Episodios

  • Future Farmer's Wife

    Future Farmer's Wife
    Nov 24 2025
    Future Farmer's Wife. Summer loving, working on the farm. Based on a post by Farmer jill. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When I was a young girl, every summer was an adventure. The farms around Stearns County, where I lived; would need extra help to cut, bail; and store up the hay for the long snowy winter. Everyone did small square bales back then, and that meant manual labor. The thing was that although the job paid great, it was not a regular job. The hours were always subject to change, with the weather, break downs, or hay production. You had little notice when you were needed, and then it was only for a few days. Farm kids also had to work on our own family farms; so you had to work it around that. Yet since every farmer needed the extra help it was like all the kids were a labor pool to be exploited. I liked working the hay harvests, because it allowed me to have spending money. Sure I was "paid" working for my dad but farming is a long term paying type of job. I didn't get actually paid for my labor but in the winter I would get money to go to the movies and the like. It was the summer of 81. I just turned 18 and the hay season started. The first job I heard about was at the Wilson Dairy Farm. I had worked for the Wilson's before. I showed up at 7am, on the appointed day, and there were four other people. The Wilson's only really need four laborers but you never knew what kind of quality you would get so the first day most farmers would have extras. Then at lunch they would get rid of the lazy, slow or stupid. In addition to myself, there were the Hanson brothers, Bill and Ted. I had worked with them before. They worked hard and usually worked the conveyor. In case you don't know; the conveyor is what gets the bales from the wagon up into the hay loft. It was a tricky job. You couldn't overload it, because it would jam. You also couldn't go to fast because the people unloading would get overwhelmed. There was also a guy I didn't know. He must have been new in our area. I was pretty sure he wouldn't make the cut. His hands had no calluses on them, dead give away. The last person in the group was none other than Cooper Banks, my high school crush. We were both the youngest in our families, and the only kids still living at home. We were both in the high school FFA club, Future Farmers of America, But he quit the club when he became a starter on the wrestling team. He was a year older than me and had just graduated. I'm sure that he didn't even know I existed before today. He was pretty popular at school and never lacked for female attention. Cooper was born on a farm on a different bus route from me, so I never had a chance to be noticed by him. Yet here he was, in the flesh. The Hay Harvest Operation. The way haying worked most times is; you went out with a wagon and while the farmer drove, you loaded the wagon. One person on the wagon, and a couple passing bales up. Other times the bales were formed, tied, and delivered to the wagon and then you stacked them on the wagon. In this case it was both types. Mr. Wilson was baling onto one wagon while the new guy stacked. Meanwhile us four took turns driving and loading/stacking another wagon. Once we had some wagons loaded, people would then work on loading the hay into the barn, hayloft, through an upper door under the gable; while others collected more hay. The farmers kept big coolers of cold water on hand, to hydrate the workers, and we often poured water over our sweaty bodies, to get relief from the humid air. Halfway through the day, our clothes were soaked. At lunch time, as I suspected, the new guy was let go. Blisters developed on his hands, because he didn't bring work gloves; so he was done. This left Bill loading the conveyor, and Cooper and I stacking the hay now in the barn's upper loft. Ted continued stacking bales on the wagon that Mr. Wilson was towing behind his bailor. It's hard work, but you are so busy, that it goes fast. Soon enough, the day was over and Mr. Wilson paid us. Then he asked us to be back tomorrow. That's another good thing, cash at the end of the day. We all said we would be back tomorrow, and went to leave. I ended up walking beside Cooper, and I was desperate to think of something to say to him. He was wearing a Van Halen concert t-shirt, so I asked him about it, "Cooper, that's a nice shirt. Did you like the concert?" "Oh yeah, those guys were great, I'd go see them again. You have a pretty nice shirt on, too." Now I was wearing the usual kind of t-shirt for this work. Mine was Long sleeves to protect my arms and it was well-worn. It was sorta too small for me, because it was pretty tight across the chest. I was pretty proud of my boobs that had kept developing over the past year. My tits were high on my chest, and especially firm, and jiggled a lot. I'm sure Cooper liked what was inside my shirt. Last winter, my past boyfriend said my tits were the perfect size, just more than a hand full. ...
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  • Abandon Ship: Part 2

    Abandon Ship: Part 2
    Nov 23 2025
    Abandon Ship!: Part 2 Jemima provides Davy with kinky new insights into female sexuality. By Big galute. Listen to the Podcast Steamy Stories. "Davy if I could, I would marry you at this very moment." "Don't mock me." "I'm not, I'm serious." I didn't answer, finally realizing that I was stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean with an insane woman. "I don't know about God but I do know about the church and the clergy that tell us about sins of the flesh, many of the clergy are the biggest sinners amongst us." I stayed silent but knew that I'd heard many men on the river saying the same thing. "Why can our bodies do such things? Why does it feel so wonderful when we do? Surely humans are designed to enjoy sex in whichever way they want?" I couldn't think of any answers to Jemi's words but still thought she was insane. "I know that I have a high spirit and enjoy doing the things society tells me I mustn't, but that's not because I am bad but rather because I am free and should be allowed to make up my own mind. All the men I have ever been introduced to, have been vain, shallow, or stupid; sometimes all three." I listened to her profound words, but she wasn’t yet done; "In a different situation we may never have met, or if we did we would not have spoken. But you are different from them, we are stuck on this little boat but you are sweetest, most sincere man I have ever met. I also sense a wild free-spirit inside you, longing to get out." Any doubts I had about Jemi's sincerity disappeared as she kissed me, a soft, gentle, loving kiss. We molded together as Jemi nuzzled her head into my chest and placed her leg across me, causing me to harden and grow and causing Jemi to giggle. "I love you, and I love your tallywacker." She said before falling asleep. I awoke to the early morning sun and to Jemi sitting upright and smiling down at me, "Is it always that engorged in the mornings?" She asked, her eyes roving down my body and her smile widening, the mischievous glint back in her eye. "Sometimes." "I've been staring at it for ages, it twitches and moves and you sometimes touch it in your sleep." She placed her hand to my forehead and laughed, "Good, no fever. Your face is so red I wondered." I went to sit up but Jemi gently pushed me back down, "Lay still, I want to study it awhile." I could have refused and insisted that we got busy with the sail but I was getting use to Jemi and knew there was no point. "My friend Imogen says her husband's is short and fat, with a rather musty, unpleasant smell." "Yours appears to be long and fat and I could detect no unpleasant smells." Seeing my puzzled look, Jemi said, "I smelt it whilst you were asleep. Actually it was quite fascinating, I blew on it and it twitched. The bulbous gland at the top appears to be the most sensitive, the thick shaft less so." Laying there listening to my beautiful angel ruminate about my appendage was exhilarating and highly arousing and I knew that I wished it always to be so, I also knew that we needed to get sailing if we were to have any chance of survival. "I think we should hoist our sail." I suggested, changing the subject. "You're probably right." Jemi went quiet and I think I detected a new glow to her cheeks. "Imogen says that when her husband emits semen in the morning he is far more productive and it assuages any foul humor he may have." "Would you like to emit some semen?" I nodded, unable to refuse. "Teach me how, so I would know how best to do it." Jemi said. I wanted to ask what else Imogen had said but dared not, instead telling Jemi; “I just wrap my fingers around it and pull back & forth, Like you did last night." She thought about this for a while before asking, "Do you think of things when you do it?" "Sometimes, last night was the first time anyone else has ever done it for me and I didn't need to think of anything." "I like the name tallywacker but for the purposes of my studies I will think of it as a penis, when you make love to me it can be your tallywacker." Before I could respond to this Jemi took my penis in her hand, "It is heavier than I imagined, maybe more than a pound, there is already fluid leaking out the top." Jemi ran a finger of the other hand across the fluid, the sensation causing my penis to twitch violently and me to take a sharp breath in. "Was that painful?" Jemi asked. "No, just sensitive. Almost ticklish, in a way” Jemi nodded as if storing this information away, she then brought her fingers to her face "A slight smell of ammonia and mildly salty flavor." I was enjoying Jemi's hand on my penis but I wasn't sure if I enjoyed being part of an experiment. She suddenly started shaking it violently, "The muscle tries to resist and the penis becomes harder, tell me, does that feel nice?" "Slightly uncomfortable but not unpleasant." Jemi nodded and then started slapping my penis hard against her open palm, until it became too rigid to ...
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  • Abandon Ship: Part 1

    Abandon Ship: Part 1
    Nov 22 2025
    Abandon Ship!: Part 1 Two virgin shipwreck survivors share a lifeboat and a few more discoveries in the Victorian-era By Big galute. Listen to the Podcast Steamy Stories. "Man the lifeboats! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!" We had been at sea for ten days when the storm hit, our splendid vessel battered and broken into no more than firewood, all the passengers and crew seemingly lost. I came to, my legs dangling in the water and my arms and upper body atop some flotsam timbers. The sea around me was calm, with small pieces of wreckage everywhere. I tried to look around, the throbbing pain in my head and the low morning sun making it hard to focus; no one to be seen, just me. I pulled myself up onto the driftwood, too tired to think, my mind too blurred to do anything other than curl up and sleep. Davy, Davy Arthur that's me, eighteen years old and on my first ship. I'd grown up by the Thames, my father worked on the tugs but died when I was young. It was in my blood and I'd always dreamt of being at sea, then my mother died and I got a job as a stoker on the SS Cadwallader, sailing to the new world. In other words, I assisted in tending the boiler furnace for this steam ship named for a Welsh king from centuries ago. The several months I spent shoveling coal into the furnace, reduced my once-stocky six foot frame by more than 2 inches around my waistline. "Hello, Hello. Are you okay there, are you alive?" I tried to follow the voice, a ladies voice, young and a bit wispy & screechy as she shouted out to me, "Hello, I'm over here, can you see me?" I slowly turned my head and body to the left, maybe 3 rods away from me was a small wooden life boat, a damsel frantically waving her arms at me. I managed to raise one arm to let her know I was alive and she started to paddle with one oar, the boat turning sideways rather than towards me, then I think I passed out again. "Hello, are you alright, can you move?" The voice was much closer now, kind and posh, like the ladies I had sometimes overheard in coming out of tearooms in London. The boat was now less than a fathom from me but I felt hardly able to move, all my strength needed to perch up on one elbow. "I'll hold out the oar, see if you can grab it." The wispy voice directed. I used my free arm to grab it, then held on for dear life and found myself getting right up to the starboard, till a soft hand grasped my wrist. "You'll have to help me, I can't pull you in by myself. Can you get onto your knees?" I did as she said, and rolled up over the rail, then plonked myself onto the small lifeboat, almost tipping us as I did so. "Oh you poor thing, you're all cuts and bruises." As she said this she supported my head and offered water to my lips, "Drink slowly in case you get sick." Consciousness was a fleeting state, and I could not decipher reality from delirious dreams. I looked up at her pale lips and beautiful green eyes and wondered if she were an angel and I was dead; my thoughts slipping as my eyes closed; the ripping of material and my angel saying "We must cover you from the sun." being the last sounds I heard. I felt a wet cloth on my forehead and heard soothing words being spoken, the smiling face of my ‘angel’ looking down at me as I opened my eyes. "Hello again." Came her pleasant greeting. I think I smiled back and then tried to sit up "Take it easy, let me help you." She offered. I felt the wonderful softness of her body against mine as she set me upright. The spinning in my head slowed as I tried to focus and clear the fog in my brain; shipwreck, lifeboat, angel. "Do you remember going overboard and the ship sinking?" My angel asked. I shook my head, in the affirmative. "I think you must have banged your head pretty badly’” she assessed. “You have a nasty bruise on the side of it." I put my hand up and felt the tender area above my ear. "I think you have what Professor Gower refers to as a concussion, are you familiar with Professor Gower's work." I again shook my head in the negative. "He's the eminent neurologist of our time. I think you should be okay in a day or two." I nodded, then asked; "What's your name, and are you an angel?" She looked taken-aback and then burst out laughing. "Oh my dear thing, no I'm not an angel and you are very much alive. My name’s Jemima Fairweather but you may call me Jemi, all my friends do. What's your name?" "Davy Arthur." "Nice to meet you Davy Arthur; & may I call you Davy?" I nodded to her. At that point I could care less what the skipper of the only lifeboat decided to call me. "Now, how do we get out of this pickle." She asked, expecting me to be a seafaring expert. I followed her gaze as she looked around, nothing but water and us in a small wooden boat, no more than fifteen feet long. I looked around our boat; there were three small wooden boxes, only one rowing oar and Jemi, her elaborate bustle dress torn with several parts missing, and what looked like some ...
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  • Virilità Ricorrere Community: Part 2

    Virilità Ricorrere Community: Part 2
    Nov 22 2025
    Virilità Ricorrere Community: Part 2. Dave soon learns his parents real family values. Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It was kind of a long, somewhat silent afternoon. Sure we chatted, like always, but there was a bit of nervousness in the air. Dad was due back any time now, and I think all three of us sat looking at the clock expectantly. "You’re sure about this?" I asked. "Very sure. It might be easier if we do it my way," she said once again. Though I was surprised that mom had gone along with it, allowing Cathy to tell dad the whole story herself. Maybe it would be easier. Certainly for me anyway. Maybe afterwards it might be awkward for a while, but eventually... Dad got home a short time later, though I had made myself scarce, long enough for Cathy to convince him to take her on a short boat ride. He was a little surprised to learn that it would just be the two of them going, but then figured that since I never had been all that comfortable in the water, it just wasn't my particular thing. And mom had begged out, stating that she'd stay home and keep company with me. So with that, the two of them set off to spend the rest of the late afternoon together. I could only sit and wonder what dad would be thinking about everything soon after that. After they had gone, mom had me come and join her outside. "So what else did you two have to talk about?" I asked. I figured that if it was none of my business, she'd tell me. She'd never been afraid of doing that before anyway. "You really want to know?" For a moment, I actually wondered. "Yes?" "Obviously, Cathy and I had a pretty long, deep conversation." "Deep? As in?" "What we like doing. What you two enjoy doing...things like that. You know, somewhat naughty girl talk." "Somewhat naughty?" I had to laugh. "Such as?" Though maybe I shouldn't have asked that question. "Such as..." mom actually blushed. "Cathy asked me if I had really come to enjoy being with other women. So I told her...I do. I've come to enjoy it very much. And I think since you obviously saw most, if not all of our photos, you could pretty much guess that for yourself. Especially with Shelly. In fact, just so you know, she and I very often get together to have fun with one another even in the middle of the day. The only reason she hasn't been around lately of course, is because of your visit with us." Now knowing what I knew, I responded in kind to her. "Well I hope you certainly won't deny yourself now just because we're here!" I stated. Mom smiled at that. "No worries. I got plenty of her pussy last night!" Hearing mom talk like that was a little weird to me, but at the same time, somewhat refreshing too. "Oh I'm sorry, perhaps I shouldn't have said something like that, I didn't mean to embarrass you!" Was I blushing? I didn't know, though I did feel like my face was a little hot perhaps. But in all my years...never not once had I ever heard my mother say "pussy", nor a couple of other words for that matter. And hearing her say it, the way she did...well, it was sort of just naughty nice, in a strange sort of way. "It didn't," I told her. "And since we're being honest here mom, I'm actually glad you enjoy it, and that you and dad are having such a good, uninhibited life with one another. Just as Cathy and I are having. I enjoy seeing Cathy with another woman, just as much as I now believe dad enjoys seeing you." "Does he ever!" Mom quipped, and for a moment I could have sworn she had dropped her hand down between her legs for a moment, though she must have caught herself, placing it soon on top of the table again. "Though admittedly, I enjoy doing it with Shelly perhaps more than anyone else." "Yeah, Cathy's sort of that way with our friend Janice. Once the two of them get going at it, you almost have to dump water on the two of them to break the two of them up." Mom really giggled at that, though I only then realized that maybe I was sharing a bit too much with her. This really was starting to get more than a little personal and intimate. Not to mention the fact, I was starting to get a little aroused once again myself just thinking about it. "Yeah, she told me that," mom grinned. "So she knew where I was coming from. And don't think ill of me for saying this honey, but I'd be the first one to admit, I am sure watching her with Janice would be as exciting as seeing her with Shelly. And I'd be willing to bet even your dad would love seeing that!" "Ok, now we were crossing one of those lines in the sand," I thought to myself, though the image mom had just painted wasn't necessarily one that I could disagree with. Only that it was mom who had said it. "I'm sure he would," I said instead, and then made some attempt at changing the subject, sort of. "How do you think he's going to take hearing about us knowing now?" I asked honestly curious. "Well, at first I am sure he will be a little surprised." "Oh? Just a little?" "At first...perhaps," ...
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  • Virilità Ricorrere Community: Part 1

    Virilità Ricorrere Community: Part 1
    Nov 21 2025
    Virilità Ricorrere Community: Part 1. Dave soon learns his parents new retirement resort in more than it seems. Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Well over a year ago now, my parents decided to move into one of those assisted living places, or retirement homes if you will. I was a little surprised by that when they did, but after seeing the brochures and such where they'd be living, I could certainly understand why. My folks, Mike and Betty Anderson, had done very well for themselves. Dad had owned his own business (which I was now running) and had tucked away a nice tidy amount of money to retire on. And they were still pretty young too. Dad was only 61, and mom was 58 when they decided they'd had enough of urban living and had found a place that they could retire to and live the "easy life", as dad had put it. Unfortunately, that meant moving to South Carolina, very close to Myrtle Beach, which was about a twelve-hour drive from where my wife Cathy, and I still lived. But again, I could see why they wanted to move there. They would basically have their own little bungalow, which was more of a luxury kind of place rather than the typical condominium or apartment. They didn't have to worry about grounds-keeping obviously, as that was all done and maintained by the retirement center. In addition, there was an adjacent golf course, which was something both mom and dad enjoyed doing. So I could easily envision the two of them golfing almost every day. Though there was also access to horseback riding, boating, as well as a number of events that were held there at the retirement center itself. They had gone there to take a look, and upon their return, had informed us that I'd be the new owner of the business going forward, and that as they say...is that. My wife Cathy and I, had gone there for a very short visit over a long weekend to help them get moved in. To be perfectly honest, after seeing the place, which I felt was more like a resort than a retirement center, I was a little jealous. I made up my mind to try and do things as well as dad had, and eventually retire early, in a place much like this one. We met a few other people while there, especially as they had an open banquet for everyone on the weekends. Mom and dad's neighbors, Jack and Shelly Tillman, were just about the same age as my parents were, give or take a few years, and had obviously already hit it off, as we shared dinner together. Jack was in tip-top shape, even better in some respects than I was, even though I ran every day. He had a full head of bright white hair, and a deep dark tan that didn't look like burnt toast for a change. Shelly was just as attractive looking, though she perhaps still died her hair blonde, though it certainly didn't look unnatural on her. Even more surprisingly, she'd been wearing a two piece tank eenie swim suit when we first met them early that afternoon. It certainly wasn't a bikini or anything like that, but it was certainly cut low enough if front that I had to tear my eyes away from her obvious cleavage, something that wasn't lost on Cathy either as she even gave me a soft elbow in the ribs at one point. But we came away from dinner, and finally our visit feeling like mom and dad were certainly going to be more than happy living here. Once again...I felt a bit jealous, and even Cathy mentioned that she too wouldn't mind retiring in a place similar to this one when it was our turn to live the "easy life". By now, it had been a year since we'd been there for any real visit, so leaving the business in capable hands, Cathy and I decided to take two weeks to go and visit mom and dad. Naturally, they were excited to see us, and certainly had plenty of room as they had a nicely furnished "guest room" just waiting for us. I was already looking forward to golfing myself, and Cathy was looking forward to doing some horseback riding, something she had always wanted to do. The first indication we got that there were some rather strange and strict rules here, was when on the second night of our stay with them, mom and dad informed us that they had a previous commitment they had made, and couldn't get out of. Something about a special Anniversary celebration for another couple, which was a "by invite only” sort of an affair. We had noticed early on that there was an enormous looking clubhouse that was closed off, and well fenced down near the beach. Once again, it was for "members only", no guests allowed. And it was obviously, where this particular party would be held. Cathy and I didn't think much of it however, after all, the only people we knew besides mom and dad, were Jack and Shelly, and even then...only in passing really. I had to laugh when mom told us "Dave and Cathy, Don’t wait up for us," Then with a mischievous little wink, she and dad disappeared out the door together. I hadn't seen the two of them this loving or this intimate with one another in years. ...
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  • Stacey's Breastgasms: Part 2

    Stacey's Breastgasms: Part 2
    Nov 19 2025
    Her Spontaineous Breastgasms: Part 2 Reliving a strange phenomenon. Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Lying there in bed, the feel of my wife's mouth and tongue as she teasingly pleasured me was erotic enough. Marsha could suck cock like nobody's business, and she was driving me nuts just as she knew she could. But what I also enjoyed was the fact she got aroused, turned on whenever I shared any experiences, any stories with her, just as she was now. And just as she so often did for me too. "So what happened after that night?" She then asked. I was having trouble concentrating, but then I drifted back in time...remembering. "It was that very next Monday, after school, and after I had taken a beating from my friends, though not in the literal sense. Stacy was on the prom committee, and they were meeting a short time later after school planning and preparing for our graduating dance. We'd previously agreed to meet at Johnson & Johnson's," I told her. I saw the confused look on my wife's face as I said that, knowing I'd have to explain, which I then did. "As in the baby oil?" she asked questioningly, as I knew she would. I laughed, shaking my head no. "No, we called it that because of two very popular teachers at the school a year back prior to all this. When the school was originally built, someone fucked up on the dimensions, when they built the wall between the auditorium and the gym, they didn't quite come together the way it had been planned for. What they ended up with was a little hall that led nowhere, a three and a half foot dead end. An alcove that later on they planted a tall fake tree in, though someone kept moving it. It became a running joke as to where the tree would end up, leaving that weird little alcove vacant. In the beginning, it was a place to go and steal a quick kiss with your girlfriend, it wasn't long before it became a status symbol for anyone who did." "Ok," Marsha said following along, "But where does the Johnson and Johnson come in?" she then asked. "Someone caught Mrs. Johnson, and Mr. Johnson kissing one another in that alcove. "So? What's wrong with two obviously married teachers having a little fun, simply kissing one another?" "Nothing...except they were both married to different Johnson's at the time," I told her. "Oh!" My wife laughed. "Now I see!" "Over time, the story went from someone catching them kissing, to someone catching them touching, to finally...someone catching them actually fucking. Eventually they were both called in. Denied any of that ever happened of course, but sadly...they were both let go the following year. Ever since then, that alcove that then had a permanently chained tree sitting inside it, was known as Johnson and Johnson corner," which is where Stacy and I had agreed to meet after school. Now...the other thing about that was, the school had quite stupidly created the perfect place, the perfect camouflage to hide what now really began to happen there. Bushy enough, and big enough to hide someone's presence, it was no obstacle to slip around the tree and hide in back of it without being seen. So ironically, the very rumor that had caused the expulsion of the two teachers, now became even more symbolic, and more of a challenge to become a rapidly growing member of a very secretive club. Stacy wanted us to meet there, become members before we graduated. So we decided to meet there quickly before her committee meeting. I sighed delightedly as Marsha began sucking my cock hungrily. "Go on..." she slurred. "So anyway...she was already waiting for me behind the tree when I got there. She had taken off her top, her cute little boobs totally bare, nipples rock hard and waiting for me when I came around and found her. I doubt seriously that anyone actually fucked behind that tree, though there were claims by a few who said they did. I know we were scared that we'd still be discovered, even with it being after school. So I'm sure that a majority of those who claimed they had, were simple exaggerations as well. But Stacy and I were determined at least to do something, and that came in the form of me getting her off, simply by playing with her tits, which I did. I sucked them, played with her nipples, pulling on them just the way she liked until she came. And as I would learn later, I knew she had, simply by the way her face screwed up whenever she did, whether it was simply by tit-play, or when I eventually went down on her, and even fucked her for the first time the night we actually graduated. But I'll save that story for another time," I said smiling. "Point being...after that, wherever, and whenever we could over the course of the next few weeks, I was constantly getting Stacy off, just by playing with her tits whenever we could get away with it." "Well don't stop now...or I will!" Marsha warned me. "What happened next?" "Well, we got braver and bolder as the days went. Though since Stacy hardly ever ...
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  • Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 1

    Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 1
    Nov 18 2025
    Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 1. A high school reunion brings back fond mammories. Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It had been a very long time since I'd seen many of my old high school friends and buddies. The last time had been at the ten year reunion, this would be the thirty year reunion, and I knew that most of us would have changed between now and then; dramatically. Although I was still in reasonably good shape, even without working out specifically, I had still put on a few pounds, but with the exception of a few perhaps, I figured everyone would be in the same boat as I was. I still had a full head of dark hair, though I had noticed just a sprinkle of gray had begun at the temples. The one thing about myself I had always considered my best feature however, were my eyes, bright blue with just a hint of gray in them. There was a caption in the yearbook next to my photo, it read: "Bedroom eyes". Though my wife Marsha hadn't attended the same school I had, nor would know any of my old friends, she was looking forward to going almost as much as I was. And I for one was looking forward to showing her off. Marsha had a great body, though a few years younger than me, and certainly my graduating class, giving her a bit of an edge perhaps in the looks department. Fairly large breasted, a tight waist and firm well rounded ass, I had no doubt she would be the envy of many women there. And though she knew I was secretly entertaining those very thoughts, she was looking forward to going for no other reason than to perhaps meet a few of my old high school girlfriends that I had shared erotic naughty stories about with her over the past few weeks. And one in particular came to mind, wondering if she would in fact, be there, though she hadn't come to the ten year reunion, so it had been at least thirty years since I had even seen Stacy. I had shared the story of our dating experiences with my wife, which had excited Marsha tremendously. Mainly because of the somewhat unusual circumstances, and very erotic nature of my old girlfriend, which was far different than anyone, I had ever known, including now. The thing about Stacy that was so unusual, was the fact she could climax simply by having her tits played with. Maybe there were other women who could do this, but I'd never met anyone else, not like Stacy anyway. Even my own wife Marsha, who loved it when I played with her tits, as much as I wanted to, in fact; She didn't climax simply from my playing with her the way Stacy did. And not that I minded, certainly not. The fact that Marsha enjoyed as much attention as I gave her in that regard was something I relished, enjoyed and was more than pleased with. Marsha has fairly large tits with extremely sensitive nipples, though not too sensitive as to detract from the enjoyment of being able to play with them to my heart's content. I've actually known a couple of women who were exact opposites. One girl allowed my fondling of her with indifference. She had even forewarned me before hand that she felt virtually nothing when I, or anyone else for that matter played with her boobs. Basically, she got nothing out of it beyond seeing me becoming aroused myself. Unfortunately, part of my arousal and excitement has always come from seeing the woman become aroused or excited by whatever I was doing. So in this instance at least, it was a bit of a letdown, and thus took away from the pleasure I would normally have received. On the other side of that same coin, I had also known a woman who's nipples were simply too sensitive. Once aroused, she could hardly stand to have anyone even touch them. Even just looking at them sent her into giggling fits, super sensitivity once again taking away from, rather than adding to, the enjoyment and sensuality of that particular form of foreplay. Which was a crying shame too, as Gayle; as I recall her name being, had a really nice looking set of tits too. But once she was truly aroused, it was always "hands off", after that. Now the thing about Stacy was, she didn't have really large tits either. She was the type of girl that a well-known saying was written for, "More than a (good-sized) handful is wasted!" I guess if you were to classify her, her tits would be considered on the small side. Certainly not flat chested, not by any means, and yes, when I held them within my hands, they filled them more than adequately with still a bit left over for good measure. But the thing was, Stacy literally could climax, and very often did, just by my playing with them. We had started dating, had been going out for well over a month with nothing more than a few deep soulful kisses being shared between us. With her tits being not quite so large, she very often didn't wear a bra, her pert nipples poking through and pressing against the material of whatever tee shirt or tank top she was wearing. But I always found it interesting that she only did that, going ...
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  • Helping the Karlssons: Part 3

    Helping the Karlssons: Part 3
    Nov 17 2025
    Helping the Karlssons: Part 3. Variations, before the church girls return to Father. Based on a post by m jar 65. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Do you like girls touching you?" asked Summer as she ran her fingertips over the shaft. Tim simply smiled in reply and she traced her fingers over his ridges and veins. "I've never really looked at a man's cock before," she murmured. "Yours looks gorgeous." That compliment caused Tim's cock to pulse and harden. Summer did not miss the effect her words and touch had on him. But her eyes were on a new prize. "Can I touch your balls? I don't want to hurt them;” Excited by the idea, knowing it was Summer's first time, Tim gently moved her hand lower. His girlfriend had rarely shown interest in touching his balls. Every male knew the pleasure of a soft touch on his scrotum. Summer followed his lead, gently running the tips of her fingers over the soft, hairy skin of his sack. It was her first time to touch a boy there and she was excited and, yet, still concerned. "Is this Okay?" she asked tentatively. Tim responded by curling her fingers, cupping her hand around the precious pouch. Summer carefully applied a little pressure, nervous that she not cause any pain. "Oh, wow! I can feel them," she gasped. "So hard;” Summer loved the way his balls felt, hard inside the soft skin, warm to the touch and, she knew, full of wonderful manly semen that attested to the power of the male. She was intoxicated by being permitted to touch Tim in such an intimate place. She wanted to do something more to please him. "Don't you want to cum now?" "What if I cum on your face?" feeling wicked and lucky at the same time. This was something of a test for them both. Tim had never dared ask this of a woman. Summer was a wild and sexy young woman who seemed open to trying anything. But perhaps he was going too far. Her look of shock made Tim far she was ready to flee. "That's so dirty," she giggled. "But if you want to do it;” "Let’s get you ready first," he said, trying to sound gallant. "Let me lick your cunt again." Summer had no reason to argue. She thought of Tim was a real man and his willingness to give pleasure with his mouth seemed to prove it. The chance to have more of his tongue on her sex was too great to pass up. "Oh, sweet Lord," she moaned as his tongue pierced her swollen lips to find the tip of her hardened clit. Tim was learning how much he enjoyed the taste of a woman's cunt. The fact she was his daughter's boss, a good church-going girl, only made it hotter to be thrusting his tongue into her soaking hole and sucking on her straining clit. "I can't take any more, Tim. You have to stop. I need you to cum." He relented then, leaving her gasping down breaths as she recovered from the exertions. It made her beautiful chest heave up and down and Tim wanted to suck on his nipples again. "I have to get home," she breathed. "Father will be upset. But first I want you to cum." Summer Karlsson had watched enough porn, secretly and even hidden from her sister, to know how men liked to cum on a girl's face. She had marveled at other women seemingly enjoying the experience of taking a load of semen on their faces. She'd never imagined it to be degrading, somehow it felt more like deference to a man who was special enough. Tim was a wonderful lover. Or so she thought. And, besides, he'd asked her to give this act to him. Still panting, Summer went to her knees beside his bed. She hoped that her sweet face and her sexy, curvy body would be enough for Tim. Surely he was more than horny enough? Tim could not believe his luck. No woman he'd fucked till now would ever have agreed to this. And Summer looked so sweet and ready, her cute smile and her blonde hair. Her juicy C-cups hung so nicely as she waited for him, kneeling and passive. He stood before Summer, like her imagining that his cock looked powerful as it hovered over her. "You have an impressive cock," she told him. Tim didn't ask permission again before he started stroking himself as the church girl watched closely. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, as if the young woman needed encouragement. Summer was right and he was super horny. And he was beside himself with the opportunity. Tim had watched a lot more porn that her. She was right that a facial was dirty. But in the best of ways. He loved the idea that a woman could be so hungry that she'd take his cum on her pretty face. And Summer really wanted it. She was kneeling in front of him, waiting with a smile and a wicked look in her eye. "I'm gonna cum," he groaned. "So much." At that instant, his cock spasmed and the first blast of his hot cum spewed out. Fortunately, Summer had just enough time to blink as that first missile was launched at her. A long rope of white cum flew through the air and over her, landing on her face and draping a lovely, thick line of cock juice over her blonde hair and down over one eye and one cheek. For some reason, she ...
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