It happened when I went to my friend’s bachelorette party in Vegas. I was feeling a little bitter since I was the only one from the group that didn’t have a ring or didn’t have a boyfriend, so it felt like a perfect time to find someone to hook up and have fun with.
My wife and I are childhood sweethearts, we got married when my wife was 21 and I was 23 and although people said we were young…
We are a dirty, flirty, and slightly older couple who enjoy the finer things in life. We have been married for 20 years, we love nice restaurants, vacations, the beach, and of course, sex.
How do you deal with something you know is entirely wrong, but feels incredibly good? I just don’t know what to do about this.
My girlfriend has been driving me wild with all of her pleading and teasing, she is insatiable. Her cravings for sex are through the roof and since I have been working from home it makes her want to distract me 24/7 so that I can fuck her.
Courtney dressed up for me last weekend and I just couldn’t resist sharing how cute she looked. If you haven’t seen our previous submissions make sure you do! Our first, this is our second and our third submission.
We have talked about this off and on for months and finally, it’s time to take the next step.
Unlike a lot of people that submit posts like this, it may come as a surprise to some of you reading here that we aren’t dating. Me (Lori), my friend Freddie (in the submission), and Shane who is behind the camera are just friends who basically fuck. I was dating Freddie on and off for a few months when we realized that we didn’t work emotionally but physically we were like two peas in a pod.
There’s something to be said when all of your girlfriend’s exes have been below average and you’re the first big guy she has dated.
I never understood the way people dream about their past lovers. In my mind it went like this – you meet them, you fuck them and once it’s over you forget and hope for something better. I didn’t understand what other people were talking about until I met Seth.
