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To my Slut...
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Letters from two women on the road
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Preacher
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Loverboys letters to Bambi
Love with Unknown Person Afar
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Wet Dreams
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Inside Beverly Hills
Incarnate
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If You Were Here
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The Halflife of Dreams,
Great Day
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Dream
Fantasy for my Lover......
A December Fantasy,
Why A Grape is Like a Nipple?
Beach Fantasy
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Candystriper
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Dreams of an Emerald Forest
Modern Day Echo
Dream Walker
Dream Machine
Dreams Without Reality
A Clear Afternoon in Chicago
Beyond Imagination
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DayDreams
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Chris...
Bus Ride
Burt
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What a beautiful dream...
AC Guy


After dinner, Sammi said to her husband, "Ron, watch the kids while I take a
bath." She slipped out of her sweaty clothes in the upstairs bathroom and ran a

tub of just perfect warm water in the large old-fashioned cast-iron white enamel

tub. It was big enough for two. Ron and she had played in the bath more than
once.

Sammi eased herself into the big tub. Her muscles unknotted and relaxed in the

warm water. Her skin turned ruddy - such a delicious feeling. She soaped herself

with lavender-scented soap and washed off the sweat and dirt from her adventure

in the forest earlier that day.

She sunk neck-deep into the warm water, relaxed further, and slipped into a
reverie. With a big grin she remembered her afternoon lovemaking with her
brother-in-law Jacob beside the trail in the forest.

Sammi had always been faithful to Ron and still couldn't believe she had been

that naughty. She felt a little guilty. But she lay in the soothing bath feeling

delightfully, deliciously, thoroughly, completely, absolutely fucked - the best

in a long time.

Sammi hadn't been that naughty, she thought, since ten years ago as
twenty-one-year old college student. She languidly ran her hands over her
breasts
and between her legs as she remembered that bike ride back one college day.

*******

Back then Sammi attended Loyola University. She loved the classical looking
buildings of the downtown Chicago campus - flutes and columns and gargoyles.
Cars, buses, bicycles, pedestrians filled the busy city streets around the
campus. She loved to stand outside and feel the rush of traffic around her and
to
look at the soaring buildings - old and new - of Chicago's Loop.

What a difference from the small farm town in Central Illinois where she grew
up.
Sammi's parents hadn't wanted to send their innocent small town girl off to the

big city. She convinced them because an older friend from town went to Loyola.


Her parents couldn't know, but Sammi wasn't so innocent. As a high school
cheerleader, she had discovered handsome, muscular jock boyfriends were a lot of

fun - in a variety of places, positions and erotic adventures.

Sammi woke up one Saturday morning in her dorm room. Her senior year had only

just started and she didn't have a boyfriend - what a drag. It must have been
the
dream; she woke up horny. "Damn, I wish I had a boyfriend," she thought. Sammi

liked her fun, but she liked to have it in a committed relationship.

She lay in bed and stripped off her t-shirt - the only thing she slept in.
Images
of cute guys and tight butts, muscular arms and hairy chests, long legs and nice

hard cocks filled her head. With her hands, she rubbed herself all over. It only

took a few minutes for her to give herself what she thought of as a "fast-food

finger fuck" - appeases the craving, but doesn't really satisfy the appetite.


Sammi's moans and shouts woke Janet, a young women in an adjacent dorm room. The

sounds coming through the wall excited Janet, so she pulled down her pajama
bottoms and began to play with herself too. Janet's groaning, added to Sammi's

noises, woke more people up.

The girls with overnight boyfriends began a nice brisk morning fuck; the other

girls masturbated. Soon the whole dorm floor sounded like the primate house at

the Lincoln Park Zoo - grunts and groans, wails and howls. This tempted Sammi to

do herself again, but, hell, she was always horny.

She pulled on a pair of skintight black cycling shorts - the kind that supported

her tummy, thighs and ass and pressed tightly against her crotch. Just pulling
on
the tight shorts aroused Sammi again. "What am I going to do?" she thought. "Wack

off a hundred times today?" Damn, she wished she had a boyfriend.

She decided to wear the cycling jersey without a bra. The silky material rubbed

against her breasts and nipples in way she really...liked. She felt very sexy in

her cycling outfit. She gathered her long auburn hair into a ponytail and put an

elastic band around it. Checked herself in the mirror. Liked what she saw.

Sammi put on her helmet and fingerless biking-gloves, rolled her bicycle to the

elevator, out the door and then headed out into the Chicago hum. Her bike was a

mean, lean machine. Shimano gears and derailleur, center-pull brakes and special

crank set, custom post and saddle, special handlebars.

Sammi had spent a small fortune on her bike. It gleamed - not a speck of dirt -

and smelled of lubricants and cleaners from the special care she lavished on her

bike.

Guys turned as she wheeled by. They weren't checking out her Shimanos. Her
pretty
face, long auburn ponytail, rounded hips, nice ass, her long, tan, toned legs
and
just buff enough arms, the way her breasts strained against her jersey, made
every guy between fourteen and sixty think about....

Sammi loved the masculine attention, but, sigh, wondered why no boyfriend.

The way to the lakefront led through a maze of streets and ramps - and beware
the
crazy Chicago drivers. Finally the asphalt path, sixteen miles, that lead past

parks, soccer and softball fields, beaches - and the cool, deep blue waters of

Lake Michigan. She headed north through the last of the downtown. Since she
lived
midway along the path, her round trip would be about fifteen miles.

Joggers and walkers, cyclists and skaters filled the pathway. She pumped and
worked her way up the gears to a good pace - dodging all the traffic. Sun on her

face, lake air rippling on her skin, blood coursing through her body, deep full

breaths - "Ahhhh!" Sammi yelled for the joy of it - like a kid.

She really pumped hard - sprinted. Up off the saddle, muscles straining, breath

heaving, sweating, wind in her face - speeding - flying along. And then she
slowly worked her way back down the gears. Let herself coast along. Felt that

warm rush of endorphins through her body.

And then, wham! She was aware of the saddle rubbing her inner thighs, the tight

shorts pulling at her hips, butt, legs, crotch, the jersey stimulating her
breasts and hardening nipples. My god, she was so aroused she thought she would

hump her bicycle right there!

"PFFTTT!" Clatter. Flat tire. Damn. Braked. Jumped off. Pushed bike to side of

path. Inspected. Thank god the rim was okay. Sammi took the tire off its fork

with the quick-release lever and got out her tool kit. She scrambled around
inside looking for tire levers. Without tire levers - little wedges of plastic -

she couldn't pry off the tire off the rim and then patch the tube and put it all

back together again. Helpless. Hopeless. Really pissed.

Sammi tried to wave down a couple of cyclists to see if they had levers. But
Chicago being Chicago, they ignored her and rode by. Then she saw a vision take

shape in the distant haze - a serious, hardcore cyclist on a $2,000 bicycle. The

heavily muscled thighs and calves, firm ass, the lean, strong upper body.

Closer, and she saw the angular planes of his face, the strong jaw, full lips,

aquiline nose, thick, black hair peeking out of his helmet. Maybe he had tire

levers - and more, she giggled to herself.

"Need help?"

"No tire levers." She shrugged her shoulders and held up her open palms. They

pushed the bikes out of the dirt by the busy path and into a clump of bushes
about twenty-five feet away. Skillfully they set to work fixing the tire. Arms

grazed. Thighs touched. He thought how he would like to ask her out for a drink,

but they were headed in opposite directions. Sammi thought about how she might

get this hunky stranger back to her dorm room.

"Well, that about does it. Guess I'll be on my way."

They both stood up, almost touching. Sammi was lost in sort of an erotic haze.

She couldn't believe what she did next. Her toolkit "accidentally" tumbled to
the
ground in front of him. She got down on her knees to get it and was eye level

with a pleasing bulge in his tight bicycling shorts.

He gasped as Sammi slid his shorts down his hips. She took his cock in her hand

and put the tip in her lips. He stiffened immediately and couldn't believe his

luck. Sammi thought, a stranger, a total stranger. But she wrapped a hand around

his shaft and cupped his balls with her other hand. Her mouth bobbed wetly up
and
down on his nicely big and thick cock.

He tensed. Sammi knew he was about to come, but she wanted hers. She wasn't coy.

"I want you to fuck me," she said.

"Here in this dirt?"

"No, take me from behind on our hands and knees." They both quickly shed their

shorts. Sammi knelt and clutched a strong branch in front of her. With her other

hand, she guided the stranger's prick to the opening of her pussy. She was so
wet
he popped right inside. Sammi frantically fingered her clit while the stranger

played with her tits and plunged in and out. As he pumped in and out and she
pushed back against him, their loins made a lewd slapping sound.

She was so hot for cock - it had been almost six months - she exploded almost

immediately. She cried out loudly in orgasm after orgasm. The stranger grunted

loudly as her pussy sent contracting waves around his cock. He pushed all the
way
in and began to flood her with hot semen. It was so intense for him he lost his

balance and they tumbled to the ground.

After a minute they hurriedly dressed. Stood, embraced, kissed. "Thank you,"
Sammi said.

"No, thank you." They wheeled their bikes to the path and headed off in opposite

directions.

She turned her head and called, "What's your name?" But the stranger was already

too far away.

*******

Ten years later, in the home she shared with Ron and the kids, she lay in the
big
bathtub dreamily remembering the only time she had balled a stranger. Sammi
suddenly became aware that she was frigging her pussy with two fingers of one

hand and rubbing her clit up and down and around with the other. Her hips were

humping against her hand and sloshing water all over the floor.

A cool breeze wafted across her. She opened her eyes and Ron was standing in the

now open doorway of the bathroom. He laughed. "I wondered why you were taking so

long," he said. "Having a little fun without me?"

"Er, what time is it?" She gave him a big lusty grin.

"Don't worry, the kids are already asleep." He stripped off his PJs and got in

the tub facing her. He was already hard from watching her. "Come on baby." He

helped slide up over and onto to his cock. As she rode him up and down, moaning

and groaning, she imagined the whirring of bicycle tires....

 




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