Episodios

  • The Demure Sex-Maniac Wife

    The Demure Sex-Maniac Wife
    Jan 10 2026
    The Demure Sex-Maniac WifeWhen Ed met Elena, he knew she had a few secrets.Based on posts by Total Turn On. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.As they say, it was a whirlwind affair.Marriage happened after just three months. Even our most cynical friends, tossing confetti over us as we left the register office, had to admit we were made for each other.The only person with any doubts was me.Not because I doubted our relationship. I knew Elena loved me; and I, her.I just doubted myself.Elena was not just out of my league. She wasn't even playing the same game.Don't get me wrong. I've fucked beautiful women. But often this was at the end of the night, as the club was clearing out. In simple terms, I'm not the kind of guy to be a first choice for women like Elena. My experiences had proved I was more of an acceptable second or third choice, depending on whatever else was available.I didn't complain.Those women whom I'd loved in the past, I had thought were beautiful, of course. But I knew the difference between what I appreciated, and what the rest of the world considered beautiful and sexy.Elena was both. She turned the heads of guys when she walked into a room. She made other women frown.I thought she was achingly beautiful, with a body designed by God to show others how good they can be.Ever had that jealous look from other guys, when you're with your woman? Yeah, I saw that a lot.Elena knew what she had, of course. But this is the best thing: She ignored it. She was vivacious, and fun to be around. Women might frown initially, but it was impossible not to like her, after a few minutes of talking to her.And I loved her from the moment I saw her profile on a dating app. She had just moved into the area, she had written. She had no friends. No boyfriend, even. Happy to meet people just to show her around. Or maybe more?I saw that that she'd selected hook-ups as a relationship option. That'd be nice, I guessed. But I didn't pay much attention to it.It would become important later.I swiped right. Astonishingly, she did too. We chatted. Flirted a little. I said I'd show her around her new town.And I did. We became tourists in our city. We agreed to meet on Lake Street and Wabash, near the El Train platform. Our walking tour focused on the Chicago attractions and historic attractions.At the end of the day we had a brief meal. And then, walked back to the train platform where several movies romanticized the city life. With a peck on my cheek by way of thanks, she caught the train back home, about 2 miles north.That, I thought, was it. A great day with a great woman. I took another train to the west, about 10 blocks.Great conversation. I should be happy for the opportunity. I'd give it the requisite day or two and then message her. But I wasn't optimistic.I'd barely been able to take my eyes of her amazing body, during our date. I began to enjoy walking behind her and watching her ass. I enjoyed sitting opposite her as we had coffee and catching occasional glances at her incredible cleavage, and imagining the dangling tits she had strapped in her thin bra.It was almost funny how outrageously sexual she was. She just had it, whatever it was. Sensuality oozed from her being.A Second Opportunity.Later that evening following our date, I had my cock in my hand and was scrolling through photographs on her dating app profile when a message appeared from her:"You’ve been a delightful escort, today. And a fine gentleman. Want to come over for some wine?"“Well, yes. I certainly would.”We didn't get to drink any wine. This became clear as soon as she opened the door with a smile that I'll never forget.She took my hand and led me upstairs.We undressed.And then we fucked. Hurriedly and hotly. I hadn't had pussy for a few months and, evidently, she hadn't had cock for some time, either.It was basic, missionary sex. There had been the presence of foreplay but, as my hand had explored her body, she had whispered in my ear: "Fuck me now."She came within less than a minute, and then again 30 seconds later. I filled the condom at the same time. We lay in the darkness until she said, "You know, this connection might become serious."We saw each other daily. I couldn't wait until my working day was over and we met up. We both worked near the Chicago River district.We fucked relentlessly. If she stayed overnight, I became used to being woken up by her tongue swirling around my cock. Sometimes we fucked in that lazy morning way, too. Sometimes she simply milked me with her mouth, greedily gulping down my sperm.And that's the thing. She was a natural when it came to sex. She just had skills. She knew exactly how to give somebody pleasure. To give me pleasure. And, to be fair. I knew how to return the favor. I woke her up some mornings with my lips against her soft pussy. I loved the taste of her. With my fingers inside her, fucking her wetness, I loved being in control of her orgasms. She loved my condominium. We had more ...
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  • Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 2

    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 2
    Jan 10 2026
    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 2 My Wife’s Mob Kin Folk. Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1. Ditzy Donna and Ralphie's first Christmas. Based on a post by Kirk 48 2002, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. There was a crash in the living room and Paulie Toucan's head popped in the semi open door. "Hey you love birds, where you want the tree?" Three more heads looked around the door. Donna and I scrambled for our clothes. "Don't get dressed on my account," said the pickpocket. "Don't you believe in knocking? What broke out there?" I asked, shielding Donna from their gaze as she got decent. "Did something break?" asked the stupid looking one. "I heard something smash," I replied, pushing my way out to the living room. There was the tree, or part of the tree sitting in the room on top of my glass top coffee table that now was in a thousand pieces. The top part of the tree was still out the door in the hallway and out the common entry door. "I thought you said you were going to cut it," I said furiously. "We are. We needed to measure first. Okay boys, start measuring," Toucan said. "Why didn't you leave it outside until it was cut?" asked Donna, now fully dressed. "We're not gonna cut it outside and wake everybody up. That wouldn't be nice," said the one that looked smarter than he probably was. "Look what you did to my table!" I shouted. "Shush. you'll wake the neighbors," said Stupid. "We need to cut it right here," said the pickpocket, putting the measuring tape away. Toucan dug a circular saw out from under three and plugged it in. I didn't think it would be any louder than a vacuum cleaner, but I didn't count on it being one from hell. "What's this thing made of, it won't cut," shouted Paulie. He tried again and smoke started wafting up from the tree trunk, but as far as cutting it, not a scratch. "That's a new blade, I just put it on before we came over," screamed the smart looking one over the din. I noticed that we were getting an audience at the doorway. I looked outside and could see more and more lights going on the other buildings as the saw wailed on. Sure enough, one of our township's finest was suddenly standing in my place with his arms crossed. That's usually not a good sign. Paulie noticed the man in dark blue and said, "Hi Tony. You want to take a look at this thing. I can't get it to cut." "Shit, somebody called the cops," I complained. "Nobody called this in, I heard it, driving by." He turned his attention to Paulie. "Why are you doing this at three o'clock in the morning?" "This was supposed to be a one and done deal, as a favor to the little lady," he replied, pointing to Donna. "But it won't cut." He kicked the tree. "Let me see the thing," said Tony. "Pull the plug and get me a screwdriver. Who put the blade on this thing?" "I did," said the smart-looking one, all proud of himself. "You're an idiot," stated the cop, as if it were as plain as the nose on Toucan's face. See, I called that one. "You put it on backwards." Tony made the switch and said, "Plug it in and try that." Paulie tried again, and the saw cut through the tree like a hot knife through butter. "Hey, thanks Tony," said Toucan. "You done making noise now?" Tony asked. "Yep, all done," I said, wishing everyone would go away. Tony left, and eventually so did the crowd. Between the six of us, we managed to get the tree up, transfer the decorations, the lights, and clean up the shattered coffee table. Paulie asked the boys to wait for him outside and turned his attention back to us. "Sorry about the screw up, tonight. As far as the table goes, I'll find you another," he said to me. "Now young lady, is there anything else I can do for you, this morning?" "I was wondering. Do you have any idea where my dad is? I haven't heard from him since my mom and him split up. She says she doesn't have a clue where he is," she said, sounding depressed. "She doesn't? Huh," he replied, rubbing his chin. "I'll put out some feelers, and see what I can find out." "Thanks for even trying," said Donna, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "No problem. My pleasure," he said. Then he turned to me. "Try not to be such a douche bag," he said and left. I was tired; but before I headed to the bedroom, I looked at the tree. "It really turned out nice." "I knew it would," Donna said, stifling a yawn. "I'm going to bed." Attic Treasures and Tales. "Junior!" Pop shouted, breaking Ralphie's concentration. "Did you find the box of ornaments?" "Yeah Pop, here." he said handing the box down the ladder. "Your Mother will be relieved that you found it. What are you doing up here?" Ralph Senior asked. "You told me to go through all the boxes before we donate them. I found some of my old grade school stuff, and was looking it over, that's all." "Are these the boxes that are going to the Goodwill?" he asked, looking up through the hatchway. "Yeah, here you go," Junior said, passing them along to his dad. Settling back under the light, he continued to ...
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  • Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1

    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1
    Jan 9 2026
    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1. Ditzy Donna and Ralphie's first Christmas. Based on a post by Kirk 48 2002, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. "I really did used to like the holidays," grumbled Ralphie Persons Junior; as he rubbed the same spot on his head that he'd whacked several times in a row on the same slanted ceiling beam. It was the first weekend in December, and he was crawling around the attic, looking for boxes of holiday decorations, that his mother wanted hauled downstairs and put up, the day after Thanksgiving. Having just started his first term at community college, Ralphie Jr. managed to dodge that bullet by complaining that he had a couple of papers due in English Composition and Early American History. The papers being due the Monday after Thanksgiving was true, but he'd left out the part that they were already finished. With a mighty grunt, he shoved a box of Easter lawn decorations aside and hit his head again. That time he saw stars. "If she wants them down so bad, why doesn't she do it?" he grumbled louder to himself. "Because she's more than twice your age, she doesn't like to hit her head, and she's got you to do it," said Ralph Sr., looking like a disembodied head sticking up, out of the floor of the attic. "Now, if you're done complaining, I'm sure you've got some boxes to come down; so pass them to me and I'll take them down the ladder for you." That suited Ralphie just fine, because trying to balance the boxes as he slid out the access hole, and then find his footing on the ladder; was no easy chore. He pushed what he already had found, toward the opening and looked for more. After hitting his head once more, he was convinced he'd found them all. "I think that's it, Pop." "You're missing the box with the tree ornaments," came his mom's voice through the access way. Ralphie took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Alright mom, I'll keep looking," Jr. said, sounding a bit miffed. Actually sounding a lot miffed. "We're gonna go and start setting up the outside lights and blow up characters," said his Pop through the hatchway. "That'll keep us out of your way a while and let you blow off some steam. I don't want you saying something to your mother the wrong way and have you regret it later." "Okay," sighed Ralphie, nodding his head as his Pop disappeared down the hatch. He took a long look around the attic and didn't see a box marked ornaments, so he decided to straighten and organize the entire loft by opening each box and marking them. He found that some of the boxes had his old clothes that he wore in grade school."Why doesn't she get rid of this stuff?" he thought to himself. Then he chuckled."If she's waiting for grandkids she's got a long wait." He didn't really have a girlfriend but his parents thought he did. For some reason they both kept pushing the idea of him and the girl he took to the prom, Louise Johnson, as being a couple."A couple of dorks," he thought. Actually, he did take Louise AKA 'Looney Louise,' out on a few dates during the summer. She was kind of funny and interesting, but her shenanigans and her perpendicular hair, far outweighed the positives, except for her tits. "Whew," Jr. said, shaking his head at the thought of them. He remembered when she showed them to him, and he started to daydream. Double Feature. They were in the back of the movie theater and she was jamming popcorn in her mouth. He saw that she had as much 'fruit of the Redenbacher' on her shirt as she still had in her trough of popcorn. "I think you better do something," he said, pointing in the general direction of her breasts. She put the bucket under her boobs and pushed the lucky kernels back in causing her breasts to bounce several times. "There, better?" Other than a few genuine imitation butter stains she was all clean. She settled back in her seat and shifted around a bit almost slumping, forcing her breasts up and out. Between the seat in front of her and her tits in her face, Ralphie didn't think she could see the screen. He didn't realize he was staring at her, until her eyes slowly turned toward him. "Imagination running wild?" she whispered, placing her trough of corn on the floor. "I bet you've got a hundred different visions of what they look like, going on in your head. What do you think they look like?" Ralphie sat there with his mouth agape. "Oh come on. Maybe they're perky, droopy, hard, or soft. Maybe they have veins all over them. Maybe my nipples are large like acorns, small like cherry pits, or even big and puffy," she whispered, encouraging him in her game. Ralphie still sat there with his mouth agaip. She sighed. "No idea, huh? Okay," she said, unbuttoning her blouse down to her navel and unclasping the front hook on her bra. She snapped them open and said, "Behold!" Attic of Family Artifacts. He was startled out of his obcessions by his father's strong voice."Junior, did you find them yet?" his Pops voice said from the hole. "No, I decided to ...
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  • Andrew’s Delightful Attributes

    Andrew’s Delightful Attributes
    Jan 8 2026
    Andrew’s Delightful Attributes. The women in Andrew’s life, are getting frisky. Based on a post by Meow 5 meow. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Mom catches Andrew Solo. Eliza woke up to her Saturday morning and rolled over to look at her clock, it said 9am, which was an hour before she usually rose. She knew Andrew would already be up because he was an early riser; like his father had been. So she pulled a robe around herself and headed downstairs quietly. When she entered the kitchen there was no one there, she checked around the house but didn't see him. Still sleepy she let the mystery and worry go and made herself some coffee and a bagel. She finished her breakfast quickly because felt a little uncomfortable with the dead silence in the house. She wondered where her son went. He tended to be pretty active in the mornings but didn't usually leave the house till he saw her. Some mornings Andrew would work out in the garage, but that was not where he was this early morning. She didn't see a note around anywhere, so she went back upstairs, to check her phone. Maybe he texted her before he left the house? Eliza didn't feel any urgency yet, just mild curiosity as she went back up the stairs. On this pass through, she purposely looked at Andrew's bedroom door for signs of life. It was half open, quiet and dark inside. Suddenly Eliza believed her son must still be in bed, and she stepped over and gently pushed his door further, opening the room up to her view. Suddenly she could see Andrew sitting at his desk, against the far wall, with headphones on. "Oh." Eliza uttered quietly, feeling silly for her worry. Of course he was in his room. Andrew hadn't noticed her behind him. He was just sitting there, staring at the screen and moving his shoulder. Eliza finally looked at the screen to find an up close view of a naked woman's body, and saw her shaved cunt being fucked by a pale pink cock. She gasped and her eyes locked onto the porn her son was watching. For a least a minute she just stood there watching her son beat off. Minutes went by and she didn't move. “Is my cock bigger than Dad’s?” Andrew asked the Milf in the video. The video zoomed out and she could see the actors going at it. Her mouth dropped open. The actress was tall and blonde, like she was. And curvy with the same hairstyle as Eliza. The actor fucking her was young and superficially like Andrew too. It was obvious Andrew had picked this video as a fantasy for him and her together. Eliza closed her mouth, blinking in the quiet that was only broken by the soft fleshy fapping sounds of her son's hand on his cock and his ragged breathing. At the same moment her own nipples tightened and her clit pulsed and began to inflame her sex. She was responding to the idea that her son was fantasizing about having sex with her. Her hand slid up the door jam and she tried to control her breathing and slow down her strong physical reaction. Her son was just stepping up his, though; arm jerking faster and tiny whimpers spilled out of his lips. She felt scared, not willing to take one step farther in his room. Shame rearing up to scream at her, for watching and responding; and feeling any sort of urge when it came to Andrew. She gripped the door knob and backed up a step, fully intending to flee this very moment. As her shoulders turned away from his room, she heard her son utter words that slammed into her like a freight train. "Yeah mom... you love my cock too.. Don't you?" Eliza swiftly retreated from that spot and went into her private bathroom and locked the door. Her heart was racing and panic leaking into her brain Eliza slumped down on her shaggy toilet seat cover and spread her legs. With fingers over her panties she explored her sex and shivered at her sensitivity, with a broken little sob she snaked her fingers under the waistband of her panties and glided over her drenched clit. It frightened her how quickly and feverishly she had responded to what she had seen. It was so utterly wrong. As she teased her clit, her brain tried to rationalize it. Masturbation is a natural thing, she told herself. And it's Andrew's private business. Plus, mother-son fantasies are just a phase that young men grow out of quickly. Her own sensual reaction is just a sensitivity caused by not having had sex in a while, and her libido is just easily triggered. All normal and no way shameful; unless acted upon. It would never be acted upon. Eliza took a hot shower, and imagined her son fucking her in missionary position, looking him right in the face, as his cock pumped firmly in and out of her. Of kissing him; he was so handsome! It set her right over the edge and she moaned loudly, helpless to the overwhelming sensation of a strong orgasm. Her bare feet pressed against the tile floor of the double shower, and her hips rocked as she prolonged her pleasure. After a few minutes to breath dried off again and intended to get dressed. When she walked ...
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  • My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 2

    My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 2
    Jan 6 2026
    My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 2 I was asked to Fill In For Her Husband? Based on a post by MaryAnderson. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. A few days later I was at the Hollins' house when Jennie's phone pinged. She opened the message, read it, read it again, pumped her fist and said, "Yes! Whitman scheduled me for an interview, but crap, it's next Friday. Mom, that's your birthday." Whitman was Jennie's dream college, the one she had no chance of getting into. Still, the assistant director of admissions had been a fraternity brother of Mr. Hollins, not one Mr. Hollins had been close to, but perhaps, maybe. Mr. Hollins was to go with Jennie to the interview, see if he could influence the decision. Mrs. Hollins said, "Honey, when you're in you late thirties your birthday is not that big a deal. And, in any case, we weren't planning to do anything as a family until Saturday." Jennie said, "But still Mom, it's your birthday. Dad and I can't leave." Mrs. Hollins said, "Of course you can, I'll find something to do." Jennie looked at me with expectant eyes and I said, "Look, Mrs Hollins; with your daughter out of town I'll be foot loose and fancy free. Let me take you out. We'll do something different, something you wouldn't normally do." Jennie said, "That's a great idea Mom, and I know just the place. There's a club not too far from campus. It has a mixed crowd, not just students." Mrs. Hollins said, "I don't know, you sure you want to go out with an old lady Michael?" "What old lady, you bringing a friend? With Jennie out of town you'll be the finest woman around." Mrs. Hollins said, "What, I'm not as hot as my daughter?" Jennie said, "Mom, you and I will pick out something for you to wear, show my boyfriend exactly how hot you can be." We ran it, well at least the general concept, by Mr Hollins; he said it was an excellent idea. Date With Her Mom. "Happy birthday Mrs. Hollins." I handed her a half-dozen roses. While a cliche, it was always appreciated. Eyes spread wide, she kissed my cheek and said, "They're beautiful. Please come in." And while her eyes had spread wide, they were no match for mine. Mrs. Hollins' red dress snugly fit her slender form; her modest tits were held perfect in the built-in cups. The back was open; there were no straps, just a tie around the neck. And, as I followed her into the house, I focused on her ass; it formed an impeccable bump in the back of the dress. And the shoes: red stiletto heels that buckled around the ankles. The dress screamed fuck me, the shoes hollered the same thing, and later her moves on the dance floor would be exclamation points. If it was going to happen, it would happen tonight. I was going to make my, and Jennie's fantasy come true: I'd fuck her mother. In the living room she handed me a glass of wine, put the flowers in a vase, studied them, moved one flower half-an-inch, another a quarter-of-an-inch, leaned forward, took a long whiff, chin in hand studied them, moved two more flowers, and said, "They're lovely, and you're sweet and thoughtful." She kissed my cheek. Her perfume was light and airy. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and said, "I can see why my daughter's so enamored with you." "A beautiful woman deserves beautiful flowers, and you look spectacular. Jennie asked for pictures." I took several of her, then several of us together, my arm around her shoulder, her arm around my waist. Jennie texted, said we were a good looking couple, instructed me to show her Mom the time of her life. I held the door of my newly cleaned jalopy for her, then her chair at the hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant where we'd never run into any of her crowd. She asked my advice, ordered it, complimented my choice. We shared dessert, then went to the club. We danced fast, danced slow, and later, as I drove her home, she leaned her body into mine. I handed her a glass of wine as she moved a couple of the flowers, moved them back, moved one other, and said, "That's better, it's been bothering me all night. What do you think?" I said, "I think you've got it," held my glass up. "To you, on your birthday." Touching her glass to mine she said, "To a wonderful evening, I can't remember a better time. Why don't you put on some music, come sit with me. I need to get off my feet, it's been years since I danced in stilettos." "Well, every guy there would vote in favor of you doing it again." "Michael, are you flirting with me?" "Just getting started." Mrs. Hollins sat, then took off her ruby heart-shaped earrings/ She lay them on the table next to the couch. I put on some soft jazz, said, "Foot rub?" she said, "I'd like that," and I sat on the far end of the couch as she pirouetted until her back rested on the arm and her feet were in my lap. I unbuckled her shoes, laid them on the floor, worked her feet; we chatted, she drank her wine. When her phone pinged she signaled me to keep working, picked it off the coffee table, held it up. It was ...
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  • My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 1

    My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 1
    Jan 5 2026
    My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 1 Hot Mom, hot daughter, is anyone complaining? Based on a post by MaryAnderson. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It's not often you meet a mother who's better looking than her good-looking college-age daughter. I remember the first time I saw them. I'd moved to San Diego immediately after graduating from high school. While I wouldn't begin my freshman year until September, I'd found a decent job and I needed the money. As a side benefit my employer provided membership at a fancy local gym, one I couldn't have afforded. I was doing chest presses when a class got out in an upstairs studio. About two dozen women and a smattering of guys came down the stairs followed by several women talking animatedly to a striking rail-thin brunette. Standing next to her was a younger woman with the same color hair and same impressive build. Both wore skin-hugging leotards identical in style, although differing in color. As the knot of women moved across the room I overheard enough of the conversation to understand the older woman had been leading a pilates class. After their entourage dispersed the two women lingered at the front counter talking to the attendant when the younger one noticed me checking them out. Busted, I gave her my best you-caught-me grin. She smiled, said something to the older woman, who turned, held my gaze for a beat, before returning her focus to her companions. A few minutes later, they left. After finishing with the weights I went to the front desk. The older woman was Theresa Hollins; she taught several classes at the gym. The younger one was her daughter Jennie, a high school senior. The attendant made it clear I wasn't the first guy who'd asked about them. I checked the schedule; Theresa would lead a steps class in a couple of days. Enrolling in class. I was hanging downstairs when they came through the front door. They certainly didn't mind being identified as mother and daughter, they looked alike, styled their hair the same way, although Jennie's was longer, and their leotards were differently colored variations of each other. I introduced myself, Mrs. Hollins introduced herself and her daughter, said she hoped I'd enjoy the class. I soon found out that not only did they look alike, they shared the optimistic up-beat positive personality associated with aerobics instructors and were, as they appeared to be, in superb condition, pushing everyone, encouraging everyone, leaving all but a few in the dust. After class, along with several others, I walked downstairs with Theresa and Jennie, offered to treat them to bottles of water after the crowd peeled away. Theresa declined, said she had an errand to run, told her daughter she could swing by on the way home and pick her up. Jennie said sure, she could use a drink. Two days later we shared a bed. Not too long after that, for the first time in my life, I told a woman I loved her. I'd never been one for classes at health clubs, preferring to work-out with a buddies or on my own, but couldn't see how to stop going without offending Mrs. Hollins and if it gave me an excuse to watch my girlfriend and her hot mother covered in thin veneers of sweat stretching and straining in skin-tight leotards, who'd say no to that? Dating Life. We'd been seeing each other for about six weeks when, holding Jennie in the spoon position - we'd just rocked each other's worlds on my one-room apartment's undersized bed - she said, "You think my mother's hot, don't you?" There was no point in denying it. Jennie and her Mom surely knew and neither seemed offended; Mrs. Hollins had been enthusiastic about my dating her daughter from day one. "Yeah, it's clear you come by some of your good looks naturally." "Some?" "As hard as you and your Mom work-out, there's a lot of sweat and dedication there." Bringing my hand to her mouth she kissed it and said, "Nice rescue," then, smiling indecipherably, looked over her shoulder. I said, "What?" "The guys I've known, they all think Mom's hot. Most look at her furtively, sneakily, thinking they're slick, that we don't notice, but we do. Then there's the guys who stare and drool, not cool. There are a few, I don't know if they have more or less control, who look away even when they should be looking at her, like they don't know how to handle it. You're different. You don't take creepy little looks, but when you have a reason to look you do and don't seem to feel weird about it. Plus, you're the first one to admit it." I didn't say that, in addition to having a thing for hot younger women like her, I had a thing for hot older women, that I'd bedded a few back home. Instead, since it was clear that not only didn't it bother her, but that she dug it, I said, "Yeah, I like looking at your Mom. Why do you bring it up, interested in a threesome?" Laughing she said, "What makes you think I do women, and why are guys fascinated by threesomes, especially mothers and daughters?" Making ...
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  • Female Husbandry

    Female Husbandry
    Jan 4 2026
    Female Husbandry Sometimes exciting things happen at work, even farm work. Based on a post by Farmerjill. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. You think Farming is Boring? Maybe Not! My name is Connor Dixon and I am a beef farmer. I don't think farming is boring, I really like it but I know most people do. When I go to a function from my wife's work it is always the same. "What do you do?" They ask me. "I am a farmer." I tell them. Then it goes one of three ways, there is the joke route which usually ends in something like "where's the beef?" kind of thing. Then there is the inane question route, "do brown cows make brown milk?" Finally there is the change the topic, hope this guy goes away route. Yes, some people are really interested or are related to a farmer but that happens less and less as fewer and fewer people are farmers. I don't understand what is so exciting about sitting in a cubicle everyday and staring at a computer screen. Most people have boring jobs, even firemen spend most of the time doing boring things. Thank God that they aren't having to save people and fight fires every minute like on tv, but come on, hanging around a firehall for 24 hrs is boring day in day out. Now having said that, I will admit that farming does have some boring moments. The summer is busy but it is pretty unexciting. I grow beef so that means, cut hay, rake hay, bale hay and put hay away-then repeat. Driving around those same fields can get a little monotonous. Yes, you have to pay attention to what is going on because things can go wrong in an instant but usually it is pretty dull. That is why you have to enjoy the little things that happen during the day that spice things up. Sometimes you get to see a fawn and it's mother come out into the field. Other times you are up early and the sun rise is just extra special. Pulling a calf out of a cow in distress is always exciting, and usually really messy. Of course there are the times when you meet up with a fellow farmer and you stop your tractor next to his and share important information. This can be very exciting depending on who did what to whom and when and where. Of course we talk farm stuff too but most people tell me long term weather forecasts and crop futures are boring. Last of all are the moments we farmers cherish, the moments that really put a spring in our step and a smile on our faces. I will give you an example. I rent or own 11 pieces of land and they are not continuous so I have to drive between them. One of the pieces I rent is owned by a nice widow who lives at the corner of 2 gravel roads. She has a house on the north side and she quite often is not home visiting her kids and grand kids in town. On the east gravel road a family of 4 lives. Mom and dad are in their late 20s or early 30s and their children are about 5 and 6. I say hi to them when I see them and if I do see them, I usually tell them what I'm up to and when. You don't want to be cutting hay during a birthday party or something like that. The guy told me his name once but I'll admit I don't remember it. The woman who has never told me her name is what makes my days sometimes very exciting. You see she likes to wear tight short. It seems to me after 5 years of driving around her house working on hay that she is still wearing the shorts she had before she had kids. She has kept a few baby pounds on her and that makes her shorts tight, too small, and very exciting. From the rear you can see just a little bit of her bum coming out of her shorts. That really turns me on. The shorts are also always so tight that you can't see any panty lines. She unfortunately doesn't own any "daisy dukes' but the ones she does own are different colors but all of them are of a material that makes them like a second skin. Now when you see her from the front it gets even better. I love camel toes. Sometimes my wife wears something that gives her a camel toe and it always gets a rise out of me. The problem is my wife always wears panties and she always "fixes it" when she sees me drooling. It was not always like this however when we were young, she would wear tight shorts and it lead to great sex. So now I have to watch her at the right moment and there will a little bit of a camel toe but nothing like what this woman from the east gravel road house has! Her shorts ride right up her slit and her lips are so plump! It is the most enticing camel toe I have ever scene. Every time I see it my cock starts to get hard and I just want to stop the tractor and bury my face in it. Then if there is still time, I look at her top. Her t-shirts are also very tight and she doesn't seem to ever wear bras. She has these baseball size tits that are still quite firm after the kids. When she walks, they don't bounce as much a jiggle. It is a sight to behold. Her t-shirts also tend to be in light colors so when the sun hits them right or water gets on them, they are see through. She has nice little button nipples and ...
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  • Amazon ‘Fiction’: Part 3

    Amazon ‘Fiction’: Part 3
    Jan 3 2026
    Amazon ‘Fiction’: Part 3 The lost valley - going home. Based on a post by Farmer Jill, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. We both were exhausted from the fighting. Deianira had a hand on her throat, rubbing it unconsciously. I prayed as I moved, that my balls would stop hurting. The crowd was going wild, this was turning into a great fight. Then there was a loud bang and crash outside the hall. The Amazon's closest to the windows and doors began to fall to the ground. It seemed like an invisible wave was knocking everyone out. The wave washed over me and I was out like a light. I awoke in another medical room. It looked like the ones in the other villages. I was in a hospital bed with no restraints. I sat up and took a look around. There was no one else in the room and I couldn't hear anyone else in the rest of the building. I did know however that the Amazons had surveillance measures and there was no doubt in my mind that I was being watched and listened too. I figured that within five minutes of me being noticeably awake I would have company. Since I had no watch and there was no clock I could not be sure but within about five minutes a door opened in the wall and in walked a man in a purple tunic and pants. He had sandals on his feet, and was carrying a tray with a meal on it. "Good morning Breeder, I am glad to see you are awake. I am Gerald servant of the Queen. Here is your breakfast, while you eat I will advise you of your duties here." The breakfast was good, judging from the taste and texture my water was still the Drink. No pills or injections were offered, and I was addressed as Breeder, so it was not surprising I was getting the Drink. "You will be of service to the Queen and her Amazons as a breeder. A list has been prepared, and they will attend your quarters daily. I will show you to your quarters after you finish breakfast. You will notice you have a new amulet. This in addition to translation; has some additional powers for you. If you are allowed access, it will enable you to open doors. You just have to approach a door and if you have access it will open. Most importantly, this will allow you to leave your accommodations. Outside of the time you are expected to perform service; you are allowed to roam the village. If you try to escape or enter somewhere you do not have access; your amulet will report you and you will be punished. If you try to remove your amulet you will be punished. The punishment will be quick and painful. Do you have any questions yet?" I thought about it, pretty simple really. I was still just a sperm bank, but it seemed I might get treated better. He gave me a moment and with no response continued. "Perhaps you will have questions later? I will try to answer them. You are obviously to defer to the wishes of any Amazon you meet. The men here are treated differently than in the other tribes. Those in purple such as I are the personal servants of the Queen. Our directions are to be followed immediately. Those in red are trusted servants who will expect your assistance with whatever they request of you. Those in brown are not trusted servants, their amulets have powers similar to yours. You won't come in contact much with them; as they do most of the farm work and dirty jobs. The last group is those in blue. These are the specialists. They have been recruited from the outside to further the Amazon technology. Many of them live in what you would term a common law marriage with an Amazon. You will have little interaction with them; but if you do obey them as you would obey the purple. They are not happy when "their" Amazon partner uses the Breeder, not that they can do anything about it, so be warned. Be respectful of them. These Amazons are different from the ones you have been with before. If you follow the rules, you will be fine. If you don't, you have been warned. Any questions now?" I went over the risk and reward in my head, I decided I had nothing to lose. "Yes I would like to know if there is any chance that I can leave here at some point and return to my family?" Gerald looked thoughtful for a moment. "I do not know the future; I also do not know the will of the Queen. Perhaps you will have a chance to meet her and perhaps you will be able to ask her that question. I would not dwell on it however; life is good here for us men. I suggest you forget about the past, and learn to enjoy it here." By now I was finished eating so we left the medical building and walked toward another non-descript building that would be my home. As we walked Gerald asked me a question, "Are you not interested to know how you arrived here; and what happened in the village of the Black breast plated ones?" Now that he mentioned it I was. "Yes I am interested, I was in a pretty sticky situation when whatever happened; but I'm sure it wasn't done to rescue me." Gerald let out a small laugh, "No, your rescue was not the aim of what happened at all, sorry to ...
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