We finished lunch, and as soon as my father left, he didn't like that, my mother called me to the little room in the back where her mini salon was, and there we started the preparations.The theme would be wedding, so I could hope for the best.As always, she started by putting a headband on my head, so that it wouldn't get dirty or even mess up my hair, which in my case was blonde and long.
Before we get to the facts, a few clarifications. At the time, I was 18 years old, about 5'10", 178kg, athletic, with a light tan, dark hair, and a very typical formal haircut. I was already dating, and my cousin knew about it.Ray was a little older, 21, a tall woman, 5'7", with pale skin, a sharp nose and face, and straight black hair, usually worn in a ponytail. Her breasts were the ideal size, not exaggerated, and what really caught her attention were her thick legs and round butt, thanks to the Muay Thai she'd practiced since her teens.
The heat wasn't coming from the street. I could have sworn the blazing sun outside, baking the asphalt and making the air shiver, was just a side effect. The true hell was inside me, a low, constant oven that burned in the pit of my stomach and spread to my groin, a throbbing, delicious weight that made it impossible to think of anything else.
I'll start by describing myself, but those who aren't interested can skip this: I'm white, 1.68m (short, I know). When I was training, I was a relatively muscular guy for a natural physique, but for some reason I stopped going to the gym a few months ago and I'm doing calisthenics now, which hasn't helped me maintain as much muscle mass and has given me a slight beer belly on weekends, lol. Nothing too serious, but I don't have defined abs anymore and I'm what people here call a "galego" (fair-skinned), I have lighter hair, though not completely blonde.
I have a girlfriend, I really like women and pussy, my girlfriend lacks nothing in bed, sex every weekend, intense, and she cums about 5 or 6 times every time, but I'm "kind of" bi. Why kind of? Because I don't like men, I like dicks. Lol. I'm not attracted to men, men's bodies, whether they're handsome or ugly, zero. But I do like dicks. That one does attract me if it's the way I like it. All of this off the record.
0 ( 0 )It was a normal Thursday in our routine. I had gone out to take care of some things downtown, and my wife stayed home working. She works in event planning, so part of her work is done from home, through calls to suppliers, purchases, and sometimes calls with clients.Well, while I was still on the street, I received a message from her:"Hi love! Work is stressful today ???? I need to relax... you know, right? lol"Yes, I already knew exactly what she wanted. I replied that I would arrive soon and that she could do whatever she wanted with me.
I met this woman in her early twenties while watching one of her Twitch streams. We became friends over time, and her stream grew quite a bit. She's even living alone in a super comfortable apartment, even though it's not very big. Her average viewership is probably between 80 and 150 people. There's a secret "benefit" to her streams for those who support her, whether by being active, donating, helping her out, etc. (I'll talk about that in a moment), but these people become important to her streams.
The house was silent when Luana arrived. I had already prepared everything—the atmosphere, the details, every corner of the room seemed to conspire in favor of what I wanted to happen. She entered with that look of curiosity, mixed with a touch of hesitation, like someone who senses she is about to enter territory that doesn't entirely belong to her, but which, at the same time, she wants to explore."Good evening, Luana," I said, my voice firm but low, letting each word carry authority. She responded with a slight nod, without saying much. I knew that at that moment, any gesture from her already spoke louder than words.
I’d been dating Mei for about four months when it happened. She’s 24, born in Shanghai but grew up here, petite with silky black hair down to her waist, soft almond eyes, and that quiet shyness that always drove me crazy. We’d fooled around plenty: long make-out sessions on my couch, my hands under her skirt, her grinding on my lap until we were both breathless. But every time things got really heated, she’d stop me just before I could slide inside her. She was traditional in some ways, wanted to take it slow, and I respected that, even if it left me aching
It was a quiet Thursday evening in early December, and for once the apartment was completely mine. My roommate had gone to visit her family for the weekend, and I had the whole place to myself until Sunday. I’m 25, single after a messy breakup a few months ago, and lately I’d been craving touch more than ever. The kind of deep, aching need that keeps you restless at night.