Deep in my private locker, this secret burned for years. April 2012. Heart stents fixed me up. Doctor ordered rest, no heavy thrusting. Ondine, my wife of 25 years, took charge. Missionary reverse: her on top, me passive. Libido exploded. Her mouth, tits, pussy engulfed my cock. She swallowed every load, snowballed the bitter cum…
Here I am, in this dim hotel room after the seminar games. Heart pounding. The air thick with booze and sweat from the group’s strip games. Sylvie’s already off with her studs. I’m naked, waxed smooth, my swirl tattoo pointing to my slit like an invitation. Joël’s out, a dud snorer. Now Fabrice. His eyes…
Here in my private locker, the digital vault where I bury my dirtiest secrets, I’m cracking it open. No more holding back. This one’s burned into me—the day I let lust flood out with Monique, our new neighbor. She’s short, curvy, brunette fire. Opposite of my tall, slim blonde wife Marjolaine. Jacques, her hubby, is…
I’m cracking open my Private Locker right now. That dusty corner of my mind where I bury the filthiest secrets. The ones that make my cock twitch just thinking about them. This one’s from a freezing autumn harvest. Tiny vineyard, ten of us picking rotten grapes on icy ground. Back-breaking work, but the wine breaks…
Deep in my private locker, this secret burned for years. That Thursday, I headed to Laurie’s attic for woodworking. Her car was there—unexpected. Door ajar, I slipped in. Voices upstairs. Moans. I froze on the stairs, ear cocked. Eric pounding her pussy, chatting our old swaps. ‘Did Lise suck you deep?’ Laurie probed in Dutch-French…