NK - Sweet and Salty

Disclaimer--Nothing written is true. Let me know if you want me to keep going with the story. * I suppose I should start from when I purchased the binoculars. The directions allowed for programming a limit of two images into the lenses. When a person looked through the binocs at something, they were getting bombarded by strong subliminal imagery. These images would ingrain into the subconscious of the person. I was cautioned that the power of the images varied depending on the person they were being used on, but once the images were in, it was almost impossible to get them out. For example, if you wanted to cure someone who had arachnophobia, you would put an image of a person stepping on a spider alongside an image of a spider beside a person who was obviously happy to see the spider. It was paramount to program the right images; things the mind could latch onto in order to create the idea you'd be putting into their mind. It was true you were limited to two images, but you co...

PROLOGUE I grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania, where most of the nine hundred or so people, who lived there, often didn't lock their doors. Being part of the baby boomer generation, meant that a lot of those residents, were my age, or a few years older or younger, give or take. A lot of our parents were veterans of World War II, and a few families had suffered losses in that war. But this story isn't about wars or hardships. The summer after I graduated high school, I learned what it meant to work in a very physical, full-time job at a stone quarry. We worked ten-hour shifts and five more on Saturdays. I was in the best shape of my life at eighteen years old. Working that kind of schedule meant we had to squeeze our fun into a few short hours every evening over that summer. In less than a month, I would be starting my freshman year at a major university. So, this summer had kind of a last-chance feeling. If Bryan Adam's song, 'Summer Of '69' had been writ...

Disclaimers: As with almost all my stories, each and every character in this tale resides in the deep recesses of my mind. If they are lucky enough to partake in sexual stuff, they are over 18. If I use the name of a real person, its just for authenticity. Onto my story. * What the hell am I doing? I'm closing in on my 50th birthday, and I'm actually thinking about dating a man barely older than both of my daughters, and a white man, to boot. You see, I'm a black woman, who some would call plus sized. I'm nearly 5'10" and I won't give you the satisfaction of admitting my weight. Let me try to explain. I'm Karen Brown, I have been a widow for just over three years, after after 24 wonderful years of marriage to Louis Brown, who played professional baseball for 20 seasons. The last 16 of those seasons in Seattle. Three years ago, Louis lost his battle with brain cancer. It cut his career short, as well as his life. We both grew up in Tyler, Texas, and co...

Your phone vibrates against the table and you ignore it. A minute later another buzz only this time curiosity gets the better of you and you discretely turn your phone over and place it in your lap hoping your dinner companions stay preoccupied in the current conversation as you look at the message from me. It's a picture of me in a girlcock, the message below reading, We're waiting for you... You groan and then cough to cover it up, doing your best to rejoin the conversation. It's a struggle though because I continue to send you pictures. The second one I send is a picture of my cock lined up against a real one, equally impressive and leaking precum. The third picture is of a sex bench with the two of us standing at opposite ends. As you are looking at it another text pops up. We have plans for you. Excuse yourself and head to the washroom. This has your cock hardening against your tight suit pants and you shift in your chair attracting attention. "Everything okay...

COCK-SUCKER: A BUM-BOY'S GREAT ANAL ADVENTURE . It's such an amazing feeling to know that an older more mature guy is hitting on YOU!!!! I just tend to melt, into a tongue-tied mess. Me...? It's little me he wants....? Oh Gosh, I can't believe my luck, I feel so grateful and fortunate. And to know that he's aroused... for me! When I detect that hardness in his pants, and know that it's because of me...! The first time he drops his pants and I get to see the breathtaking beauty of his cock, engorged and erect in anticipation of fucking ME, ME, ME. Just how good can life get? And I simper and pretend-coy, and coo about how big he is, be gentle with me... but not TOO gentle. I'm a boy who simply adores BIG cock. And to know, with absolute certainty, that that big hard cock is about to fuck me. Please can I kiss it? Get up close and personal with it. Lick it. Taste that little drop of nectar oozing from the piss-hole. Gorge myself on it like the total slut I a...