful truth. Her f****y would kill her if they knew she was getting so close to a guy who was not only Black but also a non-Muslim. When Sylvester replied that he knew plenty of Christian and Jewish women who married Muslim males, Nabeela made another revelation to him. In the Muslim world, males were permitted to date and marry whoever they wanted, but women were bound by the rules of their father's household, then that of their husband. No Muslim woman is truly free. Not if she comes from a Muslim f****y that follows the Koran to the letter.

Sylvester sat there, and his broad shoulders sagged. Suddenly the big and tall young Black man seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. Nabeela watched him intently, willing herself to be calm though she was wracked with deep despair inside. She knew that what she revealed to him was a lot to take in. She looked at the sky through the broad doors of the mall food court, wondering why her people's interpretation of God's will was so strict and cruel. The men did whatever they wanted, and the women had to be self-effacing, quiet and obedient. Lest they be killed for the sake of honor. She was doomed to always follow tradition and never her heart. Sylvester looked at her, and she steeled herself for what she knew was coming. He would do the logical but ultimately awful thing. He would leave her, because her world was not meant for one such as him. He was a son of Black America. She was a daughter of Yemen. It could never be. They were too different. When Sylvester spoke, it was a calm and clear voice. He told her that after due consideration of all the risks involved and the danger to both their lives, he still wanted to see her. She was special in his eyes, and worth every risk. Then he took her hand in his and kissed it. Nabeela fell silent. A weak little "wow" escaped her lips. Had lightning struck her she wouldn't have been more shocked. She smiled at Sylvester, who winked at her. Arm in arm, they left the mall together. Before exiting, they stopped by the photo booth and took some pictures together. Some events were meant to be commemorated, no matter what the risk.

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She sat alone

Loving him is ill-advised, she told herself for the thousandth time as she looked at the picture of herself standing next to the one she loved the most. They were too different, she reminded herself. Yet from the first time she laid eyes on him in that Sociology class in September 2011, she couldn't stop thinking about him. In the eyes of most people, she was strange and she knew it. The quiet and fun Carleton University campus in Canada's capital was quite diverse. Lots of students from places like Africa, the Caribbean, Latin America, Southeast Asia and the Middle East. Yet Nabeela Marzuq was painfully aware of the stares she got everywhere she went. Simply because she was a short, slender Arab gal wearing a modest hijab along with her T-shirt and jeans. To most people, she would never be more than that. So many people seem to forget that Muslim women who dress conservatively are still women. Nabeela was used to being invisible, or, to put it mildly, her hijab was visible and she wasn't. Not the person she was underneath. And she was resigned to her apparent fate, until she met...him.

The first day of classes, he showed up late. Tall, dark and handsome. Clad in a bright green T-shirt featuring Paul Pierce of the Boston Celtics, black jeans and boots. The sight of him set her heart afire, and she felt her cheeks redden. Of course he had to come sit next to her. She sat alone in a row meant to seat six students, and felt more than a bit alone. She was the only hijabi in class. Her other friend Farah, a tall and slender Somali gal, never wore the hijab. That day Farah wore a red tank top, short black skirt and black leather boots. She sat next to her boyfriend Hoffman, a blond-haired and blue-eyed student from Heidelberg, Germany. Nabeela shook her head at Farah as she gently touched Hoffman, then kissed him right there in front of everybody.

How Nabeela admired and feared Farah's boldness, even though she occasionally chastised her friend for being too upfront about everything. Being female and Muslim meant a life of discretion, that's what Nabeela's mother and grandmother taught her back in Yemen. However, living in Ontario was slowly changing her. Somalis and Yemenis were both present in large numbers among the immigrant populace of metropolitan Ottawa, Ontario. Yet they couldn't be more different, in spite of the relative proximity of both nations and the usually friendly relations between them. Most Somalis living in Canada were living their lives the western way. Very few bothered with wearing traditional clothes from the Somali motherland, and quite a few indulged in western vices like drinking, having casual sex and partying hard. Farah Muhammad, Nabeela's best friend, was such a gal. and she was by no means unique among the Somali people of Canada's capital.

Nabeela's thoughts returned to the towering young Black man who took her breath away. He seemed different somehow, and unlike just about every male student on campus, he seemed to notice her. Really notice her. He smiled politely as he sat just one seat away from her, wished her a good day and asked her what he missed. Her silence didn't deter him, not one beat. He asked her if she was shy and told her that he was new to the school. In spite of herself, she found herself puzzled by this talkative young Black man. He had an accent which she couldn't place. He didn't sound like the African immigrant students she knew, nor did he sound like the ones from the Caribbean. She looked him in the eyes and asked him where he was from. The stranger grinned from ear to ear and introduced himself. Sylvester Vector, from Boston, Massachusetts. He proudly pointed to the Boston Celtics logo on his T-shirt, and she noticed the oversized cross hanging around his neck. So, he was a Christian. Okay.

Sylvester Vector looked at the short, hijab-wearing Arab gal. So she could talk, cool. He was beginning to wonder if she was a mute or if she had taken a vow of silence or something. He didn't know much about Muslims, at least not those Muslims he ran into in Canada. He knew Arabs and other Muslims in the United States. The ones he knew were VERY different from the Canadian Muslims. The Arab chicks he knew in Boston didn't wear hijabs. They wore western clothes, and did all the things that normal western women did. They went to parties, dated whoever they liked, smoked cigarettes, and totally owned their sexuality and were bold and confident women of the world. The Muslim chicks he ran into during his first sixty days in Canada lived as though they were still in the Middle East or Africa or wherever the bulk of them came from. Wow. It's almost as if the clock had stopped for them. Oh, well. Whatever floats their boat, he thought. Different strokes for different folks and all that.

Sylvester was quite surprised when the young Arab woman sitting one seat away from him smiled shyly and introduced herself as Nabeela. He smiled politely, and refrained from shaking her hand. From his time among the Canadians, he learned a bit about the cultures and norms of Middle-Easterners. They weren't a touchy-feely group, especially the women. He seemed to be in for an afternoon of surprises, for the young Arab woman extended her hand for him to shake. Hesitantly he shook her hand, and she nodded. She looked at him with those big brown eyes of hers and asked him what an American was doing in Canada. Sylvester smiled and told her the tale he'd been telling his Canadian friends ever since he got to Ottawa. His father, Boston Police Department sergeant Stewart Vector banished him to Ontario, Canada, after a lackluster year at Boston University. Sylvester joined a fraternity, and developed bad habits like smoking, drinking and skipping class. He ended up on academic probation and his dad felt that something drastic had to be done. That's how he got shipped off to Canada. The most boring place known to man. Talk about reverse Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Damn.

Nabeela laughed when he shared that with her. Sylvester cocked an eyebrow. Apparently even Arab chicks in Canada knew about the show he loved while growing up in Boston's Hyde Park neighborhood. The sociology professor, a bespectacled Hispanic-looking lady in her fifties, glared at the tall Black guy who sat in the front row, giggling with the Arab gal. She didn't seem to approve. Nabeela shot Sylvester a conspiratorial look, and he shrugged. By the time class ended, things were off to a nice start between them. Sylvester told her about his uncle Jamal Vector, a former brawler turned night club bouncer who converted to Islam while spending two weeks in prison for assault. The guy changed completely when he came out, though friends and f****y initially thought it was a phase. Apparently, his uncle's change of heart was genuine. He stopped drinking, stopped getting into trouble and became a better father to the three sons and two daughters he sired on four women whom he never married.

Nowadays, uncle Jamal was back in school, enrolled at Massasoit Community College while working as a security company supervisor. Not bad for a guy with a record as long as an interstate highway. Nabeela smiled and told Sylvester that the power of God could change the human heart. Sylvester nodded. Whether you call yourself Jewish, Christian or Muslim, there is only one God. Call Him God, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah or simply The Most High. Only one entity reigned supreme in the cosmos. The Creator of all. Nabeela smiled as Sylvester shared his view on religion with her. At first glance she dismissed him as a wannabe street tough judging by his oversized cross and hip-hop inspired outfits. The cross he wore was more like a rapper's bling than a Christian icon. Still, after speaking to him for about an hour, she thought he was much deeper than he appeared. When class ended, she surprised herself...and him...by asking if she could add him on Facebook. Sylvester took out his touchscreen phone and looked her up on Facebook. He misspelled her last name, so she had to add him instead. Yes, Nabeela Abdullah, the most prim and proper Yemeni gal in all of Canada, took an uncharacteristically bold step and added a strange, roughly handsome Black Christian guy from the States as her Facebook friend.

As they exited class together, Sylvester looked into her eyes, smiled that goofy smile of his, and told her that he was glad to know her. Then he nodded respectfully, wished her a good day and walked away. Nabeela stood there, frozen in place. When he looked into her eyes just then, her heart practically leaped from her chest. She'd seen good-looking men before, but there was something different about him. So many people out there wore masks or put up a front. Sylvester wasn't like that. There was something about him...she knew it in her bones. So absorbed was she by her wayward thoughts that she barely noticed when her good friend Farah, the Somali gal who worshipped blond guys, casually bumped into her. Her boyfriend Hoffman was with her. Farah and Hoffman exchanged a steamy kiss, then Hoffman wished her goodbye and took off. Farah watched Hoffman go and smiled. When Nabeela didn't say anything, Farah rolled her eyes, thinking that her conservative friend was going to launch into another discussion why Muslim girls should stay away from men who weren't Muslim.

To Farah's amazement, Nabeela did no such thing. Instead, Nabeela asked Farah if Hoffman really made her happy, if he understood and cared for her, even though he was Jewish and not Muslim. Farah smiled and, from Nabeela's viewpoint, the Somali gal seemed to almost glow from within. Calmly, Farah said she was in love with Hoffman and would do anything to be with him. Nabeela gently hugged the young Black woman she considered the s****r she never had but always wanted, and wished her good luck in her loving relationship. Farah laughed, and asked Nabeela if she was feeling alright. Typically, Nabeela was a real stickler for every Islamic rule ever written and a real downer at times. Why was she so upbeat? Nabeela smiled mysteriously and waved at Farah before walking away.

That night, Nabeela stayed up in her dorm and spent two hours chatting on Facebook with Sylvester. The next morning, she ran into Sylvester inside the university center and they ended up grabbing coffee together. As they sat at a table and chatted, three Arab guys walked by, flanked by a pair of tall, blonde-haired white girls. They spotted Nabeela sitting with Sylvester and glared at the two of them while muttering to themselves in Arabic. Nabeela's heart thundered in her chest but she returned their stare without flinching. One of the Arab guys used the racist term "abd", as in slave, while pointing to Sylvester and she shook her head. So many of her fellow Arabs were racist and sexist. Arab males could date and marry women of any race or religion, but they would kill any Arab woman who even entertained the thought of doing the same. What was their problem? Nabeela and Sylvester were just sitting together, two new friends having coffee, nothing improper. She was sure that they did a lot more improper things with their blonde gal pals but that was acceptable in Arab society. Go figure.

Sylvester didn't seem to notice what transpired between Nabeela and the Arab guys. Neither did the blonde-haired White girls who accompanied them. Westerners were so oblivious of the true actions and intentions of Muslims in their midst. Their naïve mindset would definitely cost them one of these days. Sylvester smiled at Nabeela in that beatific way of his and she temporarily forgot all her worries. Calmly he asked her what she was doing Friday night. She replied that she'd be at her favorite mosque in the east end of Ottawa. Sylvester nodded, and went silent. Nabeela gently touched his hand and asked him what he had in mind. He smiled and told her he wanted to go see a movie. Nabeela hesitated. Truth be told, nothing would please her more than to hang out with him, but he didn't know her world, her faith or the rules that she lived by. She started saying no, then saw the crestfallen look on his handsome face and stopped. She heard herself promise him she'd clear her Saturday afternoon. Sylvester smiled, and cordially invited her to see the movie CITIZEN JANE with him. Nabeela smiled, and nodded.

When she went home, her parents, Mohammed and Mona Abdullah told her that they were going to visit her older b*****r Youssef at the University of Toronto. He was studying Law there. She bit her lips, then told them that she couldn't go because she had a group project to work on. Her parents asked her to postpone it and she told them that it was due Monday. Her father locked eyes with her, and guilt assailed Nabeela like a tidal wave. Finally, her father relented and smiled, praising Allah for giving him such a hard-working, respectful and dutiful daughter. She'd make a worthy wife for a good man someday. He'd have to be Yemeni, of course, educated and from a good f****y. They had time. Nabeela was only nineteen, and she was already in her second-year of Criminology at Carleton University. Gently he kissed her on the forehead, and wished her well. Nabeela nodded respectfully, carefully avoiding her mother's eyes. Mom was quite shrewd and usually saw right through her. Nabeela went straight to her room, and carefully locked the door before she went back on Facebook and resumed chatting with Sylvester.

That Saturday, they went to the Blair movie theater and had a blast. The movie Citizen Jane was pretty good. Sylvester was going on and on about how lovely the actress Michelle Rodriguez was and seemed really surprised when Nabeela gently elbowed him in the ribs after rolling her eyes for the thousandth time. After the movie, they went to the nearby mall and ate some delicious Chinese food. As they sat down and ate, Sylvester delighted Nabeela with tales of his life back in Boston. He used to speed on the streets of Dorchester, and also roughhouse with his peers at the Hyde Park YMCA. He considered himself a real tough guy, and hid from his friends how academically talented he was. He won a scholarship to Boston University, but ended up blowing it because of his frat-guy antics. Nabeela laughed at that, though she couldn't imagine having such freedom.

When Sylvester pressed her for details about her life, she told him in earnest about her days in the City of Dhamar in Yemen, where she lived for the first ten years of her life before her f****y moved to Ontario, Canada. Nine years later and she was a Canadian citizen, and a Criminology student at Carleton University. She shared with Sylvester something she hadn't told anyone, especially not her conservative-minded parents. She told him about her dream of someday becoming a police officer. When she told him this, Sylvester smiled at her and with utmost sincerity, he told her that she could do anything she set her mind to. A lot of people said those words to her, but he seemed to really mean them. She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back gently. Which was just about when Farah happened to walk by, arm in arm with Hoffman, her blond boyfriend. The Somali gal's eyes went wide when she saw Nabeela, who suddenly wished she could shrink in her chair to the point of being invisible. Smiling coyly, Farah walked up to them.

Sylvester looked at the Black chick with the White dude as Farah gently hugged Nabeela, who looked supremely uncomfortable. Hello b*o, said the White dude, introducing himself as Ephraim Hoffman. Sylvester smiled politely at the dude and his girlfriend, whom Farah introduced as Farah. The foursome sat at the table, an uncomfortable silence between them. Farah kept looking at Sylvester the way one looks at a specimen at the zoo. Sylvester didn't seem to care for it one bit. Farah seemed to have a lot of questions for Sylvester. Where are you from? Is that really an American accent or are you just putting us on? What are you doing with my s****r-friend? What are your intentions? Sylvester politely but firmly told Farah that he was enjoying the company of a good friend, then sidestepped any further questions by excusing himself to go to the bathroom. Farah smiled conspiratorially at Nabeela, chanting "someone's got a boyfriend" while Hoffman looked on and Nabeela squirmed.

Farah looked at Nabeela, the young Yemeni gal who had been her best friend for the past eight years. They were neighbors in the suburb of Orleans, not far from downtown Ottawa. Nabeela had always been shy, and seemingly a stickler for all rules religious and cultural, with a pronounced allergy to the male sex. And yet here she was, skipping out on the f****y trip to Toronto by going out with a guy, a Black guy who wasn't even Muslim, while she was supposed to be studying at Farah's. Wow. Farah shook her head and informed Nabeela that her parents did call her before leaving for Toronto. Farah had no clue what they were talking about when they mentioned a school project but covered for her s****r-friend anyway. She had Nabeela's back. Nabeela sighed and thanked Farah for saving her proverbial bacon, so to speak. Farah laughed, and asked Nabeela if she liked Sylvester. Nabeela was about to answer when something from behind Farah and Hoffman made her light up like a Christmas tree. Sylvester had returned from the washroom. Farah smiled. She had her answer alright. Nabeela had a crush!

Farah smiled at Sylvester and told him she was just looking out for her friend, by way of excusing her twenty one questions earlier. Sylvester flashed her a fake smile and nodded at her and Hoffman. Before Farah left, she said something in Arabic to Nabeela, whose eyes widened. Hoffman and Farah left, leaving Sylvester and Nabeela alone at the table. Sylvester smiled and politely asked Nabeela what in hell Farah just said in what sounded like Martian or Klingon to him. Nabeela took a deep breath, then told him the truth, about everything. She liked him and wanted to know him better, but she was Muslim and he was Christian. They could only meet discretely because her f****y was very strict. When Sylvester asked why, Nabeela told him the awful truth. Her f****y would kill her if they knew she was getting so close to a guy who was not only Black but also a non-Muslim. When Sylvester replied that he knew plenty of Christian and Jewish women who married Muslim males, Nabeela made another revelation to him. In the Muslim world, males were permitted to date and marry whoever they wanted, but women were bound by the rules of their father's household, then that of their husband. No Muslim woman is truly free. Not if she comes from a Muslim f****y that follows the Koran to the letter.

Sylvester sat there, and his broad shoulders sagged. Suddenly the big and tall young Black man seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. Nabeela watched him intently, willing herself to be calm though she was wracked with deep despair inside. She knew that what she revealed to him was a lot to take in. She looked at the sky through the broad doors of the mall food court, wondering why her people's interpretation of God's will was so strict and cruel. The men did whatever they wanted, and the women had to be self-effacing, quiet and obedient. Lest they be killed for the sake of honor. She was doomed to always follow tradition and never her heart. Sylvester looked at her, and she steeled herself for what she knew was coming. He would do the logical but ultimately awful thing. He would leave her, because her world was not meant for one such as him. He was a son of Black America. She was a daughter of Yemen. It could never be. They were too different. When Sylvester spoke, it was a calm and clear voice. He told her that after due consideration of all the risks involved and the danger to both their lives, he still wanted to see her. She was special in his eyes, and worth every risk. Then he took her hand in his and kissed it. Nabeela fell silent. A weak little "wow" escaped her lips. Had lightning struck her she wouldn't have been more shocked. She smiled at Sylvester, who winked at her. Arm in arm, they left the mall together. Before exiting, they stopped by the photo booth and took some pictures together. Some events were meant to be commemorated, no matter what the risk.

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