Inspired by Kayla Lord’s Masturbation Monday.
Emily knew she didn’t have anything to worry about. Adam and Jason had been friends for years and this was nothing more than their annual fishing trip. But this year she couldn’t keep her thoughts from racing. Maybe it had to do with Jason’s recent divorce. Or maybe it was the way Adam teased her before he left about crushing on his friend. Regardless of the cause, her thoughts and emotions had been all over the place since the men left two days ago.
It was Friday night and I was laying in bed playing on Instagram.
“Girl,” there was a warning in His tone.
“Yes, Daddy?” I didn’t look up, scrolling through more and more pictures of spanking and bondage and thigh highs.
Inspired by this week’s Masturbation Monday meme, put forth by the dedicated and lovely Kayla Lords.
He lay there, unable to sleep, his cock hard with images from the weekend flashing through his mind. He’d assumed his lust had been satisfied with all the fucking they did, but apparently not.
It was a long weekend. Family. Funeral. Friends.
Drugs and alcohol.
And M and I were up late last night, and didn’t end up fucking until after midnight.
And apparently I got off again on his hand randomly in the middle of the night.
She was leaning against the bar, half watching the game, idly playing on her phone. He’d been watching her all night–hell, all month if he’d be honest with himself. Every Sunday, Monday, and Thursday, she rolled in, ordered a 7 and 7, and pretended to watch whatever football game was on the big screen.
Happy Anniversary, Kayla!
Carrie knew she was starting to get drunk, not because the room was spinning, but by the conversation she and Beth were having. Carrie never shared much about her and Mike’s sex life, but tonight, on their third bottle of wine between the two of them, she was talking more than ever.
There’s nothing better than watching a man touch himself. A grip that’s both soft and hard, squeezing and caressing at the same time. It’s the true epitome of what it is to be a man, hard and in control, yet with a soft touch where it counts.
Jen heard the bartender call last call at the same moment she realized she’d drank just a little too much and the room was starting to tilt. “Fuck,” she murmured, hoping the spinning wouldn’t start before she got home safe.
It had been a long day. Too long of a day. Between the baby’s cries and the bitchy women at work, she was exhausted.
Once the house was quiet for the night, she poured herself a glass of wine and headed into the bathroom, the water for her bath already filling the room with steamy fog.