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Author: sexandporn
An Elevator Sex Story
Mike Everett, a twenty seven year old instructor in the physics
department, approached the impressive arch of the school’s entrance
determined to make a move on something that had become very important to
him.
“Hello, John,” he greeted the middle age black man with a white mustache
who served as security on the evening shift.
“Hi, there, almost Dr. Mike,” the man replied.
Mike was months away from finishing the requirements for a Ph.D.
“Working late again?” John asked.
“I work for a purpose, you know.”
“Yeah, Mike, and your purpose is up in the library as usual on a
Wednesday.”
“It’s more like an obsession than a goal, John. I can’t sleep at night.
I see her pretty face in my mind and resist dozing off. I want to suck
her neck then sniff her all over.”
“Hah! Mike, I’ve had that feeling with three women, and I knocked them
all up.”
Making Sacrifices 2.
Amy hid in her bedroom, wanting to get away from all the yelling
and screaming and flying projectiles of the other room. She wanted to
slap her hands over her ears to keep out all the noise, but that was
too childish for her. Instead, she sat on her bed, clutching her
comforter to her small body. Soon there was the sound of the screen
door banging shut and angry feet stomping down the front steps. Not
given to tears, Amy sat there thoughtfully, staring at nothing in
particular. Then she did what she always did when depressed; Amy
curled on her side on the bed, pulled the comforter over her head, and
slept.
She was woken minutes later by large, rough hand rubbing back
and forth on her shoulder and male voice saying, “Shh. Be quiet,
Amy,” over and over again.
Making Sacrifices
“Jonathan, stop the car,” Amy demanded, her features resolute. “Right
now. This minute.”
His head swiveled around. “Are you insane? It’s two in the
morning,” he pointed out incredulously. His grip on the steering
wheel tightened until his knuckles were white. “I’m not going to let
you walk home from here.”
Amy inhaled deeply, mentally counting to ten. Then to twenty.
It didn’t help. Her eyes fairly burned. “I’ll call a cab from a
payphone or something. Just stop the car and let me out. I don’t
want to spend another second with you. I-I don’t understand how you
can be such–Ugh! Just take stop this car. Please.”
Mass Transit
I cursed mass transit. More than a half million people in this city
and they all insist on driving to work, it seemed. So I, in deference
to my civic duty, took to traveling on the bus and light-rail system.
Not only did I save money, I had more time to read and listen to music
during the trips.
Mass-transit; Tri-Met as known in the Portland area, is very popular.
Too popular, I say. I pay a full fare, and here I stand in the aisle
of the train, while men and fat women take up seats.
Assholes! Haven’t you men ever learned of manners? You sit there
like fat, roasting pigs staring mundanely and absently out the fogged
windows as if I am not standing inches from you! I’d like to say that
out loud, of course.
Late for Dinner
EEEEEEeeeeeee! Kathy bolted upright in bed. She didn’t remember
setting her alarm clock. She quickly shut off the offending noise and
quietly slid out of bed. She didn’t want to wake Christi, who obviously
hadn’t been bothered by the alarming alarm.
The sleepy girl stretched and yawned as she padded to the bathroom.
Seating herself on the toilet, Kathy was just about to let nature take
its course when she made a startling revelation: someone had slipped a
pair of white panties on her as she slept. She almost messed them
before realizing they were there! Who would pull such a sneaky prank?
