When I quit smoking eight months ago, my health conscious wife was elated, for she had been after me for years to kick “that filthy habit.” Her joy lasted seven weeks about the time it took her to realize that I was eating for two. “We’re going to have to do something about that,” she said firmly, poking a finger in my stomach. “I’ve got to teach you how to eat all over again. And I’m going to work up a daily exercise program for you. We’ll make a new man out of you.”

Robin approached my makeover with frightening zealousness. I was determined, however, to resist eating the grass, seaweed, straw and whatever else in the way of nutritious “food” I knew she would be serving me from then on. I had yet to see a health food restaurant patron who didn’t look like death warmed over, and I saw no reason to have great insides if on the outside you seemed this close to cashing in. I had always been a meat and potatoes man, and that’s how I intended to stay.

As for exercise, I didn’t think it necessary. True, I had put on a few pounds well, twenty, to be exact but to hear Robin tell it, you’d think I was turning into a blimp. So I was a bit overweight most men my age carried around a little extra baggage. It was no big deal.

The only thing that made sense to me was Robin’s insistence on a checkup. It had been years since I’d last seen a doctor, and I figured that now, at the age of forty, it wouldn’t hurt to get a complete physical. Was I ever thrilled when the good doctor checked me over and pronounced me fit as a fiddle. I couldn’t wait to lay this delicious news on my wife.

Robin’s reaction was to suggest that I seek a second opinion, having immediately concluded that my doctor was incompetent. I rejected the idea of a second opinion. “I feel great,” I said, giving my chest a thump. “In fact, I think I’ll celebrate the good news with a piece of chocolate cake.”

“Go ahead, Tubby,” my wife said. “Just don’t expect a piece tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Simple. No diet and exercise, no sex. The next time we do it will be when you’ve lost twenty pounds. So you have a choice me or chocolate cake.”

I knew Robin was serious and I also knew she would stick to her guns, no matter how horny she got. Resignedly I put myself in my wife’s hands. You can do it, I told myself. You quit smoking, and that was pure hell. Nothing could be worse than nicotine withdrawal.

Well, the first week was sheer torture. Gone were the fat stick bun and coffee with cream I looked forward to each morning. They were replaced by half a grapefruit, a fiber rich cereal, dry toast and skim milk. “This is awful,” I moaned. “This is nutritious,” my wife countered.

And then there was the early morning run, requiring me to get up a half hour earlier to torture my legs and lungs. Robin was out the door and down the block before I could stagger down the front steps. The first few days I did all I could do to make it to the corner before wrapping myself around a lamppost, gasping for air as I envisioned myself being raced to Emergency in my snazzy new jogging suit.

Despite Robin’s daily lecture on willpower, I could have cheated during the day. And in the beginning I did, a little. At work, alone in my office, I would attack a dish of lasagna with fiendish delight, chomping on Italian bread loaded with butter and washing it all down with a soft drink. And sometimes, in the late afternoon, to brace myself for another low calorie, low cholesterol, low taste meal that night, I’d run down to the coffee shop in the lobby and buy the biggest piece of pastry I could find.

But for the most part I behaved myself, simply because I was loathe to torture myself for nothing. If I was going to have to get up earlier every day and jog, if I was going to have to spend my every waking hour with a growling stomach, I damn well wanted to see some results.

Ten days into this get in shape regimen, I came home from work to find one of those home exercise contraptions in the bedroom. It was a gift from my wife: her way of rewarding me for my progress so far. I approached the machine warily, as one might alien beings, and listened half heartedly as Robin pointed out all its features. It seemed the damn thing did everything but walk the dog.

Now I was jogging or working out in the morning while staying true to my diet, and darn if after only four weeks I didn’t start to feel really good. I actually looked forward to starting each day with an invigorating run or forty minutes on the exercise machine. Even the carefully measured portions of low calorie food I was eating were beginning to taste good!

The biggest plus of all was my increased libido. Not having had sex for a month contributed to my horniness, of course, but there was more to it than that. A general feeling of well being translated into a heightened awareness of sex, and I started viewing my wife not merely as the woman who had shared my bed for the past fourteen years, but as an incredibly desirable female. I lusted after her as I had years ago, my cock stiffening immediately as I followed the fluid bounce of her tight ass in her jogging shorts or took in her glistening body after a session on the exercise machine.

Then came the memorable night that I stepped on the bathroom scale, a mighty bulge in my briefs, as usual. Peering down at the scale, my wife exclaimed, “You did it, Frank! I knew you could!” I stepped off the scale and she threw her arms around me, grinding against my bulge as we kissed passionately. With me in hot pursuit, Robin dashed for the bedroom.

Stripping out of her sweat suit, she told me how horny she was, how she had started to think her no weight loss no sex ultimatum, how happy she was that we could now fuck. Her lust thickened voice was proof that she had suffered as much as I had these past five weeks. As I skinned my briefs, Robin threw herself onto the bed.

“Fuck me, darling,” she begged. “Stick it in me and fuck me like you’ve never fucked me before.”

I mounted my wife with an animal like fury, burying my aching cock balls deep in the heavenly cove of her pussy. Four quick thrusts and I was coming, depositing what felt like a half pint of semen in her bank of love. My cock remained hard, however, and I continued thrusting into my wife, who moaned joyously at the force and depth of my thrusts.

Robin came, her fingernails digging into my back as she cried out with pleasure. But she wanted more and in a breathless voice told me to go into her from behind. I pulled out and she quickly rolled over and placed herself in a low crouch, head down and bottom up. Seconds later we were coupling again, my cock driving deep into her pussy and wrenching a groan of delight from her throat.

Robin came twice more before I sent a second load of semen gushing into her heavenly hole. Breathing heavily, I collapsed on top of her, my weight forcing her flat on the bed. We stayed like that until our breathing returned to normal, then separated and rolled over onto our backs. But we weren’t through yet.

Soon enough Robin was on her knees and sucking me hungrily. She licked and sucked with the enthusiasm of a young bride combined with the expertise of an experienced woman, and in no time I was hard again. This time she mounted me, a shout of triumph accompanying the slide down my fleshy pole. With her face flushed and her tits jiggling crazily, she bounced up and down, again and again impaling her pussy on my cock. She came twice, and as the second orgasm coursed through her and her face contorted with pleasure, I shot another load of semen into her drenched pussy.

Amazingly, twenty minutes later I was ready to go again, thanks to another wicked blowjob from my wife. Then, with Robin flat on her back, I straddled her chest, placing my cock in the smooth, warm valley between her lovely breasts. As she held them together for me, I fucked her tits until, at her urging, I came all over her beautiful face. Lifting myself off her chest, I moved up over her face so she could lick and suck my cock clean. Only when my cock was limp did I roll over onto my back. Now, finally, I was too exhausted even to speak.

It was without a doubt our most spectacular night of fucking in all our married life. Not even on our honeymoon had our lust for each other been so ferocious, so all consuming. And it wasn’t simply because we had done without sex for over a month. The jogging, the diet, the daily sessions on the exercising machine had raised my energy level several notches and given me much greater stamina. I felt sexier than I had in years, and this, I was sure, had contributed not a little to my wife’s wildly enthusiastic response to me.

The next day, Saturday, my wife served me breakfast in bed. As she slipped into bed next to me, her first words were, “God, I think I’ve created a monster. You were unbelievable last night.”

“But that was last night,” I said, grinning. “You know I’ve always enjoyed sex in the morning.”

“You’re kidding,” Robin said, her eyes wide. She reached under the blanket and her fingers curled around my erection. “God, I don’t believe it! What have I done?”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Seems I read somewhere that sex is pretty good exercise too.”

My wife chuckled. “Maybe what we’ll do then, is run every other morning.”

Mr. F.K., Massachusetts

I’ve always kept myself in peak condition. All throughout high school and college I was a member of the football team and I even spent one year on crew. As you might suspect, I’m a rather imposing figure, six feet five and 225 pounds.

But after college I took a job in institutional sales at a large brokerage house, where I spent most of my time behind a desk on the telephone. Granted, I loved the work and the rewards were substantial, but I quickly realized that I was beginning to get soft around that middle and that what used to be rock hard muscle was dissolving into unsightly flab.

A friend of mine suggested I join his health club. At first I was under the impression that it would be something like a YMCA or something similar to what I’d experienced in college: a large, dingy space filled with weight machines and bulky, sweating men grunting and shouting as they heaved barbells over their heads. Was I in for a shock! For starters, the club is coed. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that the women outnumber the men by a healthy two to one margin.

My friend, Bill, said he’d be more than happy to introduce me to some of his friends and give me the grand tour. Our first stop was the pool.

What a sight! Women were everywhere. Beautiful women. Wet women. Women in tight pink Lycra swimsuits that cupped their asses and hugged their groins like second skin. Everywhere I looked, I saw women with long, beautiful legs and hard nipples poking against colorful swimsuits a room full of sexy bodies and pretty, smiling, inviting female faces.

Continuing the tour, Bill showed me the squash courts, the weight rooms, the mat rooms and the sauna, and then brought me up to the roof, where the club had a track and tennis courts.

All of this was very appealing and I was eager to get going, but Bill told me there was one more place he wanted to show me. The aerobics room.

I knew all about aerobics at least I thought I did. They were generally for women and fat, unathletic men who want an easy workout. It was essentially calisthenics, bouncing and stretching. Nothing too physical. So I told Bill that I didn’t need to see it. But he insisted.

“Your tour won’t be complete without seeing this,” he told me, smiling suggestively.

The entire basement of the club was used exclusively for aerobics. Two large rooms surrounded by mirrors and glass were packed with some of the most gorgeous women I have ever laid my eyes on. Tall, voluptuous women small perky girls and elegant seductresses. All shapes, sizes and colors. And to the beat of dance music, they bounced in unison, their tits jiggling about, their asses tight. I was completely captivated and watched, speechless, for nearly twenty minutes before I realized that I had a hard on. The first thing I would have to do, I knew, was sign up for the aerobics program.

I arrived at the class in an old pair of gray practice shorts that I had used years ago for football. What I had failed to realize was that the shorts had shrunk over time, and I’d gotten bigger. They were tight, to say the least, and while I really didn’t mind wearing a pair of shorts that accentuated my ass, they were phenomenally tight in the crotch, and I could actually make out the outline of my cock and balls in the mirror.

Also, I hadn’t accounted for the fact that a room filled with women would also be a room filled with seductive aromas. The sight of tem, the smell of them, quickly made my cock swell. There I was amidst thirty women with my true colors flying!

At first, I was embarrassed, but then a pretty young blonde approached me. “You’re gorgeous,” she said matter of factly. “You new here?”

He name was Ellen and it was apparent from the get go that she wanted more from me than just friendly banter. That was fine with me, since I was ready to ravage her right there on the floor.

We chatted briefly, and when the class began, she situated herself in front of me, no doubt so that I could get a better view of her. Ellen had long golden locks that she tied in a ponytail. Her skin was clear, her eyes blue. She wore a pale blue Danskin and white tights. Needless to say, she was a sight to behold. Her legs were long and muscular, her ass was tight and round and her tits stood out form her chest.

As the music began and the instructor led us in exercise, my eyes danced over Ellen’s body, imagining how extraordinary she’d be in bed. When she bent over to grab her ankles, I wanted to plunge my cock through her Danskin, I was so horny. After class, she suggested we go back to her place. I was elated.

“I’ll meet you after I shower,” I said.

“Don’t bother,” she said. My place is less than a mile away. We can job and you can shower there.”

“But my clothes…”

“You won’t be needing them,” she interrupted.

Out into the street we ran, and I couldn’t help but feel conspicuous as my big dick jiggled about in my tight shorts. I was sure all eyes were on me. Even so, anticipating screwing Ellen was enough to keep my priorities straight.

Her place was surprisingly large, and she had an entire room that she used for working out. It was there that she led me.

“Haven’t you had enough exercise for one day?” I asked.

“Not the kind I need,” she shot back. With that, she moved closer and kissed me. Her lips were wet, soft and hot. “Get naked,” she said.

I tore off my sweat soaked t shirt and then slithered out of my gym shorts. As I stood before her in nothing but a jockstrap, she knelt before me and pulled the elastic from my waist. My cock sprang up and brushed her lips. Ellen breathed in the musk of my sweaty loins and then took my balls in her mouth and began slobbering over them. Pleasure surged through me.

Before long she, too, was naked. Her large nipples were erect, her pussy fleshy, and her sunny pubic bush clipped into the shape of a heart. Her tanned body was tight and dripping sweat. I realized that she had intentionally turned off the air conditioning and closed the windows to increase the temperature.

I got on my back and Ellen straddled my face. Her cunt was so pink and wet, and her intoxicating fragrance wafted up my nostrils.

“Eat me!” she said.

Not hesitating, I slid my tongue into her delicious cavern, gently nibbling on her labia, teasing her slit with my tongue. As I sucked on her, my hands roamed over her beautiful breasts.

Our bodies were glistening with sweat and we slipped about on her exercise mat.

“Fuck me,” she begged. “Fuck me!”

On all fours now, Ellen arched her sexy back and presented her ripe rump. Inserting my thumb into the snug orifice that was her anus, I thrust my aching cock into her cunt and started fucking her with a strong and steady rhythm.

Our bodies were perfectly in tune, and before very long we were crying out in harmony as I released streams of hot come inside her.

After we rested, Ellen and I showered. I bathed her gorgeous body with scented soap. Then, aroused again, we fucked a second time.

Ellen and I still belong to the same gym, and we work out together regularly. And as you might expect, a session always concludes with our leaving the club and jogging back to Ellen’s place for some post aerobic sex.

Mr. T.J., Illinois

Larry, my husband, and I love to bicycle, and it was the first really warm, bright day of spring. We train hard indoors during the winter, but the first outdoor ride in spring is always purely for enjoyment.

Larry is six two and keeps himself in really good shape: broad, muscular shoulders, chest and arms, tight butt and thickly muscled legs. He looks terrific in anything or nothing but I get particularly turned on seeing him in his cycling shorts and jersey. The skintight red and black material accentuates his muscles and the bulge in his crotch. The warm air and sunshine had me feeling sexy even before I walked into the garage, but when I saw my guy in his riding outfit, I knew it was going to be a great night in the sack when we got home. I had dressed to get a rise out of Larry, too. My formfitting cycling shorts really showed off my firm rear end, and my already hard nipples showed plainly beneath my bare midriff jersey. My ploy must have worked, because Larry looked up at me and smiled wickedly.

“You know,” he said, “we could get our exercise without leaving the house.” His cock was already half erect and neatly outlined in the sleek black material of his shorts. As badly as I wanted to run upstairs and fuck right then and there, I knew an exhilarating tour though the countryside would heighten our pleasure when we finally got to our more sensuous workout.

We picked a flat, easy course so we could just enjoy the day, and Larry took the lead. The warm breeze playing on my skin felt wonderful, and the strong spring sun warmed my bare shoulders and my back and ass. The slick jersey rubbed against my super sensitive nipples, drawing them tighter and exciting them even more, and the narrow bicycle seat between my pumping thighs rubbed hard against my pussy and asshole, sending shivers of pleasure through my straining muscles.

And I couldn’t take my eyes off Larry. He was right in front of me, setting the pace. I stared at his pumping asscheeks and rippling leg muscles as he rode. I couldn’t help wanting to feel those strong muscles plunging h is long, hard cock into my pussy. To feel his firm, hot body straining to pleasure me as he shoved ever deeper into my yearning flesh, to feel his hard chest pressed against my tits.

Lost in my erotic daydream, I almost rode right past him when he pulled into a secluded park by the river. Here, I realized, was a chance for some relief from my sexual tension. I felt wild, like doing something I’d never done before, something sexy and dangerous. Larry stopped beneath a huge sycamore tree and got off his bike. The tree hid us from anyone passing on the road. Perfect!

He was taking a long pull from his water bottle as I leaned my bike against the tree and put my arms around him. He returned my embrace with an intensity that surprised me. His dick pressed against my stomach and began to grow hard as our lips met. Our tongues explored each other’s mouths urgently. Larry slid his hand smoothly beneath my jersey and gave my breast a firm squeeze. The touch of his hand made my pussy gush with anticipation. I rubbed my burning crotch against the growing bulge in his shorts.

As Larry’s hand moved down to my yearning cunt, a group of fellows rode up on their bikes. I moaned my displeasure, and Larry released me very reluctantly.

We both had one thing on our minds during the ride home. Larry picked the shortest route to the house. We even raced the last two miles. I’m sure the neighbors thought we’d gone insane. Larry and I threw our bikes on the lawn and sprinted into the house and up the stairs. I don’t even remember closing the front door.

Once in the cool of the bedroom, I wasted no time. My whole body seemed to be on fire. Larry lay back on the bed, still fully clothed. Seductively, I pulled up my jersey. Larry grinned as my breasts popped free, nipples taut with excitement. Then I pushed my shorts down my hips, pausing just above the dark thatch of hair covering my pussy. The bulge in Larry’s shorts grew noticeably when I finally exposed my cunt to his hungry eyes. Kicking my shorts into the corner, I jumped on the bed.

“Now let’s see what you’ve got,” I said playfully, tugging at his drawstring. While Larry pulled off his shirt, I went to work on the slinky shorts, pulling them down his hips. His cock sprang free and stood rock hard, just waiting for me. I sighed as I lowered my mouth over his shiny cockhead.

My tongue played lightly over Larry’s engorged prick head. He lifted his hips, urging my mouth further down his staff. But while my pussy ached with desire, I moved slowly, wanting to savor the moment.

An inch at a time, I let my husband’s cock slide into my mouth. I could feel every line and vein with my tongue and lips. Finally his cockhead rested in my throat, my nose nestled in his musky pubic hair. I was in heaven.

Long ago I mastered the art of deep throating. I really love the stuffed full feeling when his prick is buried in my throat. I sucked long and hard on his throbbing tool, surprising even myself with my fervor I couldn’t get enough of his cock. And Larry couldn’t get enough either. He fucked my face, his hips lifting all the way off the bed with each thrust. I caressed his heavy balls with one hand. And, on a whim, I put the other on his tight asscheeks. Running my finger lightly up and down his crack, I gradually worked it into his asshole. As he shoved his cock deep into my throat, I pushed my finger deep into his ass.

Larry’s balls tightened immediately. His cock began its familiar quiver, and I got ready for the flood of semen I knew was coming. Every muscle in Larry’s body tensed at once against the impending flood. He pushed upward so hard I almost had to release his cock. But I held on, and in a second hot come was rocketing down my throat.

Larry came harder than ever before. I gulped his molten love juice for what seemed like hours. Each time his cock spurted into my mouth, I sucked it hard, causing yet another little eruption. Finally, his balls empty, Larry slumped back on the bed.

That, however, was only the beginning of an evening devoted to sexual pleasure. Our first day of bicycling outdoors had so invigorated us both that we couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. It was as if we wanted to screw until we both dropped from exhaustion.

In no time Larry was hard again, and this second erection very quickly found its way inside my burning pussy. Hard and deep my husband rode me, his cock pumping like a piston in my clasping hole. He finished me doggy style, slamming his hard cock into my pussy from behind and making me wail with pleasure. When he came it was with such force that he knocked me flat on the bed. With Larry still pumping away, his cock squirting semen, I let out a long moan and came all over the place.

And we weren’t done yet! After a brief rest, I sucked my husband hard again and then mouthed him, riding him as I do my bicycle, with joyful enthusiasm, until we both climaxed with long, drawn out sighs of bliss.

I may be wrong, but I suspect that a lot of gals enjoy exercising on bicycles because of the sensual pleasure they derive from it. A beautiful sunny day, the feel of a saddle pressing up against your crotch, and the man you love looking so incredibly hot pedaling alongside you now that’s what I call foreplay!

Ms. S.O., Connecticut

For years my husband’s barbells and exercise machine were relegated to a dark, dusty corner of the basement. That began to change with the birth of our son and the chiding remark of a coworker to the effect that my bikini days were now gone forever. No way! I told myself. I started to view Jed’s Universal weight machine not as a menacing monstrosity of chrome and pulleys but as a fountain of youth. What I didn’t expect when I began my secret morning workouts in the basement was the titillating fringe benefit of the sheer erotic awakening I got from the exercise. Within a month, in addition to seeing and feeling the happy results of revived muscle tone and energy, I began to experience a rejuvenated sex drive. I was beginning to look and feel sexy again, and the transformation wasn’t lost on Jed.

Early one Saturday morning I ducked down to the basement for a leisurely workout hours, I thought, before Jed would wake. He’d returned the night before from a tiring three day business trip and had gone to bed right after a late supper. The house was quiet and peaceful. I quickly plunged myself into the solitary high of my workout.

I went through the basic routine I’d learned from an instructor at a downtown gym. Using a three free session promotion the gym offered, I’d learned the mysteries of the foreboding exercise machine. Now, in my basement and at my own pace, I quickly lost myself in the hypnotic pleasure of vigorous exercise and pushing my body to new limits.

Beneath my sweats my body tingled as I savored the sweet burn of muscles responding to the work. Fresh blood surged through me, stimulating and cleansing me as I concentrated, visualizing progress with every rep. The soreness that had plagued my introduction to heavy exercise had disappeared after those first downtown workouts, and now I felt a wondrous addiction to pushing my insatiable body through higher tests of stamina. The clank and clatter of the equipment meshed in a spiritual rhythm with my bodily movements, sweeping me into a now familiar trance of concentration.

My arms and legs were trembling by the time I was ready to do my butterflies one of my favorites, which stimulates and tones my breasts. Sweat darkened the front of my workout top and matted my long dark hair to my neck as I straddled the exercise bench. Then, as I’d been doing lately, I pulled off my top and tossed it aside. I shivered with faint erotic delight and loved the surge of electric tension that gripped the pit of my stomach and sparked a trail down between my legs as I cupped my smallish, firm breasts. My pink nipples were instantly hard, erect little points that I couldn’t resist tweaking. I moaned as a shudder went through me. The insides of my thighs contracted automatically and a wave of sizzling erotic arousal shot through me. Then, with a deep breath, I eased back on the bench and gripped the handles. I pulled, concentrating on the flexing of my chest and shoulders, as the oiled chain pulley was set into motion along with the weight it carried.

A blissful burning consumed my pec muscles as I performed measured reps. I closed my eyes and visualized my naked breasts rising and contracting. Blood rushed to fill the exercised area and my nipples tingled with a bursting pressure. Sensations flowed through me, and in the dreamy focus of my concentration I felt a tender kneading of my breasts that was surely a desperate fantasy.

Tremors jarred my body as persistent sensations reverberated into my dreamy consciousness. Suddenly the reality of the sensations couldn’t be denied. I opened my eyes and was startled to focus on Jed’s face smiling above me. His strong hands were gently massaging my breasts as he stood, straddling the bench, looking down at me with desire in his eyes I hadn’t seen since early in our marriage.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” he whispered, his deep voice caressing my sensitized flesh as much as his fingers.

My hands slipped off the handles and I threw my arms around his neck. As I pulled his face down to mine, his tongue snaked deep into my mouth as his body pressed down on me.

The caress of Jed’s hand slid from my breasts down to my hip. Our tongues entwined, he worked his hand inside the waistband of my sweats to touch the wet warmth of my pussy. His fingers tickled my pubic hair and I squirmed against his sensual touch. I groaned as I sucked on his devouring tongue and trembled violently when he slipped a finger just inside me. My vaginal muscles contracted and I swooned as he began to delicately massage my labia and hardening clitoris.

Meanwhile, I reached out and felt my way between the folds of his robe to touch the swelling hardness between his legs. His cock surged in my hand as I caressed him through his briefs. And it was only now that Jed’s mouth left mine. He lifted himself slightly, allowing me access to his rigid penis.

He closed his eyes in pleasure as I stroked his bulge. Sinking two fingers into my pussy, he began pumping them in and out, making me squeal as the pleasure overwhelmed me.

With his free hand Jed quickly tugged open his robe and squirmed around to offer me his cock. I responded by eagerly dipping my hand into his briefs and yanking it out.

As I stroked the length of his organ, I felt him tremble and heard his guttural moan as his penis surged in my hand. I tightened my fingers around the swollen shaft and started to pump as he kept thrusting his fingers into my vagina.

I squealed again and my body flushed as he began grazing my clit with his thumb. I raised myself from the bench as my inner muscles clamped around Jed’s fingers. Spasms erupted as my pussy flexed and relaxed at a quickening rate until an orgasm surged through me like a crashing wave of ecstasy.

I groaned as the pleasure rocked me and my hand fell away from my husband’s penis as I humped and writhed against his drilling fingers.

As I regained control of my breathing and movements, I grabbed again for his cock. Jed cooperated fully as I drew his penis toward my mouth while sitting up on the bench. I took him in my mouth and held his balls in my hands as I began to kiss and suck his lovely slab of flesh.

His hands immediately joined at the back of my head as he started pumping his thick penis in and out of my mouth. I stuffed my mouth with my husband’s meat, loving the way his cock filled my throat. His full balls rolled against my gently massaging fingers, and I knew his imminent orgasm would be a volcanic explosion.

I wasn’t disappointed, as suddenly his thick semen flowed down my throat, thrilling me all over again. His throaty moans rumbled as I held his erupting penis firmly in my mouth until I’d consumed the last droplets of his semen. Finally I pulled back and kissed the head of his cock. Jed caressed my head with his hands and smiled languidly at me.

“That was quite a workout,” he breathed.

I laughed as he helped me up off the bench. I started to reach for my top, but he stopped me. I knew then that this workout wasn’t over yet.

Jed had been a jock in college, but with marriage and career he had gradually drifted away from even recreational exercise. But with the secret of my exercising suddenly discovered, Jed decided I’d given him the inspiration to start training again. His only condition was that we train together. It turned out to be the best thing to happen to us.

Jed and I work out four times a week. We’ve added more equipment and virtually turned our basement into a gym. But our private gym, now equipped with a hot tub and several mirrors, has become something more. It all goes back to that Saturday morning when my workout ended with some of the best sex of our marriage, but now our workouts inevitably have become extended foreplay sessions. Perhaps it has more to do with the fact that during and after a good workout, our bodies are at a peak of stimulation and unbridled energy. Whatever, we’ve lapsed into a routine where our training sessions conclude with wanton, satisfying sex the likes of which we never experienced in our bedroom at the end of a stressful workday.

The other evening I got home late to find Jed already in the basement and well into his workout. I watched for several minutes without letting my presence be known, enjoying the sensual spectacle of my conditioned husband pushing his powerful body to its limits, my arousal swelling with every rep, every flex of his sweat glistening muscles.

Finally, when he completed a set of bench presses, I moved toward him, undressing along the way. Jed remained flat on the bench, watching me with obvious lust and anticipation. When I’d stripped down to my bra and panties, I leaned down and lightly ran my fingernails over his damp, naked chest. Working my hands slowly down his body, I finally began to roll his shorts over his hairy, wet, muscular thighs. Kneeling beside the bench, I watched as his cock thickened under my sultry, hungry gaze.

When I finally touched his cock, Jed reached over with a groan of pleasure and unhooked my bra. As I pumped his cock and fondled his balls, he massaged my breasts until I moved up over him. I straddled his chest, my ass at his face and my hands never leaving his cock and balls. When I bent down to lick the head of his penis, Jed started rubbing my ass through my panties. As I engulfed his cockhead with my mouth, I lifted my ass off his chest. Jed wasted no time pulling down my panties. I swooned as I felt his tongue flicking between my asscheeks as I gobbled up his cock as he teased my sensitive anus with the tip of his tongue. I shuddered as he sank two fingers into my soaking wet pussy and slipped his thumb up my ass.

My husband’s cock throbbed and ballooned into a massive erection as I sucked and licked him, the frenzy of my actions matching the wickedly wanton sensations his thumb was giving me. Incredible ecstasy overwhelmed me, speeding up the pace of my sucking as I wriggled my ass back against Jed’s penetrating thumb. Suddenly I couldn’t endure the pleasure another second! I was desperate to have my husband’s towering, wet cock inside me. As glorious as his anal play felt, as naughtily thrilling as it was, my cunt demanded the satisfaction of his manhood.

I rose up, clutching the thick base of his cock as I moved forward, lightly rubbing my cunt over his chest and stomach, gasping, panting. We uttered wistful moans when I rubbed his cockhead against my clit, but I could stand the tension no more and I impaled my pussy on his big cock.

I rode him furiously, bouncing up and down as my vagina greedily swallowed his whole length. I couldn’t keep from massaging his balls as my lust for him flooded my loins.

His hands busily rubbed my hips and thighs as we built our movements into a matching fast paced rhythm. When he suddenly dipped a finger in my anus again, I shrieked and fell on top of him.

My vagina contracted as one orgasm melted into another one. And in the midst of my wondrous orgasms, Jed reached around with his free hand and tickled my clit with his fingers. Seconds later I experienced another bone jarring orgasm. I howled and thrashed on the cock imbedded in me.

In a moment of pure erotic anticipation, a low, guttural growl rumbled in Jed’s throat. His cock leaped inside me and he ejaculated into my depths with sheer brutal force. His back arched off the bench, his muscles rippled and he shuddered, sending what seemed an ocean of semen into me. My cunt overflowed with his seed and it spilled back out even as Jed kept pumping into me.

When at last his orgasm subsided, Jed slumped under me. He sounded a slow, low groan of satisfaction as I gingerly dismounted.

I was wobbly as I turned and knelt down beside the bench. I rested my head on my husband’s chest and absently rubbed my hand over his belly, gliding in ever widening circles over his taut, glistening flesh. His cock, shiny with our fluids, twitched in the air, still semi erect and beckoning.

I started kissing his chest and traveled downward until I was licking and nibbling at the salty sweet slickness coating his cock. Jed lazily ran his fingers through my hair and murmured wonderful words of love and happiness that I never get tired of hearing.

Much later, after dinner, Jed and I went back down to our basement gym. As I went through a light, brisk workout, Jed stripped and climbed into the hot tub to watch. As always, he offered encouragement when I pushed out a few quick reps. When I’d finished, there was the familiar exhilarating burst of energy pulsing through me. It was a feeling of accomplishment and feeling good about myself, and much more. My body teemed with power, an animal like prowess where my muscular exhaustion seemed to feed an inner surge.

I stood beside the hot tub in front of my proud husband and stripped off my sweats. A sheen of healthy sweat covered my toned up flesh. With feline grace and quiet confidence, I paraded around the tub, savoring Jed’s appreciative gaze, before I stepped into the warm water.

I cuddled against Jed as the hot, flowing water soothed my body. As we embraced, I could feel the smooth hardness of his cock, and my erotic excitement blossomed. Jed turned to me in the weightless ease of the water, and I thrilled to the feel of his engorged cockhead against my pubis. He slipped his hands beneath my buttocks and I wrapped my arms around his neck. We kissed in a lingering, savoring embrace, delighting ourselves with the other’s robust vitality and the pent up power coiled inside us. We were mating panthers in our prime, eager to spend our overflowing energy and passion. And effortlessly, suddenly, Jed had fitted my pussy against the tip of his cock. He entered me with a smooth, slow stroke, letting us both feel it every inch of the way.

I opened myself up to him and when his cock was totally imbedded, my vaginal muscles squeezed his shaft. We groaned until my trembling pussy lost its grip and Jed began to pump in and out. The water slapped between us and my breasts bobbed on the surface as I leaned my head back on the tub’s edge and spread my legs wide. I lowered one hand between us to finger my clit as we fucked harder and harder. With my other hand I reached down under myself and between his legs to hold Jed’s balls, which were bobbing with growing frenzy.

We came together, the warm rush of his semen flooding my pussy just as my nectar gushed out to meet it. We fed each other our mutual vitality as we experienced the supreme thrill of our strength momentarily vanishing into each other.

And for precious quiet moments, Jed and I rested in each other’s arms in the rejuvenating water, relishing the sensations of healthy exhaustion, already feeling a magical replenishing of our insatiable desire and need for each other.

It happens every time we exercise, because ultimately Jed and I are exercising our love muscles. And we certainly never get tired of those workouts!

With burnout blazing in my eyes and dazed from another Saturday spent doing catch up work, I sat in my posh office thirty stories above the old Windy City working and looked out the window. Practically staring me in the face was a large male bulge. I did a double take. The mound of denim covered male flesh and muscular legs were all I could see of the figure that stood on a scaffold hanging from the top of the building. I watched the half figure stretch as the rest of him cleaned the windows. I was intrigued by the seeming nonchalance that accompanied doing such a dangerous job. I was also curious about the strong, solid figure practically inches from me yet a world apart from me. I began daydreaming, and before I realized it, the scaffolding was lowered and there, staring straight at me, was a handsome sandy haired man. He had keen blue green eyes and a thick mustache that matched his lion’s mane of hair.

He looked at me, a bit surprised, and I, usually the epitome of sang froid, was startled. I felt like a child caught doing something she shouldn’t. I bit my lip. My mind said, “turn away,” but my eyes lingered on the handsome workman. Suddenly he smiled at me. Big, shiny white teeth flashed beneath his mustache, and I felt my breathing speed up. His chest formed a large, muscular V shape as he reached to clean the top of the window. His massive shoulders, trim waist and firm thighs kept my eyes riveted on him. It had been such a long time since I’d had a man. A real man. I longed for something crazy. Something wild. But what? Fuck the window washer? I was astonished that the thought had even occurred to me. Yet there was something there. I had to talk to him.

On impulse, I stood up, walked over and opened the window next to the one he was working on. Fresh, cold air flooded my eyes and nose as I propped my hip up on the windowsill and sat watching him work as if I did this sort of thing every day. I knew he could see me, though he offered me no acknowledgement.

“How do you do it?” I asked finally. He turned and looked at me, his head tilted slightly, his eyes direct. “Do it?” he asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Yes I mean, how do you go up there? So calmly. So matter of fact. Doesn’t it ever frighten you?” As soon as the question was out, I felt like a fool.

“Frighten me? No. I love it. There’s nothing in the world like being up high. Don’t you feel the exhilaration of being up here right this minute? The air rushing around you. The freedom of the space. Nothing between you and the clouds. It’s pure freedom,” he said.

“Yes, well, you’re very articulate.”

“Articulate for a window washer, you mean,” he said, smiling.

“No, I meant passionate, you’re very, very ” He was right.

“It’s all right. No offense taken. I’ve gotten used to it. People always presume that a working man isn’t educated,” he said and turned back to his work. I apologized and asked him whether I might buy him a drink later. He thanked me but refused. He finished the window, organized his things and prepared to move the scaffold. But then he turned and said to me, “Instead of that drink I’ll bet you’ve never been to the roof of this building. ”

I didn’t know whether or not this was a come on. It seemed rather strange at first. I felt a little frightened. Intimidated. My hesitation showed.

“Forget it,” he said.

“No. I haven’t. I mean, I will.” That evening we met on the forty eighth floor by the door that said, “No Admittance.”

Frank led me up the stairs to the rooftop. The sinking sun was giving off its final glow, and the strings of lights leading toward Lake Michigan were beginning to come on. He took my hand and led me around the roof. He pointed out different sites and knew the elevation of every building and promontory in sight. We stood on the edge of the roof looking out over the city, with nothing but a low parapet separating us from the 500 foot drop to the pavement below.

I wasn’t afraid, exactly, but I was a bit nervous, and even though we had stopped walking, I continued to hold his hand. A cold wind began to blow, and we instinctively moved closer to one another. Frank began talking about his life. He was a graduate of forestry school. He was very into the outdoors, especially mountain climbing he was working on a book about mountain trails. Window washing paid quite well and gave him the freedom to pursue his personal goals.

His deep, serene voice calmed my nerves, and I found myself getting lost in the sound of it. And his eyes. I was taken by his enthusiasm. I leaned toward him and kissed him. It caught him somewhat off guard, but he recovered quickly enough to part my lips with his tongue and explore my mouth. He pulled me to him firmly. I clasped him, feeling the warmth of his body against me. He reached around and grabbed my ass, pulling my skirt up so that he could feel the flesh underneath. I responded by grinding my crotch against his growing bulge. As I leaned toward him, I realized that we were inches from the edge, and now that it was practically dark, it was hard to see where the parapet was.

I began to step back, and he pulled me to him even more tightly. His skillful hand worked its way into my panties and found my wet opening. I looked out at the lights in the darkness, and my heart raced as he continued to massage my sex. Our mouths had been locked together, but now his tongue began to roam down my neck. He kissed and nibbled and drew a warm, wet line down to my breasts, all the time continuing his stroking of my pussy. He undid my blouse and took one of my breasts in his mouth, tugging my nipple slightly and causing it to become erect. Still he worked his way lower, licking at my belly button and nuzzling my stomach.

I gripped his strong shoulders as he sat down on the parapet and his hands disappeared beneath my skirt. His hands gripped my waist as his tongue entered my vagina. I stepped out of my panties, throwing them to the wind as he spread my legs and plunged deeper and deeper into my hot cunt. I began rocking back and forth, my head swaying, as his tongue rolled around my clitoris. I could feel the scratchy hairs of his mustache brushing against my sensitive labia. My stomach was churning with excitement.

I threw my head back and repeatedly offered my pussy to his face. I realized that we were practically teetering on the edge of a fifty story building. I looked over Frank’s shoulders to the street below and grabbed hold of him for dear life.

At that moment, with this handsome man’s tongue far up my pussy, the cold autumn wind of Chicago swirling around my head and the minuscule figures scurrying in the glow of light in the streets below, I came, a soulful outpouring of pent up desire, and Frank’s body pressed forward as the force of my orgasm triggered a shudder that for a split second had us both unsteady.

Then deep relaxation steadied my body and Frank stood up. I could see that he was charged and needed to release his own fired up energy. I was still floating on the wings of my orgasm when Frank pulled out his cock and aimed it at my well lubricated pussy. I can’t remember whether I had ever been fucked standing up before this, and I felt at somewhat of a disadvantage, but Frank knew what he was doing. He pumped his hot tool into me with all the power of a well oiled machine. He bore into me repeatedly with all his might yet he had a reserve of strength when his own geyser shot. I could feel his hot come warm my insides as a cold wind swept across my cheeks. As this strong, handsome man filled me, he tilted my head up and nodded for me to see the beauty of the rising stars.

Frank continued to teach me the joys of sky high sex. Being a window washer, Frank had access to what seemed like every skyscraper in the city. The first time I reciprocated the heightened pleasure Frank gave me, he took me to an escape nook that was more than a hundred stories up in one of the tallest buildings in Chicago. It took my breath away. The combination of the claustrophobic little space, meant only to hook scaffolding on, and the aerial view made me dizzy.

I sat on the shallow ledge and unzipped Frank’s pants. I freed his already erect cock and put it in my mouth. As I worked his shaft over, savoring the taste of his skin, I forgot for a moment where we were. Frank sure has a thick one, and it was quite a challenge to get it all in my mouth. I stretched my lips to accommodate its girth yet it had a beautiful, strong curve that made it feel as though it were made to fit inside my mouth. As I took more of his cock in my mouth, I could feel the head hit against the back of my throat. I began to bob up and down on his throbbing cock and in the process leaned too far back, losing my balance. It was as close as I have ever come to falling. The scare was very sobering and focused my senses in an acute way. Frank saw what had happened, but all the time he had a hold of me. If he hadn’t given me a little tug at just the right moment, I might have been all over the sidewalk a second later.

The experience shook me up, but it had no effect on Frank’s cock. If anything, it got harder. I grabbed Frank’s ass with both hands and held on for dear life. Frank took hold of my head and began to fuck my face steadily. As thrust followed thrust, I could feel my back rocking into thin air. I gripped his tight buttocks and abandoned myself to his firm prick. I could feel the big cherry knob push against my throat, and I relaxed as his shaft went in deep.

Clutching his ass with all my might, I gave myself up to the moment, bobbing wildly on his exploding cock. Frank had a strong hold on my neck and shoulders, and I could feel myself rocking on the edge of the wall as hot come poured down my throat. Though there had been still a few moments of fear, when he fucked me afterward, I was totally overwhelmed by the experience. Never had sex given me such release. I cared for nothing except reaching new heights with this man literally and physically.

It wasn’t until the following spring that I was able to appreciate Frank as the total lovable sexual being he is. It was in spring that he first took me up a mountain trail in the Rockies. Frank knew the trails as well as the way to my total pleasure. We backpacked for a week, traversing the cliffs and going a bit higher each day. The air got thinner the higher we went. We made love several times in clearings, alongside streams, in mountain passes always with a view.

We reached an altitude of over 12,000 feet. The air was cold, but the sun was warm. Frank led me to a point, a large rock that jutted out over the land below. It was a rather precarious climb to the cliff, and as bits of earth gave way underfoot, I felt my heart race. We stood overlooking an incredibly sheer drop. The view below was like an aerial photograph. The rock on which we stood was slightly inclined and no bigger than a few square feet. I stayed as close as I could to the wall behind us, from which we had just dropped, enjoying the view but still a bit intimidated. Frank had no qualms. He strutted around the rock as though he owned it, then stood on the edge, peering over at the drop below.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked.

I agreed, but he sensed my slight fear, and advised me to sit down. I took his advice, sat on the rock and looked up at the snowcap in the distance. Frank sat beside me. He unzipped my parka, unbuttoned my shirt and exposed my breasts to the cold mountain air. His face nuzzled my bosom as I sat back and enjoyed a freedom I had never known. As he toyed with my nipples I reached between his legs and released his hot cock. I stroked his thickening maleness. A shiver went down my spine as we readjusted our positions, and Frank bit and chewed at the buttons of my jeans, then tugged them down with his mouth. As my ass came into contact with the cold rock beneath me, Frank’s tongue lunged into my cunt with precision and timing.

Finding my little knob, Frank’s tongue assaulted me with wet lashes of electricity. I felt my first orgasm building as I looked up at the heavens, which were nearly close enough to touch. There, crouched on all fours between my legs, lapping at my sex, was the large sexy grizzly bear of a man I loved so much.

Earth and heaven became one that day as I came like never before. It was such a glorious experience to look up at the peaks and feel the cold wind whipping my bare skin while the heat of hot sex ran through me.

My hot, wet cunt, dripping with my orgasm, was a welcome haven for Frank’s thick, strong cock. There, in our little aerie, Frank entered me. His beautiful, red knobbed cock disappeared between my lips. His curvy, rigid shaft, now well adjusted to my cunt, knew my wet sex path as well as he knew his mountain trails.

I lay back, enjoying the fuck of a lifetime, as overhead I spied an eagle making a graceful circle in the sky. Frank’s cock filled my body as the scene filled my mind. Bits of earth and rock tumbled over the precipice as our mountain rocking fuck continued. I wrapped my legs around Frank as he impaled me on that rock. We fucked for minutes, maybe hours, I wouldn’t know. . . . I do know that we captured a piece of orgasmic eternity that wonderful day.

I could see the strain in Frank’s face as he looked up at the heavens, trying to prolong the ecstasy as long as possible. I felt his body stiffen as his deep, controlled love strokes quickened and became hard, pounding bolts of energy. My cunt began to throb in response to this fabulously furious fuck, and again, I felt an orgasm rush through my body. Frank shot like an erupting volcano, his hot juice heating my insides as we clutched each other frantically on the very edge of paradise, feeling danger and blinding ecstasy at once.

It’s been two years since we first met, and Frank and I are still very much together. Our lovemaking has not slowed down a bit it has continued to evolve spiraling ever upward toward brand new adventures, soaring new heights. We love our sky high sex it’s a fantastic world of sensuality that we have invented for ourselves. Where might the next peak be? Only our imaginations know.

I love my sex wet. I love the feel of moisture dripping off my breasts as a man’s hard cock penetrates me, or the moist pleasure of sucking on a good hard erection as water splashes on my body. I have found there is no greater joy than the pleasures of wet sex. Whether it is in a long, luxurious bath that my vagina is filled with pleasure or a simple shower, I need the nourishing elements of water in my day in order to be truly satisfied.

Ever since I was young, I have found water stimulating. I grew up by the ocean and learned to swim at a very early age. I lived in a swimsuit from May until September, never able to get enough of the feel of water splashing around my body. And my figure in a string bikini is enough to cause a bit of a scene. I am a petite blonde with a slim waist. Men ogle me, I guess, because my breasts are bigger than the rest of me. I long ago got over being uncomfortable about it. In fact, I go topless whenever I can. That is exactly what I was doing when I first met my husband, Peter. I was vacationing in the islands after a rather hectic holiday season. I’m a buyer for a large department store, and I really needed to get away, so I rented a bungalow on a small island. The area was quite obscure, and the bungalow was right on the water. I spent my days happily lingering in the sun and wandering along the beach. I found a remote cove not far from my bungalow where I could lie on the sand and let the ocean spray across my naked breasts as I soaked up the rays.

I lay there one afternoon, watching the tide work its way in. The sun was baking my body, and yet the offshore breeze kept me cool. I closed my eyes and lay still, feeling extremely relaxed, and then I felt someone approaching. I looked up and saw Peter’s long, lean frame towering above me. He stared openly at my bare breasts, and to judge from the look of his swimsuit, I was having quite an effect on him. The nylon was stretching out of shape as his bulge grew before my eyes.

The mist of the ocean tickled my legs, and my skin felt warm and wet. Staring at this handsome man, I felt another kind of moisture begin to stir between my loins. Even the sound of the waves crashing seemed to stimulate my libido. I’m not normally so forward, but I felt so relaxed, I couldn’t help but invite him to join me on the sand. He was so attractive, standing there with his curly, sandy hair clinging to the nape of his neck. “It’s quite wonderful to feel the spray,” he whispered.

He didn’t hesitate but immediately dropped down beside me. I reached out and pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, and he took my hand. He held it for a minute and then reached over and kissed me. I felt his hardness through his suit, and it pushed against my leg as he leaned toward me. My breasts were dripping with salt water, and he began to work his way down to them, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking slowly on it.

I shimmied out of my bikini bottom and spread my legs so I could feel the spray of the waves tickle my labia. The tide was coming in closer, and the water was creeping up to our feet. Peter pulled off his swimsuit, and his cock sprang out. It was a wonderful thing, quite long and a beautiful tawny color. The head peeked out from beneath its little sheath like a plum, and I longed to feel him spread me open inside.

He placed his body right on top of mine and kissed me. His skin was damp, and it clung to mine. Peter’s hands sought all my soft places, and I ground my hips against him. Taking his cock in his hand, he thrust his hard tool inside me as the waves crashed about us. The constant shower of water across my arms and legs had me reeling with excitement as this gorgeous Norseman rocked his godlike figure in the depths of my pussy. His cock swam magically inside me, and my pussy responded like the sea welcoming him. He was my sailor, I his vessel. We rocked together again and again, his hard cock deep inside my pussy, my hair soaked and matted against the sand, my feet submerged as my body shivered with delight.

As the water splashed against my legs and poured back in delightful rivulets, I felt my climax approaching. The water was cool against my skin, but inside I was an inferno. Exploding in joyous release, I bathed this man’s cock with orgasmic juices. Peter accelerated his thrusts, continuing his mission of lust, and met me stroke for stroke as I came wildly wonderfully wet. I listened to the water lap at the shore and steadied myself, eager to give and receive more pleasure.

My blond god from the sea pumped furiously, working toward his own orgasm, as I felt the water come closer and closer to us. His cock seemed to get even thicker as he bit down on my shoulder and exploded. I felt his hot come splash inside me and shivered with another tiny burst of pleasure that radiated throughout my body.

Peter and I shared a glorious week enjoying wet pleasures. We left the island as both friends and lovers. We continued to date, and each time we had a chance to engage in wet sex, we did. It’s become a crucially important part of our relationship.

Peter arranged for us to have the private use of a spa one evening recently, and the result was a marathon evening of sexual pleasure. We put on white terry cloth robes and found our way into the sauna. The heat was pleasant, and the sweat began to drip down my breasts. Peter adores my breasts, and the dripping saltiness offers him another chance to enjoy them with his tongue. I reached down and found his cock hardening at my touch. Our bodies were slick, and it was easy to massage his erection in my hand. My pussy was soaked, and I was dying to have Peter give it some attention. He sensed this and nibbled his way down my belly and began eating me in earnest. I let my head fall back and enjoyed his tongue work. The attention was beginning to stir some real excitement inside my loins, and the heat was making me dizzy. I lay back on the bench, and Peter went to work, to wonderful effect. My gasping, sweat drenched body churned out an orgasm that was happily lapped up. I felt the hot sting of sweat between my legs and the pores all over my body opened up as my climax took over.

Peter held my ass in his hands as his tongue probed deep inside me to satisfy my need. I felt his cock stiffen even more as I came. Yet it was not to be mine quite yet. Aware of our lightheadedness, Peter reached out and helped me up. I wobbled out of the sauna, and we made our way to the showers.

The shower was a magnificent black and white tile affair with a dozen nozzles pointing into the center of the room. We turned them all on and stood in the middle of a virtual waterfall. It was heaven to feel the warm, wet moistness clean away the sweat from the sauna. Peter’s cock stood out, rigid, and I longed to taste it, to have it slide down my throat.

I knelt and took him in my mouth. Water splashed in my face and trickled down my neck as I felt his shaft slide across my tongue. I tickled the head, getting underneath the sheath, which always drives him crazy. He sighed as I ran my tongue inside the little cover. I grasped his hips, he moved forward and pushed his way down my throat. I relaxed and felt his knob ease into me as the spray covered me from every angle.

Water was gathering in every crack and crevice as Peter continued fucking my throat. My pussy was getting stirred up again by the water and the feel of this tall, lean man feeding me his glorious hard cock. The constant barrage of water caused my skin to tingle. My insides were steaming up, and I could taste Peter’s salty love juice dripping from his cockhead.

My warm, wet heaven was showered with my man’s semen as he let loose a load in my mouth. I drank his steamy come, and my body thrilled to the feeling of the luscious hot water pelting me. I felt it in my eyes and ears and running down my neck, and imagined that it was the come running down my throat. I could see Peter slide back his hair as his cock relaxed slightly in my mouth. All this pleasure and our rainstorm caused a minor explosion within me, and I gripped his knees to prevent myself from falling on my ass.

Peter slowly eased himself down, and we kissed long and hard, splashing around in the pools of water on the tiles. We clung together, licking each other like loving pups. Soon Peter was hard again and entering me. I barely felt the hardness of the floor as we fucked up a storm. Thrusting and parrying until we both were wild with passion again, his long, hard cock filled me up with renewed vigor. I felt my climax build while the water rushed down in torrents. I came, howling savagely. My eyes and mouth were open to receive water, and Peter’s cock was deep inside me, filling me up. His wet balls slapped against me, making a whooshing sound with every stroke. My body was shivering. We were sated as we clung together, savoring this adventure.

Sometimes wonderful opportunities arise from Peter’s business trips. He’s a consultant for a law firm. He makes good money and consequently travels a great deal. Whenever possible, I accompany him on his trips and we seek out unusual settings to indulge in wet sex. We have made sweet love in many mountain streams and lakes. The first thing I do when I check into a hotel is inspect the bath and enjoy a sex filled shower.

Our first anniversary marked a high water mark even for us. Peter surprised me with a most extravagant gift. He had our master bedroom outfitted with the most luxurious bath I had ever seen. The tub is a full seven feet long and made of marble. It has jet sprays on three sides, and the temperature can be controlled easily from a hidden panel. The tile work is in shades of pink, gray and black. There is a long bench for dressing and other activities and a commode and bidet.

I was in heaven the first time we were able to use it, and I lost no time shedding my clothes and filling the tub. I set the water at a warm seventy eight degrees and let the sprays tickle my legs and tummy. Peter stood over me, naked, enjoying my cooing and purring. I spread my legs and let the spray shoot in and around me. Peter massaged his cock as he savored the sight of his wanton wife being masturbated by the spray.

The water began to fill the tub, and I gave Peter quite a show. I soaped up my breasts and squeezed them playfully for him. Peter attached a nozzle to the faucet and sprayed himself and then climbed in with me. He stood above me showering me with the hose attachment. I lifted my legs and accepted the cascading water with glee. His penis was engorged, and the veins popped out along the sides, making my mouth water. I loved watching him slide his hand down the length of his shaft. Sitting up, I soaped his cock a bit, and he let me take over the action. I sat ass deep in warm, soapy water and continued working his stiff dick. My pussy was absolutely lit with passion, and Peter knew I was ready for a solid, wet fuck.

The back of the tub curves perfectly. I leaned against the slick marble and spread my legs, ready to receive him. He lowered himself into me, his cock finding its way into my wet and willing pussy. My hips bucked, splashing water along the sides of the tub, and I gasped as Peter’s cock went steadily all the way inside me. I pushed the plug aside with my toe so that the water wouldn’t overflow. The jets kept up their action, tantalizing my body with wet work. My pussy was soaked, and our coupling made an outrageous noise as we smacked together.

This glorious fuck had me screaming with pleasure as I realized my favorite wet dream: the hard, thick stalk of a man shoved way up inside me as I lie soaked to the tits in delicious, hot wetness. We pumped and pumped for the longest time. Finally I could take no more and came. My back arched and Peter held onto me to give me a final pummel of love with his manhood. He ejaculated, sending a hot stream of cream inside me. His silky sperm shot through all the water and singed my insides like fire.

We crept reluctantly from the tub and wrapped ourselves in big, fluffy terry cloth towels. Smiling, Peter eyed the bench behind me, his cock not yet soft: my wonderful, insatiable lover.

We have had many wild, wonderful bathing times in our new home. I recommend the pleasures of wet sex to anyone who needs something extra.

I heard her long before I saw her and the sound was of the most ravishing cello music I could ever imagine. It was a sizzling summer night in New York City, and I d just moved to a fifth floor walk up apartment in Greenwich Village. It was a small and more or less furnished place, and after I lugged my suitcases up the five flights of stairs I stripped my clothes off and lay down on the lumpy bed.

I d been on the bus all night from the little town in South Carolina where I d been studying music at the local college, and I was exhausted. After saving up enough money to come to New York for a couple of months, I planned to attend some concerts and maybe take a few special classes on the flute the instrument I d been studying for ten years. As I lay there, dripping with perspiration on that sultry July day, a torrid breeze blew my wisp of a curtain open and shut again, like a waving hand beckoning to me. Suddenly I caught a glimpse of her, really only a few feet away from me, in a room a lot like mine in the building across the narrow airshaft.

She was nude, sitting straight backed on a stool, her long ebony hair streaming down her back, her slender white legs open and straddling a rich brown cello. Her full red lips were pursed almost in pain as she concentrated on the exquisite music she was stroking from her instrument. As she swayed with the rhythm of Bach, her large full breasts swayed too, brushing against the smoothly polished neck of the instrument.

She was the most stunningly beautiful woman I d ever seen. She emitted the passionate sexual energy of a devil, but she played like an angel with an almost ethereal beauty.

Without really thinking, I climbed off the bed and took my flute from its case. I pulled the tattered curtain back so there was nothing between us but the sweltering air of summer. Sitting cross legged on the bed, I started to accompany her, improvising on the flute. I was as naked as she was.

A half smile curved her sensuous lips for a few moments, even with her eyes still closed in concentration, as though the new music she heard was part of her fancy. But then her eyes snapped open and met mine with a look of shock. She stopped playing for just a moment, a moment that I filled with teasing, playful flute music, and then she gripped her bow in her slender white hand and dragged it slowly and sensuously across the strings of her cello, creating music that provided counterpoint to my flute and totally melted my heart. As we played, teasing each other with the music, reaching out across the electrified summer air between us, her white skin began to flush, her nipples swelled, and my cock began to surge with desire.

Our music reached a climax. As I laid my flute down, she moved her cello aside to lean it against the wall, and our eyes locked in a gentle embrace. She seemed totally spent, bathed in perspiration, which glistened as it ran in sensuous little rivers down her creamy skin. Her legs were wide open and her pussy, framed in glossy black hair glowing with slick sweat, was pink and wet. She smiled at me, a smile I thought would singe my soul.

The sensation was as though I were awake and dreaming at the same time. Time melted, stretched and disappeared. The music we had made together echoed down the passages of my mind, its low notes seeming to tingle through my swollen cock and balls, the high notes reverberating through my mind and beckoning me to exultant sensual pleasure.

Still wearing that enigmatic smile that appeared warm and cool at the same time, she began to stroke her full creamy breasts with her long delicate fingers, tracing large circles around the gently swaying fullness of each vanilla mound, circles that grew smaller and smaller as her fingertips closed in on her exquisite nipples. They were deep pink, as large as half dollars, and puffed up like ripe plums.

She gasped as her fingertips brushed against her nipples, and she paused to pinch them, tease them, play with them almost as if she were fingering the strings of her glorious cello. I touched my own nipples, which though tinier than hers were erect too and so sensitive now that sexual electricity rippled out from my two nubs to my engorged cock, which was standing high in the feverish air of that sweltering summer day. As her fingers trailed their way down toward her pussy, I let my own hands move down to tease and stroke my cock. Her legs opened even wider as her hands found the puffy pink button of her clitoris. She stroked it, teased it, played with it as she had her nipples.

Faster and faster I stroked my inflamed cock, in rhythm to her caresses. As she started to come she reached one hand up to grip her right nipple tightly, tugging on it, crying out in passionate release, her legs tightening on her stroking hand, her back arching, thrusting her sweating tits up and out.

I came too, the passionate surge seeming to start down in my legs and raging up to erupt in a blazing silver jet of glorious released energy. Her blue eyes stared passionately at the explosion of my hot juices as they spurted into the feverish summer air. I leaned back against the wall, bathed in sweat, feeling as though my bones had been turned to warm liquid.

For several minutes we sat there gazing into each other s eyes, me on my lumpy bed, her on the stool on which she d sat to play her cello. Then with a graceful gesture, she reached up to pull the curtain closed. For a few minutes after that, as I lay back on my bed, totally spent, I could hear her again, like a slowly fading dream, the melancholy strains of her cello playing, an improvisation that spoke of sensuality and sadness.

Although I listened, no more music came from the apartment across the narrow airshaft for the next couple weeks. I did not see the woman who had shaken me to my soul, who had planted seeds of glorious sexual fantasy in my imagination.

I attended concerts, went to flute classes with a Bulgarian flute master I had always dreamed of meeting, and wandered through the city. The strains of passionate and ghostlike cello music followed me wherever I went, drowning out the stir and rattle of cacophonous Manhattan.

Then in the shadowy hours of the early morning, as I slept fitfully, I was awoken by a single deep note played on a nearby cello. There was a silence for a long while after that, and as I strained to hear, I sat up in the bed and pulled the curtain back, and there she was.

She had put the cello aside and she was nude again, her waist length black hair billowing down to cover her left breast. Her right breast was creamy white in the golden light of several burning candles. She beckoned me, and my heart thudded in my chest as my cock stirred with passionate life.

My name is Celia, she called out. Come to the roof and down to my floor. I ll leave my door open.

Yes, I said, my voice almost a whisper. Yes, yes, yes. I pulled on a pair of jeans and, shoeless and shirtless, left my apartment and climbed the narrow steps that led to the roof of my building. It was cool up there, with a breeze from the Hudson River. The sky was turning a silvery gray with the coming dawn. The city was slowly waking up. It was great to be alive.

I stepped over the low wall that separated our buildings on the roof level and went through the door and down the steps to her floor. There, one door was ajar. I opened it and entered.

I was in a room I hadn t seen through the window, a bedroom with a large bed, and on it lay Celia, her long black hair spread on a pillow like a dark cloud. Music was playing on a high quality stereo with two huge sets of speakers, one on each side of the bed. She smiled and gestured for me to join her on the bed.

We were on an island of exotic sound. I slipped out of my jeans, my cock springing free, already hard and assertive, standing high in the morning s cool air. The music booming out of the stereo was a group I didn t recognize melodic rock that was both sensuous and soothing. Her taste in music was obviously broader than mine. But the sound was gorgeous, with deep reverberating base tones, treble notes I could feel penetrating my body and a rhythm that met my heartbeat and caused it to race.

The level of music that engulfed us was such that we couldn t talk, but words weren t necessary. I leaned over to kiss her, a long, slow kiss that started almost chastely and then grew into a deep, soul tickling tongue game, all licking, nibbling and sucking.

As our lips met, Celia s large firm breasts pushed up against my chest. They felt soft and hot. She arched her back, swaying her tits back and forth against my body to the beat of the music so that I could feel her already swollen nipples stroking my skin, teasing my own nipples.

Slowly I lowered my body onto hers, my spear hard erection nestling in the downy soft fluff of her pubic bush. Her legs parted a little and the head of my cock, as rigid and insistent as a small fist, pushed against the fiery hot wetness of her slick coral pink pussy.

Yes, yes, she cried, her lips pressed against my ear so I could hear her over the demanding, challenging beat of the music that seemed to vibrate through every cell of my body and echo through my brain. Fuck me, fuck me, she pleaded, and she suddenly opened her legs wide, like a flower in summer, gripped my ass with her long, slender fingers and pulled me deep into her just as the music boomed.

I fought the urge to come immediately. The music had fallen back to a teasing rhythm, softer, inviting us to slow down to make the most of the melodious path to bliss we d embarked on. We were playing the opening chords of intense passion and I wanted to put off the thundering crescendo for a little while longer.

Apparently, Celia did too, for now she lay back on the bed and relaxed, reaching up to gently caress my chest with the tips of her cool fingers, and I did the same to her upswelling mounds of creamy white. I barely touched them, my fingers whispering in time to the delicate rhythm of the music playing now, electric saxophone and haunting far off violins that sounded like the voices of sensuous angels.

Her snug, slick pussy gripped at my throbbing cock in time to the pulsating music that enclosed us, the beat slowly increasing in intensity. As I thrust deeper and faster, her gasps and cries mingled with my own and rose above the volume of the music.

My hands gripped her large, firm breasts so that her puffed nipples rubbed against my palms. Her nails were short, as all string musicians must be, but they were sharp, and as I fucked and massaged her white mounds she raked her nails across my chest. Each time she made contact with my nipples she gave them a blazing sensation of the most luscious pain and pleasure imaginable. I could feel each electrifying jolt across my super sensitive nipples and all the way through my body, blossoming in my deeply buried cock. I groaned with ecstasy.

Celia s hips rose to meet my hard thrusts as the music and our own hot passion drove us closer to orgasm. She screamed, an electrifying saber of sound that cut across the beat and rhythm of the song. The hungry ardor in her voice, the escalating spasms of her fiery pussy, told me she was coming. I had a hunch hers would be the orgasm to end all orgasms.

I, too, was urged on by the melodious roar and rumble of the music. I drove deeper into her, seeking the very center of her being as her pussy gripped my shaft like a powerful fist, taking my juice, milking out every drop as I wailed in magnificent release.

I collapsed onto her body, her firm but soft tits pushing up against my sweat slicked chest. The music seemed to fit our mood, turning now to some sort of New Age melody with delicate bells and the wisps of faraway electronic strings. With my cock still nestled in her, my mouth on the puffed nipple of one generous breast, I fell asleep.

In molten gold rays the afternoon sun streaming through the window woke me, caressing my naked body. Celia had stolen away as I slept, but as I opened my eyes I realized that the dream I d been having of celestial cello melodies was no dream at all. She sat only a few feet from me, again stroking the rich, reverberating strings, her long slender legs wide open to accommodate the glowing brown instrument. She wore nothing but an enigmatic smile.

As I had been that first time, I was immediately moved by her naked splendor. It was another sultry day and her body was glistening with perspiration, the sunlight flushing her skin with a warm radiance. The way her large breasts swayed as she stroked the strings of her cello was the most sensual thing I had ever seen, and my cock rose high and hard in the warm caress of the golden sunlight.

Over the deep notes of the cello, I barely heard her say, You start, and I ll take you the last little way. I knew what she meant, and I slowly started to run my fingertips over the rigid length of my swollen cock. I reached down to my balls and below them, to that spot that drives me crazy, and stroked it as the cello s low notes tingled through my cock.

We played with each other, with Celia meeting my rhythm as I caressed and stroked my erection. It was almost as if we were playing a duet, Celia on her cello, me on my cock.

Tell me, she said, tell me when you re almost there.

Now, I cried, now. The sound of her voice, a kind of music in itself, brought me to the edge.

With a graceful gesture, she put the cello aside. Although the music disappeared in the voluptuous air, I could still hear it in my imagination as she knelt on the bed next to me and leaned down to take my cock in her mouth. Her long black hair tented down over me, caressing my sweat slicked skin like a million tiny fingers.

Her lips were soft and as warm as summer clouds while she kissed the throbbing head of m cock, then licked it sensuously. I was crying out in the most total pleasure I d ever known, the strains of her magic cello still echoing in my ears, as she slowly lowered her head to take my shaft all the way.

Her fingers found my begging nipples and teased them as she sucked, taking my whole cock with each soft, challenging stroke of her hot mouth.

She moaned deep in her throat as I came. Arching my back to drive myself deeper into her mouth, I felt as though every bit of who I was rushed through me and into her in a shattering moment of bliss that seemed to go on and on.

Celia slowed her rhythm on my cock, but didn t stop. She sucked and milked my shaft with her hands, drawing every drop of juice from it. My eyes were closed as she slowly moved away, gently letting my cock go. A few moments later I heard the cello again, playing a soft, almost mournful improvisation that spoke of ultimate pleasure, total release. I lay there and opened my eyes once more and drank in her sad yet joyful expression as she played.

Celia got a job performing in a symphony orchestra in Mexico City, and she s gone now. I stayed on in New York, studying with the great Bulgarian I d come there to meet. Celia will be returning to the city in a few months, and sometimes, in the dead of night, I pick out one of my newly purchased cello pieces and close my eyes. And as the soothing symphony fills the room to overflowing I smile, and think of my lovely and talented raven haired Celia playing her passionate music just for me.

Next to my home is a small park with a lake and an abundance of beautiful flowers to enjoy. I like to go to the park to photograph the flowers. I also enjoy capturing the wonders of the female form. Soft, with curves, valleys and peaks.

One day last month, as I was working on capturing a rose, my attention was drawn to a young woman sunning herself on the edge of a flower garden. She was lying on her stomach. The strap of her top was undone, and she had loosened the ties that held her bottoms in place. One butt cheek was almost completely exposed. Engrossed by the view, I decided to take several pictures of her without her knowledge. Pretending to concentrate on the flower in front of me, I began to click off a few frames.

Suddenly, she lifted herself up on her elbows. Quickly, I took a picture of her exposed breasts. Then she turned and looked directly into my lens as I pressed the shutter again. To my surprise, she didn t try to cover up, but instead leaned over to one side to give me a better view. I took another picture. Suddenly, she pulled the straps and tied her top. When she reached down to fasten her bottoms, she blushed, realizing how exposed her ass was. She got herself together as I folded the tripod and stood up to leave. My model stood up also and motioned me to her.

Not knowing what to expect, I worked my way around the flowers until I was standing in front of her. I quickly began to apologize. She merely asked me if I would let her see the finished product. I agreed and put her name and number in my notebook, promising that I would call her as soon as the pictures were developed.

That night I worked in the darkroom until I had all the pictures ready. For myself, I printed each picture an 8×10. For Daisy, I printed regular size prints, but I held back the last three shots I had taken, the ones of her with her breasts exposed. I called Daisy about eight and told her that I was done. She said that she would be at the park again the next day and asked me to meet her there.

The next day, at noon, I saw Daisy walking across the grass toward me. She was wearing a terry cloth robe and carrying a blanket. She greeted me warmly, spread her blanket and sat down. Then she wanted to see the pictures. Naturally, the first few were of the flowers I had been shooting and she complimented me on them. Then she got to the photos of her. She studied each one. Several times she made a face and several times her eyes lit up. After going through the stack several times, she looked up at me and said, Where are the other ones? The ones you took of my tits. I want to see them.

I pulled the prints out of my camera bag and handed them to her. Daisy looked at each one for the longest time. Not bad, she said. Not bad at all. She patted the blanket and told me to sit down. She had a question for me.

My boyfriend is in the Army and stationed in Alaska. I d like to send him something nice to keep him warm. Would you take some pictures of me? I readily agreed and offered to go home and get my camera. You live around here? she asked. When I pointed out my house across from the park, Daisy said, Can we go there?

As we walked into my backyard, she noticed how secluded it was. A fence, bushes and some trees provided complete privacy. This is great! she exclaimed. You could have an orgy back here and no one would know. Real neat. I told her I would get my camera and be right back.

When I returned I found Daisy examining a raspberry bush that had started to bear fruit. I asked her if she was ready and she responded, You bet. At first, she was real tense, so I tried to take some shots while talking to her. Smile, lean against the tree, look up, look down, etc. Nothing was working. She was as stiff as a board. Finally, I told her to pretend that it wasn t me doing the shooting but her boyfriend. Just act as if it s you and him, I suggested.

That did the trick. A dreamy look came into Daisy s eyes, one that I captured on film. She dropped her robe and I saw that she was wearing the bikini she had on the other day. I got some good shots. Seeming to really forget I was there, she took off her top and exposed her breasts to the sun. I started to get hard just looking at them. I kept shooting as she moved around the yard until the camera ran dry and I had to reload.

With her back to me, Daisy untied the strings of her bikini bottoms and let them fall. Both cheeks were just a shade paler than her back. As I took another shot, she looked over her shoulder at me with a devilish grin. Then she turned and faced, me with one hand covering her breast and the other her pussy. She gave me the look of someone surprised in a private moment. In a flash it was on film.

The hand on top joined the one below and the pressure of her arms against her breasts caused them to squeeze together. Another picture. Then I noticed that she had shaved part of her pubic hair. Probably to keep it from peeking out around the edges of her bikini. Daisy spread her legs and thrust her hips out at me. Each moment was captured by my camera and in my mind.

Grabbing the blanket off the ground, Daisy draped it over a shoulder, leaving one breast exposed. She paraded around a little, walking toward me and then away, so I could get a few pictures of her firm cheeks bouncing. As she reached the other side of the yard, she turned and looked at me and said, No one except me, you and my man are going to see these, right? I told her that was correct. Smiling, she walked back to me. I want close ups that will make his cock stand at attention, she said firmly.

I had run out of film again and asked Daisy to hold on while I reloaded. She walked over to a chair in the shade and sat down. When I was ready, she took a breast in each hand and opened her legs, giving the camera, and me, a clear view of her pussy. She wiggled forward to sit on the edge of the seat and then spread her legs even more. As she started to play with herself, I knelt on the ground and with the camera on maximum depth of field, aimed it so I could capture the entire scene: her vagina stuffed with her fingers together with the expression on her face. She pulled one finger out and brought it to her mouth. I got a shot just before the finger entered her mouth and one as she started to suck on it.

Later, as the prints were hanging to dry, Daisy asked me what I thought of the shoot. I told her that I thought the photos were going to drive her boyfriend crazy. Taking them had certainly driven me wild.

Oh, you poor thing, Daisy cooed. I forgot all about you. I was so wrapped up in posing, I never considered what it might be doing to you. Right there in the darkroom, she dropped to her knees and opened my pants. Come to momma, she said, as she pulled out my erection. She wrapped her lips around it.

Sucking my glans, she reached up, undid my belt and pulled my pants down to my ankles. One hand cupped my balls and massaged them as the other grasped the base of my cock and began to stroke it.

In seconds, I began to climax. Daisy took her mouth off me and began pumping my cock rapidly. The first shot flew over her shoulder to land on the darkroom floor. The second one hit her shoulder and the third landed on her left breast. By the time I was drained, little streams of semen were running down all over her. As I softened in her hand, she looked up at me and grinned. Two more pictures. How about it? One of me with your juice on my tits and one of your spent cock.

The next day I met Daisy at the park again. I delivered the prints and asked her if we could go out. I wanted very much to start a relationship with this wild and wicked person. I can t, she said. Ted is coming home in a couple months, and I promised him, no fucking. He doesn t mind me blowing another guy, but my cunt belongs only to him.

I never did see Daisy again, but I have my photos of her and a memory of our great time together.

Mr. A.S., California

I have always been proud of my looks. I m twenty six, tall and slender. I have been told I have a beautiful face. As a successful interior designer, I can afford to buy all the latest fashions and the finest lingerie. I would say that one of my best features are my long silky legs, on which I usually wear sheer lace top stockings. I should also mention that I m a guy, at least I was born one. Actually, I live most of my life as a woman. I ve gotten very good with makeup over the years, and most of my clients don t even know I m a man.

One day I was lounging in my apartment in my silk nightie, doing my nails and reading a glamour mag, when I noticed an article on boudoir portraiture. The article detailed a service where woman could pose in glamorous lingerie or evening wear. This intrigued me and my cock stiffened against my flimsy nylon panties. The thought of seductively posing in front of a complete stranger in just my laciest delicates started me thumbing through my phone book. I was surprised to discover there were so many photographers specializing in sexy boudoir photography.

I dialed one of the numbers and talked to a fellow named Bruce. I told him that I was interested in his services. He seemed like a very nice man and said I should bring with me all the clothes I wanted to be photographed in. When I told him that I was a cross dresser, he seemed even more eager to do the job. He wanted to know if we could get together that evening.

Great, that would be perfect, I said excitedly. This would give me the rest of the afternoon to get ready. I would have to look through my wardrobe for just the right clothes to bring to the shoot, and of course, I would have to get my hair done. After getting all the details, I hung up the phone. My whole body was tingling in anticipation.

Later that day, returning from the hairstylist, I poured a cup of tea, stripped, then stepped into a hot bubble bath. I applied perfumed lotion all over my body. After doing my makeup and touching up my new hairdo, I went to the closet to pick out what to wear. I selected an ivory silk miniskirt with a matching blazer, but I started my dressing with a white lacy bra, matching high cut lace panties and garter belt. I picked out a sheer pink blouse through which you could see my bra. After dipping my pointed toes into my stockings and slowly sliding the hose over my sexy, silky legs, I stepped into bone colored pumps. Looking in the mirror to adjust my skirt and stockings, I saw a gorgeous woman smiling devilishly.

On the drive to the studio, I had a pesky erection as my imagination went wild, and I had to deliberately change my train of thought in order to keep my skirt down. I pulled into the lot of the old warehouse where the studio was located. After touching up my lipstick in the rearview window, I stepped out of my car and got a few whistles from a couple of young men. I must confess, I did let my short skirt ride up a bit when I swung my long legs out of the car door, and I probably bent over a little further than necessary when I got the bags out of the trunk of my car, but it s hard to resist the temptation to show off my feminine attributes.

The clicking sounds of my high heels echoed through the building as I made my way to the elevator where an older gentleman was waiting. He smiled at me as his eyes explored my curves. Noticing that I had my arms full, he asked if he could help me with my packages. I gladly accepted his offer. As we stepped onto the elevator, he proceeded to tell me how attractive I was. I told him his compliment meant a lot since I really wasn t a woman. I smiled coyly and said Bye, leaving the helpful stranger standing there with his mouth hanging open.

Arriving at the studio, I stuck my head in the door and cooed, Hello. I stepped inside. Out walked a handsome, rugged looking man. You must be Cissy, Bruce said as he took my bags. He then invited me to sit down and have a glass of wine as we talked about the shoot.

You look great! he exclaimed. This is going to be fun. And you really are a guy? I laughed and told him about the man on the elevator. After looking at the magazine clippings I had brought, Bruce said it was time to get started.

We decided to start with me at the vanity applying lipstick, so I went to the dressing room and picked out a sexy white teddy, matching nylons and pumps. Bruce added a beautiful white fur coat, and I topped that off with a long strand of pearls. I felt like a real model as the flashbulbs popped around me. I know I ve never felt as sexy and as feminine as I did at that moment.

Next, we moved to another set with a large Victorian bed. Bruce got some great shots of me sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on my nylons with my toes pointed toward the ceiling. I was really getting into it when I climbed onto the bed and started striking some cheesecake poses. My cock was creating a noticeable bulge and straining against the snug fitting garment that encased it. Bruce noticed my concern and told me to relax, saying that my arousal would make the photos even more erotic. With that, all my inhibitions went out the window and my cock really swelled up.

I started stroking my shaft through the sheer satin fabric. My long red nails provided great contrast to my bright white teddy. I was so hot and horny and wanted Bruce inside me so bad I couldn t stop from voicing my need. Fuck me, fuck me, I gasped under my breath.

Before I knew it, his strong hands were around my waist and his hot lips were gliding up my neck on their way to my ear. I absolutely melted in his arms, and after some heavy kissing and fondling, I couldn t hold back any longer. I was squirming on the big, soft bed as Bruce stripped. He pulled out some lube, unsnapped the crotch of my teddy and started working the cool gel into my asshole. I rested my legs on his shoulders as the mass of his manhood filled me where I ached to be filled. I moaned and gasped, Yes, yes, until we both exploded in ecstasy.

Needless to say, we didn t get as many pictures taken as we had planned, but we really didn t care. I think next time we ll try a video.

Mr. C.Y., Pennsylvania

Something was missing, I was telling my fianc e on a Friday night over dinner in a nice restaurant. I guess I thought that with the seamless paper and umbrella lamps set up, I d feel not just more technically capable but more, you know, sophisticated. Monica sipped her martini she sure looked great. My photographer s eye watched her long red hair falling in gentle waves over her shoulders. In the soft light, her hair contrasted against the pale peach of her knit dress.

Monica nodded in understanding. You just haven t done any nudies yet, have you? Her question caught me totally off guard. Her sly smile and the sparkle in her beautiful green eyes made me feel like a naughty little boy caught with a secret. Well, there s a first time for everything, isn t there? She leaned across the table and gently stroked my cheek. Almost whispering, she said, You can always take my picture.

Saturday has always been my catch up day and this was a busy one. Monica had left me standing at her apartment door the night before with just a quick chaste kiss and a promise to be at the studio over my garage the next day at noon. Erotic images played through my mind as I tried to work. Finally, I heard a knock at the door.

Monica smiled and said hello as she brushed past me into the studio. I stood there like a dummy. Finally, she turned back to me. Well, are you going to take my picture or not?

Honestly, I don t remember very much about the first part of the session. I went into a kind of photographer autopilot, setting up standard shots. Monica asked if I had plenty of film. I assured her I always did for her. She made herself more comfortable on the loveseat, that same mysterious smile she had teased me with the night before sending a delightful jolt through my gut. Her fingers played with the buttons of her suit jacket until it came unfastened. With the remote shutter control in my hand, I stepped around to where the camera was mounted on its tripod.

At last the final button at her waist was unfastened. She opened the jacket with both hands and leaned forward, teasing me with a smile of promise. Under the severe jacket, she wore a black lace bra I d never seen before. Monica s pale breasts pressed against the flimsy fabric, her nipples erect and well defined. Sitting back, she giggled and shifted a little, her eyes never breaking contact with mine. She unzipped her skirt and slid it down her legs. She kicked it aside and teased me again by crossing her legs.

I must have snapped off three quick pictures of Monica sitting there in her sexy bra, panties, lace garter belt and dark stockings before I realized she was suggesting I get comfortable myself. As I stripped down to my shorts, I wondered, what does Bob Guccione wear for this sort of occasion? I padded backward to our little stage on the seamless. Monica spread herself across the loveseat, propped up on one elbow. Her eyes moved down my body to where my swelling cock was making itself known. Looks like the photographer is really putting himself into his work, she giggled.

You are one extraordinary woman, was all I could say.

Her teasing smile returned. She pointed to the shutter control and I picked it up. Satisfied she would be captured on film, Monica began removing her bra. Without conscious thought, I pressed the shutter as she exposed one naked breast. Then the panties came off, revealing for the camera her tangerine muff.

It was more than I could stand. I went to her and her hands guided my straining cock into her waiting mouth. As her tongue swirled over the head, her hands grasped my shaft and teased my balls. Unhurried, she sucked me until I was near the point of no return, then she gently moved me back a step so she could stand up.

You sit now, she whispered.

I did as she asked and she stepped closer to me. I could smell the tantalizing scent of her aroused pussy. Grasping her naked ass with my hands, I drew her toward me until I could bury my tongue in those thick red curls. I flicked the tip of my tongue across her clitoris. She tensed her ass against my hands and moaned as her fingers framed my face. I licked faster and that sent her over the edge. Spasm after spasm rocked her body. I kept my tongue moving until she pushed my face away.

Oh, lover, she said, looking down at me. That was so good. Then she pushed me back on the loveseat and in one fluid motion impaled herself on my cock. She moved up and slid herself down over me, slowly at first and then with the building urgency we shared. I grasped her breasts and rolled her nipples between my fingers until she was biting her lips with pain/pleasure.

Just when I thought the next downward stroke would trigger my climax, Monica noticed the remote shutter control lying next to us and picked it up. Smiling at me, she whispered, Ready, lover? Then she swiveled around so that she was facing away from me and buried my cock back inside her pussy. The sensation was made even more delicious when I realized Monica was pressing the shutter button as we continued to make love. She drew herself up until just the tip of my cock was at the entrance of her pussy, then let herself drop, plunging me deep inside her.

The feel of her free hand touching my balls sent me into a shuddering climax. Spurt after spurt of my semen filled her as she ground her lovely pussy against me. Her cunt grasped me tighter as she came for the second time.

Time seemed to dissolve for us after that incredible taste of passion. I reloaded the camera and we playfully took turns with the remote shutter control. Watching Monica play with herself aroused me to a fever pitch and we made love again, this time with her on her hands and knees as I took her from behind. Later, after a glass of wine, we sat just touching and looking at each other. Can we develop the pictures now? Monica asked.

My darkroom in action was new to her, and I enjoyed showing her my equipment. The dark red light needed during the development process never seemed sexy before, but with Monica so close and the lingering smell of our lovemaking spicing the air, my darkroom was suddenly the most erotic place on earth. As I held up a strip of negatives Monica brought her hand down to my satisfied cock. These are such a turn on, she whispered.

I couldn t have agreed more. Then a thought came to me. I held her tight in the darkness and whispered in her ear, There s still one thing missing in all these shots. Monica pulled back and looked at me questioningly, but I pressed my finger to her lips and took her hand. I led her out of the darkroom and back to the loveseat. Just be patient, honey, I said.

I set up my large portrait camera as quickly as I could. I think Monica figured out what I had in mind because she sat back and fixed her makeup as I made the final adjustments to the camera. Finally, I got down on my knees in front of her, kissed her creamy thighs and let my tongue tease her soft pubic hair.

Looking up at her beautiful face, I could see the color coming to her cheeks. Her lips were just parting as I pressed the button and took the first picture. Lick me, she moaned.

The sweet smell of her arousal drew my tongue to the sweet core of her desire. I started slowly, first teasing along her inner lips, then letting my tongue nip the swollen bud nestled where her lips came together.

Oh, you make me crazy, she panted. I kept my tongue dancing across her clitoris until her legs stiffened and her whole body shook in orgasm. As I rested my head against the softness of her thigh, I smiled up at her. Feel good, sweet lady? I asked.

Monica looked down at me. Her eyes were half closed and her lips formed the most delightful smile. You must say that to all your models, she whispered.

Mr. B.I., Ohio