But that doesn’t mean I don’t have sexual needs; I have those, all right. In fact, I have a fairly strong sex drive, which I’ll be the first to admit sits oddly with my general misanthropy. However, after all the stress of work, I don’t usually have the inclination or energy to go looking for someone to sleep with. Not on working days, anyway. My favourite time of day is the late evening. I drive home from work – I live in a fifth storey flat in a residential building – park in the downstairs car parking, where like all the residents I have a reserved place – and take the lift up to my flat. As soon as I’m inside, almost before I lock the door behind me, I take off my shoes, sighing with relief at having them off indian my feet after nine or ten hours. I start stripping off my clothes, piling them on the nearest chair as I get naked. I’m not a slob; I’ll put them away later. I just need to get showered before I do anything else. Later, after I’m clean, I change into my favourite evening wear, an oversized T shirt without a bra and loose shorts, without panties except when I’m menstruating. Unlike the usual women in erotica, I’m a real person, so, yes, I do bleed from my vagina every month, strange as it may seem to some people. I feed the goldfish (they’re Shubunkins, in case you want to know, and, no, I do not keep them in a bowl. I have a large moulded aquarium with an inbuilt top filter, a tank heater and thermometer). I’m not much of a cook, and since I usually only ever cook for myself I don’t see the point of attempting anything fancy, so I make whatever I want and eat it directly in the kitchen, right out of the frying pan. And then, after washing up, the evening’s mine, to rest and do whatever else I want to do. Can you understand now why evenings are my favourite part of the day? I don’t watch television. In fact I don’t even have a television any longer. I got rid of it long ago on the grounds that I have better things to do with my mind than jam it full of consumerist propaganda tailored to the lowest common denominator. Instead, I usually read – a real book, paper and print; outdoor believe it or not, they still exist – until I’m ready for bed. I said to bed. Not necessarily to sleep. I have slept naked, from my college days. This was a habit that was inadvertently instilled in me by my mum, who was a control freak and attempted to regulate every bit of my life. She wore nightdresses that reminded me of Mother Hubbard gowns, and insisted on my doing the same while I was still living at home, until I had become so totally used to them that I thought that they were in the normal manner of things. Then I went to college, where I had a room in the student dormitory. And, of course, I had a roommate. I will call her Mila. She was tall and pale and sophisticated, with aquiline features and eyes that seemed to look down at you from Olympian heights. Her clothes were inexpensive to look village at, and if you saw them hanging from a hook – or tossed over the back of a chair – you wouldn’t have spared them a second look. But once she put them on, they somehow moulded themselves to her, like the clothes of a princess to the manner born. I’ll admit it – I took one couple look at her and fell into a crush. I still remember that first night in the dorm room. Mila had been watching as I unpacked my things – she had moved in several days before, and all her stuff was already stowed collage away – and casually asking me some questions about my past and interests. At last she shook her head sorrowfully. “You poor thing,” she said. I was surprised enough not to be offended. My nipples were so hard, pressing against the front of my blouse. Why am I making her say this? I look out at the pool, but no one is there. Without even thinking about it. Lynne slid her hand down to my cock and began to stroke it and said just lay back and enjoy it and she slid down to my waist and took my cock in her mouth and gave me the best blowjob I ever had. Your brother might couple be so gorgeous but you’re my idea of heaven and it’s you that I want to fuck. Liz turned to me and Hal and gave each of us a knowing grin. I locked eyes with Lexi, my expression conveying my desperate need. I called Lilly to join me I asked how the girls are doing. “Oh fuck yeah, give it to me officer.”, I yelled. I asked. “We don’t need to kill Brock. I don't want any of those things waiting for me in case our conversation runs long tonight.” So without further hesitation outdoor we once “My boyfriend complains about having an erection all the time...” she started. Right before I did, I felt something shaking me. I know you want to.’ She drive up the drive and parked her little Mazda hatchback around the side of the building as she’d been directed, among the other cars hidden from view, leaving the main approach clear for the real guests who would presumably be arriving in much nicer cars. I deserved to enjoy this. It wasn’t long village before I felt Jon shoot his load into me and he lifted me off him. You've told collage me four times already mom”. “There must be a phantom knicker pincher in the marina.” Zoe joked. I know better. This summer has meant the world to me and I will never forget it.” Ending the hug, Jane was crying when she said, “See you back home.” "Yeah it was fun" Vicky replied, her eyes glued to her phone. I wiggled my hips, my pussy juices dribbling down my thighs, and licked again. I tell her to breath through her nose and stop crying when she refuses I have had enough indian I grab her by her arm and tell her to stand against the wall I cuff her to the wall and I look back to see the other girls are shocked.