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I was intrigued. I had welcomed a couple onto the bbs that I
frequent, and was surprised when I received an enthusiastic reply from
them. They’d read and enjoyed several of my stories, and we began a
regular exchange. As it turned out, it was Linda that did most of the
writing in the letters, while Randy added his comments every once in a
while. Our letters became more and more intimate, hotter, and sexier as
time went by. We started out with friendly exchanges, and my giving some
tips about pussy shaving, a favorite “kink” of mine. Linda’s enthusiasm
intrigued me more and more. I’d known women who like sex, and a few who
really enjoyed it, but damn few who would sit and talk about it openly. I
could feel a certain electricity between us, one that had nothing to do
with computers, modems or phone lines. (more…)

When I awoke, I lay there for a few minutes trying to sort things
out. The clock said 9:08. After reminding myself that this was a
Saturday and I did not have to go into the place I laughingly refer to
as “work,” I began to wonder: Had I dreamed it? No; there was a wet spot
where she’d lain. And I became aware of the aroma of fresh coffee (half-
Sumatra, quarter-pound each of French-roasted Mexican Altura and French-
roasted Colombian, dripped in a Braun Melitta-filter pot) I rolled to my
feet, pulled on my faded blue terrycloth robe, slipped into my slippers
(clever name for them, eh?) and thwap-thwapped into the living room.
Elly had opened the shutters and glorious sunshine was pouring in
through the fourth-floor windows of my tenement apartment. She was doing
wonderful things for my old, blue Dior robe (the tattered one that came
halfway to my calves). A cup of The Good Stuff was on the battered old
oak table next to the love seat and she’d switched the stereo to play
through the living room speakers, the ones in the books shelves. (more…)

A beautiful red head, looking prim and proper, sat at the table next
to me in the pub, with her long legs crossed and her serious looking
face planted in a book. I had just walked into the Coffee House when
I noticed her and she looked up from her book and gave me one long
appraising look. Her eyes walked up one side of my body and down the
other, stopping in significant places and continuing on with some
slight hesitation. Then her eyes closed, she shook her head, and
returned to her book. I had seen part of her look and decided that
I’d introduce myself.

I walked over and asked her if she minded if I shared her table. It
was early and there were several tables available, but I wanted to
chance it anyways. She said it was fine and then went back to her
book. (more…)

Archive-title: Goody Goodie Girls - 1

CHAPTER ONE

Maggie Peters was starting her senior year in Blasedalte High as
sexually unsated as she had ended the previous semester. She was so
horny, every time she took a step she could feel her panties dampen
more and suck up into the rubbery slit of her hot little pussy. After
a lonely summer at her grandparent’s farm in Nebraska, she had
returned to Rochester, New York, no more hopeful than when she had
left.

She was a delicate looking eighteen year old with dark hair and a
petite figure. Her breasts, like the rest of the women in her family,
were unusually large, making her waist appear even tinier than it was
in her pale blue blouse. She wore a pleated skirt, knee high socks and
saddle shoes. Her soft brown eyes scanned the corridor until she
located her best friend, Karen Sheen.

Karen, a fetching blonde with the same big-breasted problem as
her friend, waved when she spotted Maggie. “Hi,” she gushed, excited
to see her friend. “Boy, did I miss you. How was the farm?”

“A farm,” Maggie answered without any enthusiasm. “Are these our
lockers?”

“That’s yours and this is mine,” Karen said, patting a door
separated by another locker.

“Couldn’t we get them side by side?”

“I tried, but this is what they gave me.”

“Wonder what kind of dork the put between us?”

“Hey, don’t be so down. We’re seniors. One more year of this
prison and we’re free for good.”

Maggie forced a grin. “That’s the first encouraging thing I’ve
heard since I got back.”

“Didn’t you meet any boys or anything while you were out there?”

Maggie hung her sweater in her locker and shut the door. “I don’t
think they have boys in Nebraska,” she said above the din of
youngsters racing to their classes.

“Then you didn’t lose it?” Karen asked shyly.

“Lose what?”

“You know,” Karen said, shifting her weight from side to side and
lowering her eyes. “Your cherry.”

The two girls had made a pact at the end of the last term that
this summer would be the season of their deflowering.
(more…)

Q: What’s the fluid capacity of Monica Lewinsky’s mouth?
A: 1 U.S. leader

Q: What do you call a virgin on a waterbed?
A: A cherry float.

Q: What did the sign on the door of the whorehouse say?
A: Beat it - we’re closed.

Q: Why do walruses go to Tupperware parties?
A: To find a tight seal.

Q: What’s the difference between sin and shame?
A: It is a sin to put it in, but it’s a shame to pull it out.

Q: What’s the speed limit of sex?
A: 68; at 69 you have to turn around.

Q: Why did Raggedy Ann get thrown out of the toy box?
A: She kept sitting on Pinocchio’s face, and moaning, “Lie to me!”

Q: Why is air a lot like sex?
A: Because it’s no big deal unless you’re not getting any.

Q: If there isH2O on the inside of a fire hydrant, what is on the outside?
A: K9P.

Q: What’s another name for pickled bread?
A: Dill-dough.

Q: Why are Monica Lewinsky’s cheeks so puffy?
A: She’s withholding evidence.

Q: What’s the difference between light and hard?
A: You can sleep with a light on.

Q: Why is sex like a bridge game?
A: You don’t need a partner if you have a good hand.

Q: What’s the height of conceit?
A: Having an orgasm and calling out your own name.

Q: What’s the definition of macho?
A: Jogging home from your own vasectomy.

Q: What do a Christmas tree and a priest have in common?
A: Their balls are just for decoration.

Q: Why don’t blind people like to sky dive?
A: Because it scares the hell out of the dog.

Q: Why is divorce so expensive?
A: Because it’s worth it.

Q: What’s the best way to kill a man?
A: Put a naked blonde and a six-pack in front of him.
Then tell him to pick only one.

Q: Why do men whistle when they’re sitting on the toilet?
A: Because it helps them remember which end they need to wipe.

Q: What is the difference between men and women?
A: A woman wants one man to satisfy her every need. A man wants every
woman to satisfy his one need.

Q: How does a man keep his youth?
A: By giving her money, furs and diamonds.

Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail?
A: Rename the mail folder to instruction manuals

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