Here’s my previous post on this guy: [https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/amyebx/the_second_meeting_mf/](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/amyebx/the_second_meeting_mf/)
My Navy Corpsman (me) Marine (them) Gangbang [Group]
Hi Y’all,
Here on Presidents Day I thought I’d share a story (long one, jump down for the good stuff) of a very memorable Presidents Day that took place when I was in the Navy. For those that don’t know I was once a Navy Corpsman back in the mid 90s (yes I’m old). One of the places I was stationed was at Roosevelt Roads Naval Air Station in Puerto Rico (when it was still open, don’t ask me my opinion of Puerto Rico unless you want a very honest opinion). I worked at the Naval Hospital and lived in nearby Fajardo in a pretty nice apartment tower called Dos Marinas.
One of the least popular things to do in the Navy is pull Duty. Duty means you have to show up to work as normal and once your day ends you go on Duty which means you sit and become the hospital answer desk for 12 hrs until the hospital comes to life again the following day. If who you work for is nice they’ll let you get some rest once you come off Duty but in my case I had to go back to work as at the Internal and Flight medicine clinic. That next day happened to be President’s Day but there was a group of Marine helicopter pilots off the USS Wasp needing some physicals. The Wasp which is essentially a Marine troop carrier had pulled in for refueling and R&R. Because of this I knew there were going to be a ton of Marines everywhere looking for fun and as a burgeoning slut I wasn’t about to miss that opportunity.
Bar Three [MF, FM]
We walk through the bar, to the banquet room at the back. The sign says “private event,” with no other description. They couldn’t, really. The regular bar patrons would stare or leave or complain. She looks at me, I nod, and she opens the door. There is a wall of curtains. They don’t want anyone casually looking in. We navigate around the curtains, and as we enter the big room, half the room turns to survey us, head to toe. We are the new meat.
Nine years in, but we both found our seven-year-itch. There are too many symptoms, some shallow, some deep. Emotional needs, evolving sexual desires, and even a bit of arrogance on both our parts, that maybe we each could have done better.
She had a lower sex drive years before, but turning forty had put her into overdrive. She lost weight, toned up her legs and ass and abs, and treated herself to “tasteful” implants. She chose a “full C,” quite a change from the barely there A-cups that I lamely call her A-pluses for almost a decade. She still has the mousy hair and eyeglasses, a librarian from the neck up, a porn-ready body from the neck down.
Back of the Bar [FM, MF]
We walk through the bar, to the banquet room at the back. The sign says “private event,” with no other description. They couldn’t, really. The regular bar patrons would stare or leave or complain. She looks at me, I nod, and she opens the door. There is a wall of curtains. They don’t want anyone casually looking in. We navigate around the curtains, and as we enter the big room, half the room turns to survey us, head to toe.We are the new meat.
Nine years in, but we both found our seven-year-itch. There are too many symptoms, some shallow, some deep. Emotional needs, evolving sexual desires, and even a bit of arrogance on both our parts, that maybe we each could have done better.
She had a lower sex drive years before, but turning forty had put her into overdrive. She lost weight, toned up her legs and ass and abs, and treated herself to “tasteful” implants. She chose a “full C,” quite a change from the barely there A-cups that I lamely call her A-pluses for almost a decade. She still has the mousy hair and eyeglasses, a librarian from the neck up, a porn-ready body from the neck down.
Vacation with the Bestie Plus One [MFF] [Oral]
Karen’s love for spontaneity never fully left as she aged. Her and I have been friends since the 1st grade and it was like she was my other half. We both grew up in a rather to-do family, so to speak, and we both enjoyed everything that life threw at us. We eventually graduated top of our class in 2004 and spent the last ten years working on our degrees, Psychology for myself and Law for her. College was simple enough for two budding misfits. Sure, we went to parties and even with a shared apartment we rented together we still had time for ourselves and for dick when the time became available. We were like every other college kid at that time. Alcohol and sex were common even if it was casual and tame to most standards. Luck or fate may have had a hand in our ability to miss out on getting into serious trouble, though there were times where both of us could have potentially ruined any opportunity we would have later in life. Once residency for myself hit and she was working on hitting the bar exam, things seemed to go quiet as we were both highly focused on our pursuit for a degree and landing our dream jobs.
25 [F] Crappy Valentines client
I woke up this morning in a bad mood. I realized that I’m single. After being married for so long you kind of get used to the routine. I grabbed my phone and it’s the usual hundreds of messages from random guys.
I like the attention
I shower and get dressed. I realize how much I’m starting to waddle from spot to spot. The pregnancy definitely is taking over my body. I drive to my first client which luckily was only around 20 minutes away from my house. He had a pretty messed up yard but a nice car out front. At this point I’m used to showing up at random peoples houses. With time you have no shame in what you are. He answered the door and I walked in.
He was good looking and in his 40’s. I could see his eyes just undressing me. He offered me a drink and I declined. He led me to his room and he sat on the bed. I began to undress. I know the routine. He kept telling me how sexy I was and I just finished undressing putting my clothes in a beat pile next to some empty coke cans and an old box of pizza. He pushed me onto the bed and quickly went down on me.
Pegging My Husband [bdsm] [mf] [femdom]
[https://eroticlitt.blogspot.com/2018/10/pegging-my-husband.html](https://eroticlitt.blogspot.com/2018/10/pegging-my-husband.html)
Casey Holt Erotica novels, novellas and short story collections are available on Amazon.com.
Chained and Spanked Mother, Ch. 12 [inc, M/s, BDSM, slow, mdom, spank, rough]
Chained and Spanked Mother,
by DiscipleN
. . . a fan prequel to Kathy Andrews’ 1984, raunchy novel, “Chained and Spanked Sister” . . .
Chapter 12
One day, weeks later than the boys had planned, their sawing and hammering in the cellar ended. A cold shiver shot through Joan, upon their sudden silence.
It was late. Peggy was probably pretending to study in her room, and her husband was entranced by the TV. Joan sat at the kitchen table reading the latest book club novel.
When the cellar door creaked open, Joan dropped her novel and shot up from her chair, aiming for the living room.
“Wait, Momma.” Robert called.
Years of being a proper mother, caused Joan to hesitate at her son’s voice.
“Come down here. We need you.”
“Certainly not!” She hissed. You’ve hurt me every time we’re alone!” She complained.
***
Broke my hymen [29F] with a small bottle [FM]
I always imagine how it feels like a cock inside me but due to religious reasons I was not allowed to have sex out of marriage and sex toys are not available in my place. Day by day, I wonder how it feels when someone is pounding me from behind while he is rubbing my clit and pressing my breast that’s how I ended up masturbating. It starting from crossing myself then watching porn and i’ve learned to rub my clit and insert my finger but my body wants something more and I couldnt take that feeling anymore.that’s when I decided to insert a small bottle inside my tight pussy..It was so hard to insert but the moment it started I couldnt stop myself to fuck myself deeper and faster while Im bleeding and You read it right, I broke my own hymen from a small bottle..
[Mf] [cons] [caution] Pleasantdale
They had been driving all day. And the forecast for the next three days was “more of the same”.
He was hoping to make it to the next major town, but they had run into traffic a couple times too many, and he was tired of driving. There was no way he’d make it another two hours without falling asleep at the wheel. There was a small town a few miles ahead, and then nothing but fields and cows for at least another hour. They’d have to make do with what they had: “Exit 341 Pleasantdale 1/2 mile” the sign said.
“Pleasantdale it is” they agreed, as he pulled off the interstate and she asked the GPS to lead them to a hotel. Not many choices, again. Only one hotel. It was going to have to make do. After all, their stop was but a small town of 4000 souls. Probably a truck stop more than anything else.