This story takes place in Munich Germany, at an
establishment called the Pink Pussy~. This location; a
“very private” club that caters to a special clientele.
Socially and sexually sophisticated jet-setters visit
this private club whenever they might be in town. There
are other places like the Pink Pussy~ around the world,
but none quite as entertaining as this particular one. Gretchen is a Private Dancer. She’s had many
experiences in her young life, but the one she
describes here, is one of her favorites. 
Continue reading Private Dancer
Tag: sex story
Sex trip at the school
As soon as Mark had told me now to dress, I was worried.
My shortest skirt was extremely short and I had only worn it once. It was a
faded red color, made of very thin denim material, but not thick like jeans
or anything like that. I had bought it at a thrift store when cruising
shops with a guy I had been seeing some time back. It had only cost a
couple of dollars. When I tried it on for him after we got to his home, we
were both amazed at how short it really was. I swore I would never wear it
in public. After some time had passed I had forgotten about the skirt and
on Valentines Day I asked him if there was anything special he wanted me
to wear that evening. He talked me into wearing the faded red skirt and
even into going out with him to a bar he had been wanting to go to where he
could shoot pool.
Continue reading Sex trip at the school
Dirty Files 1.
I’ll admit, things were pretty rough the first year after I
divorced Vickie. Bachelorhood just wasn’t the same now, now that I was
29, now that I had a house in the suburbs and a 9 to 9 job, and all
the rest of the goodies that come with modern adulthood. It was tough
to meet people and I was getting very lonely, especially around the
holidays. My family was split up all over the country and I just
couldn’t get up the energy to listen to all of them dissect my split.
Instead, I stayed home and stewed in my juices.
Continue reading Dirty Files 1.
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.
Mother Maggie a Cougar On the Prowl
Margot Covington was a wealthy widow in her late 40s. She was of Filipino-American decent, golden-brown skinned, and raven hair all packed into a slender, muscular frame of about 115 lbs and petite 5’1”. Her phenomenal but small figure was the result of intense, regular workouts which had become her daily coping mechanism following the death of her husband. Margot enjoyed working out, it made her feel powerful and she became a bit of a health fanatic. Her husband had been a crypto investor in the early days of the fledgling enterprise and amassed a sizeable fortune before his untimely death in motorcycle crash out in California.
After the death of her late husband, and her son Bryon moved to Vienna, Virginia to be closer to family and to ensure Bryson was in the best schools. She became depressed and threw all of her energy into fitness and education. She earned two Master’s degrees one Mechanical Engineering and another in Business Finance. Margot never dated, but instead focused on raising her son Bryson and staying busy. Margot didn’t swear off sex, but found between working out, managing her newly acquired assets, and raising her son she had little time for the distractions and complications romance would have brought into her life. Margot frequently had men hit on her and make sexual advances, but she was always careful to keep them at a distance for her son’s sake and to stave off any gold diggers in search of a quick payday. She had needs like any woman, but she chose to pleasure herself through masturbation, toys, literature, and eventually porn.
Louvre Love
Across the wide marble floor of the art museum, I think I see
your face again. It’s too much of a coincidence! I saw you earlier,
I’m sure at the fountain in the park. I was watching the cute little
stone cherubs peeing into the water, while you were staring up at the
muscular nude goddess towering above the main geysers. And I’m pretty
sure that was you last night standing on the bridge over the Seine,
gazing dreamily into the churning water. Now, here at the museum, our
paths intersect again.
