On the first morning that Harriet woke up next to the young tan man beside her who barely spoke a word of English, she worried to herself, “Have I made a foolish mistake?”. 35 years of mornings later and she smiled as she watched the sleeping tan man in her life lay next to her, and she reveled in knowing that it was the best foolish mistake she had ever made.
The woman I picked up at the bar sucked me off like no one ever had.
I’m still not sure what surprised me more: when she said, “Your turn” and lifted up her dress to reveal an erect cock, or when I leaned in to return the favor.
Pieces of her ended up in the fridge. Inside the freezer, her lifeless eyes stare coldly at her heart— blaming it for her shortcomings.
I’d really like to sleep with the barrista at my favourite coffee shop. But if things get awkward I’ll never get to have one of their fantastic lattes ever again.
His penis slipped inside her.
‘Stop, I beg you!’
He wakes with a terrible hangover and is nearly sickened when he discovers, lying opposite him at the foot of the bed, the now horribly ugly creature he believes he had sex with during the night. On further inspection he realizes it is his own reflection he sees in the mirrored wall.
The first time I slept over, we were sober and did not make love. But in the morning, there was warm skin under the covers, then coffee, then trust.
When they married, he was four times her age but they got along marvelously. Then some asshole invented Viagra.
I’m sometimes criticized for being cold but I opened up my heart once. All I have to show for it is an STD.
He loved their sex life. She loved her rabbit.
Sex is a word that was, or perhaps still is without bad meaning.
Only our filfthy minds refuzes to accept this simple truth.
Most female students interviewed echo the feelings of Matti Malard who has a nearby room and says, “I’ve seen Mr. Overton and he’s dremy, it make me excited being in his building, and maybe he’ll drag me to his room next and ‘do’ me.
Reluctantly, Nancy slid her fingers from between Jim’s lips. She needed both hands to undo a stubborn button.
No, no; don’t worry – this wasn’t going against that thing her parents had taught her when she was a little girl. Admiring from afar; sending the buttons flying as she used her eyes to rip the shirt off his chest; and imagining in graphic detail the sweat trapped between their bodies during a steamy encounter in the nearest motel: even though she had never met the guy, she was sure none of these things qualified as “talking to strangers.”
She knew the man who broke her heart would be at her best friend’s wedding, and she wished to God she could show up with a fabulous Romanian fiancé of obscure royal descent who would give her ex the evil eye and dance too close to her at the reception. An unfortunate booking accident at the local hotel would have them staying next door to each other, and the ex would toss and turn for several miserable hours trying to ignore the animal screams of ecstasy audible through the paper-thin walls.
So I tells him, “My thighs, they been involved in numerous accidents, so ya better have insurance, hon’.” And the devil goes and grabs my ankles and makes me spread my legs.
We graduated virgins, and made sure that title didn’t stick for long. How was I to know it would drive him to insanity?
You love me for my sincerity, honesty and good moral values.
I wish you loved me for my huge cock and dirty fucking.
I toned down what I really thought so you’d go out with me.
Marxism vs Sex – you know what people will always choose, right?
When I wrote to you and told you about that dream I had with you, I didn’t mention that we were having sex.
I have no idea why I dreamt that, but it was fricken hot and now I’m wondering …