Movie Gallery From Teen Anal Hardcore

Heather is making love to two black men. They've got to have their cocks inside her ass hole, though. It's a prerequisite. White housewife pussy just isn't deep enough for these two horny studs.

Link

16:40 - 2008-Mar-31 - comments {0} - post comment

Kinky teen cutie gets her ass licked

This kinky little teen cutie answered an ad I placed in a college newspaper. She is a horny little thing with a need for a serious cash injection. During her interview, she would tell me about all the kinky things she likes to do and basically her entire sexual history. I really didn't hear a word of it as all I could think about was licking that sweet little ass of hers. Finally, I got the chance to bury my tongue deep into her ass before going down and eating some sweet teen pussy pie. Her ass and pussy tasted so damn good that I could eat them for hours.

Link

16:40 - 2008-Mar-31 - comments {0} - post comment

Zafira - Alcatraz

Link

16:40 - 2008-Mar-31 - comments {0} - post comment

VelvetSkin

Link

16:40 - 2008-Mar-31 - comments {0} - post comment

Movie Gallery From Mama Fuckers

MARIA, MY MAID, SPREAD HER LEGS AND SHOWED ME HER BUSHY PUSSY. SHE SHAMPOOS HER PUBIES EVERY DAY, I CAN TELL. I ASKED HER IF I COULD LICK HER CUNT, SO SHE SPREAD HER LEGS EVEN WIDER AND LICKED FOREST UNTIL SHE DRIPPED A WHITE RIVER OF CUM.

Link

16:40 - 2008-Mar-31 - comments {0} - post comment

September Scott - Slutty Skirt

Guys, check out this slutty outfit I wore to class on Friday. The weather here has been so hot, I can’t believe it’s October so I wore this little red tank top that was a little too low cute and white skirt. I didn’t realize until after I was at school that it was see through. You could totally see my little white thong. For half a second, I thought about driving back home and finding something else to wear. Then some guy just walking by whistled and I knew I was going to keep the skirt on. I definitely got a lot of looks. The guys loved it, the other girls - not so much. LOL. Even one of my teacher’s noticed it. I think my grade just went up!

Check out these pictures of what I did when I got home from class. I had so much homework to do, but I was so freaking horny I just had to masturbate. Watch me stripping out of my clothes and using a huge dildo in my tight pussy to satisfy myself.

If you want to see more of me you can visit my website, September Scott, and see all my pictures and videos. But don’t worry, I do a lot more than just pose and masturbate like most teen girls you see on the internet. You can join my website and watch me giving blowjobs or even having sex!

Link

20:04 - 2008-Mar-30 - comments {0} - post comment

Movie Gallery From Star Babes

HORI IS UNLUCKY TO GET THIS GREEN HAIRY MONSTER FOR A LOVER. EVERY TIME THEY FUCK SHE ALMOST GETS EATEN. THE ONLY UPSIDE TO THIS STUD IS HIS HUGE GREEN COCK. OH, HOW SHE LIKES IT INSIDE HER, IT ALMOST TASTE LIKE CHOCOLATE TO HER CUNT.

Link

20:04 - 2008-Mar-30 - comments {0} - post comment

Toolbox Fuckers - Tickled Tabitha

From the outside Tabitha seems so sweet, so innocent but trust me that’s not the case. From her pierced tongue, to her tattooed hips - you know there’s something more to this nineteen year old college sophomore. She may be a little trouble maker, but today was her first time on a Sybian sex machine. She was a little nervous and hesitant at first. She complained that it was cold, then warmed it open with her hands like she was jerking it off. Then finally, she climbed on to it. She slid the dildo into her and turned the power on - low at first. She kept turning up the power until she was moaning loudly. It wasn’t long before this teen was having her first real orgasm.

Check out more of Tabitha and more horny teen babes with sex machines at Toolbox Fuckers. Watch crystal clear movies of these hotties riding sex machines, getting fucked by sex machines and having orgasms because of these sex machines. Toolbox Fuckers is definitely the number one site for everything related to sex machines - you don’t want miss this site.

Link

20:04 - 2008-Mar-30 - comments {0} - post comment

Dinner with Ellen

Tags:  Lesbian love, sex with toys and sex I was going to make Ellen mine . . . .

Ellen??™s Saturday

Continue reading First time . . .

Link

20:04 - 2008-Mar-30 - comments {0} - post comment

Scary Girl Lesbian Ghosts

Ania & Masha decided that they wanted to have a spooky Halloween party with all of their friends from school. But when these two barely legal hotties started decorating Masha went into another room, removed her clothes and draped herself in scary see thru material. When she came out to surprise Ania, Ania surprised her, by embracing her friend in a very sexual way and both girls learned to love their friend's body

Link

20:04 - 2008-Mar-30 - comments {0} - post comment

Mayday

“Get those hatch covers on!” the First Mate yelled,
pushing seamen toward the treacherous deck.
“We’ll be killed,” a young man yelled.
“Then be killed, dam you, but save your ship. Get
those hatch covers on now,” he threatened.
Jason, Mat, and Peter reluctantly ran out on deck.
They took the hatch covers and fought the wind and waves to put
them into place. Waves washed over the ship, threatening to wash
the men overboard. Their yellow rain gear wouldn’t help to find
them in such a storm, if they did go over the side. Of course
they wouldn’t live long in the freezing waters 300 miles off the
costs of Newfoundland.
Below decks a cute little brunette in rain gear sat
with one hand on each side of the tiny toilet, as she tried to
pee without getting the dangerous chemicals splashed into her
pussy. She didn’t need toxic shock now, not when all hands were
needed on deck. But nature called, even in a massive storm.

Pee gushed from the tiny pussy into the blue liquid
sloshing below. On some women a pussy was simply a huge ugly
gash between their legs. But on Mandy, it was a tiny,
intricately-carved treasure of great beauty. In addition to being tiny,
her pussy had small delicate lips, a perfectly-rounded mound, and
it was surrounded by clear, unblemished skin. It was neat and
clean, or as sailors were fond of saying, it was eating
material.
At the moment, it was just something that Mandy
peed with. She wiped her small, sparsely haired pussy on a wad
of toilet paper, then stood and began pulling on clothing. She
wiggled into her wet panties, grabbed her wet trousers and pulled
with all her might, while squirming and wiggling like a snake.
It seemed that every particle of wet clothing wanted to stick to
her slender white legs. Her yellow rain trousers were last.
These slid on easily. Snapping the suspenders, she pulled on the
ugly hat and ran up the ladder while snapping the strap beneath
her chin.
Mandy Baker started to spring out on deck, but the
First Mate grabbed her arm and slammed her back against the
bulkhead.

more stories on Adult Blog Directory

“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out there to help.”
“No you’re not. I’m not coming back with the only
woman onboard dead or lost at sea. Back down below.”
Mandy knew he had a crush on her. Most of the crew
did. She couldn’t help it if men found her attractive. She
didn’t join the crew to flirt, she simply wanted to work like the
rest of them. And long line fishing was the easiest way to make
a lot of money fast.
“Fuck you,” she said, pushing past him. She
immediately regretted her perseverance. A wave hit her full in
the face, smashing her head into the cabin. Her ears rang and
white lights flickered in her eyes. Slowly her vision cleared.
She found herself in the firm grip of the First Mate.
“Th… thanks,” she said reluctantly.
“You’re welcome. Now get back to work, break’s
over,” he said, pushing her into the melee.
“You are such an asshole,” she screamed as she ran
to help with the hatch covers. She heard a hammer banging away.
The ship was old, made of wood. Nailing was the only way to
guarantee that the covers stayed sealed. She ran forward and
plopped her rounded ass down on a cover. She felt the vibration
of the hammer striking the hatch through her ass and pussy. It
was quite a thrill.
She saw the next wave curling over the ship. She
yelled a warning, then grabbed the edge of the hatch cover. The
wave tried to tear her free, but she held on. The water cleared
and she saw the other three seamen running for cover. She shot
to her feet and ran for the cabin. She had a brief glimpse of
the Captain, up on the bridge staring down at her. He looked
frightened. But there was so much wind and rain in her face, it
was hard to see anything. She could be mistaken. Only the
wildly flickering lightning, lit the deck so she could find her
way.

The First Mate met Mandy at the hatch. “Bilge pump
can’t keep up with the water. We need a bailing party right
now,” he yelled, pointing below.
“Are we sinking?” she screamed to be heard against
the wind. It was easier for a man’s voice to be heard over the
wind, than a woman’s.
“Yes.”
“Don’t sugar coat it on my account,” she murmured
as she ran down the ladder. Buckets were being passed out. Her
descent was stopped by a five gallon bucket, half full of water,
being shoved against her chest. She started to hurry up the
stairs, but found the First Mate waiting with his hands out. She
passed the bucket on to him and turned to receive the next. The
first bucket went flying past her face, down to Peter, who was
dipping. He started to complain at being splashed, but stopped
at the First Mate’s dark scowl. Mandy handed the next bucket up
the stairs. In a moment it barely missed her face, on the way
back down. She glared and the First Mate signaled that she
should stand back on the right side of the stairs. In a few more
minutes the bailing party was running smoothly. But it wasn’t
enough. The water came in around hatches, the gangway near the
front of the ship, and the matching hatch and gangway beneath the
bridge. They were losing the battle.
“Isn’t there some kind of emergency pump?” Mandy
screamed.
“Yes,” the First Mate said, as he took the next
bucket.
“So why aren’t we using it?”
“It’s on the pier. It needs maintenance.”
“This sucks,” Mandy said, feeling her fear
intensify. In all likelihood, they were going to die. She knew
that fishing was a dangerous job, but she always believed that it
would claim others, the sloppy or ill-prepared, not her. Her
life was too ordered, too planned to die at such a young age.

“Tired?” the First Mate asked.
“Exhausted.”
“Take a break.”
“Not unless everyone else does.”
“We will, one at a time. You’re first.”
“Oh,” Mandy said, collapsing on the stairs.
“Not there, up on the bridge. Give the Captain a
report on our status, and get some coffee into you, it will be a
long night.”
“What IS our status?”
“Fucking grave. I think there’s a hole somewhere.
The holds are half full, we will sink in… three hours, maybe
four unless the weather clears. The only good news is that the
flooded holds have steadied the ship so it’s easier to bail.”

“Oh hell,” Mandy said, climbing past the First
Mate. She stopped and looked back at the hectic scene below, it
seemed surreal. The harsh emergency lights gave a ghostly aura
to everything below. The First Mate tossed a bucket full of
water out on the flooded deck, then motioned for her to leave.
She gave a shudder and hurried up the ladder to the bridge.
“How is it?” the Captain shouted over the roar of
the wind.
“Bad, Captain. The First Mate say’s we are going
down in three, maybe four hours.”
“I figured. I want you to go to the forward
section and see if you can find any damage. I think a hard wave
may have cracked her ribs. Look for a hole up forward.”

“I… I don’t know anything about ships.”
“Do you know about water?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then get forward and look. This storm is
predicted to last for another 8 hours. We don’t have that
long.”
“Yes sir,” Mandy yelled, running down the ladder.
She explained to the First Mate on the way past, then went out on
deck. It was hell. In normal weather the 87 foot long liner
seemed short. But in the wind and waves, it was pure death. It
took Mandy seven minutes to make her way 20 feet across the open
deck. She arrived at the forward hatch battered and drenched.
She didn’t want to make that trip back again.

The comparative silence inside the forward
compartment was a blessing. Salt and mold assailed her nose.
Tar and old ropes filled the compartment. The ship had been
built in 1947, it was made of wood, unlike most new vessels. The
tar was used for patching and maintenance. Now, as she looked at
the black buckets, they were floating in water. She took the
emergency light from where it hung beside her, and shined it
around the locker. She immediately saw the problem. A broken
board was allowing a deluge of water inside. Could she fix it?
Mandy was getting hot in the small cabin. She took off her rain
gear and approached the hole. She pried open a black bucket and
retrieved a wooden slat floating in the water. She dipped the
tar out of the bucket, then dabbed it at the hole. The running
water kept most of the tar from sticking. It simply shot inside
on the gush of water, and bobbed around her with the assortment
of trash. It wasn’t working. She stopped, pressed her foot
against the hole, and pushed, trying to push the two pieces
closed. The broken board disappeared through the hole, letting
in three times the amount of water.
“Oh fuck,” she yelled. They were lost and it was
all her fault. Of course she didn’t have to tell them that.
“Oh shit,” she screamed, quickly pulling on her
rain gear as the water collected in the little room up to her
knees. Before she had her rain gear on, it had reached her hip
pockets. The water was as cold as death.
“No!” she screamed again at the water. She
hurriedly climbed the wooden ladder and undid the hatch. She
slammed the hatch cover down and locked it. A wave roared over
her. She felt herself going over the side. She screamed and
grabbed at the railing as she was about to be flung into the
water. She held on for dear life, watching the wake of the bow
crash beneath her face. After a brief struggle she regained her
footing. The crew was rushing around the deck, the First Mate
screamed orders, and the Captain yelled down at them all
indiscriminately. He saw Mandy approaching and yelled to the
First Mate. The First Mate turned and handed her a life
preserver.
“What about the survival suits,” she screamed over
the wind.
“No time. We are going directly into the
liferafts.”
Mandy shrugged into the life jacket, then froze in
terror. She couldn’t believe her eyes at first, then didn’t want
too.
“Look!” she screamed. The Captain turned and
looked at the wave curling over the boat. He let go of the wheel
and hurried down ladder to join the others. The inflated
liferaft was jerked out of their hands by the wind. It flew over
the side, but Peter and Mat held it’s rope to keep it from flying
away. As each crewmember grabbed the rope, they dove over the
side, one at a time. None turned to see the ship rolling over on
it’s side and disappearing beneath the waves. The lights were
still on as it sank, leaving an erie trail of light as it made
it’s way to the bottom. An endless wave washed over Mandy,
submerging her for several minutes. She held her breath, kicking
toward the surface with the rope still in her hands. She broke
surface and took a gasp of air, just before another wave hit her
in the face. Rather than trying to swim to the raft, she began
pulling on the rope, one hand at a time. In a moment she bumped
into another body.
“Pull,” she screamed in a shuddering breath. “Go
the other way.”

Mandy was chilled to the bone. At first the water
had chilled her neck and ribs, as it worked it’s way beneath her
rain gear. Then it struck her pussy and chest and she was really
cold. Now she was cold clear to the center of her being. She
knew her core temperature was dropping. It was hard to hold onto
the rope, with her frozen hands.
The weather was too horrible to distinguish
features, she could only see a flash of yellow in the raging
waters ahead of her. The man screamed and flailed at the water,
then pulled himself toward the raft. The could see the raft in
the frequent lightning flashes. A light flashed atop the canopy,
barely discernable in the rain, wind, and waves. The trip seemed
endless.
Some time later, Mandy was pulled into the raft by
a group of frozen, desperate hands. She was so cold she could
barely feel her body, but she did feel a pair of hands touching
her breasts in the darkness. She didn’t care, the hands were
warm. She passed out or fell asleep.

“We are going to die,” a small, frightened voice
said from the darkness. Mandy’s eyes blinked open. She looked
around. It was early morning, she could barely distinguish the
shapes of men leaning against the yellow rubber tent around her.
The raft was full of water, up to the tops of their reclining
legs. Nobody had bothered to bail.
“Of course we’re going to die,” the First Mate
lashed out. “We don’t have a chance in hell of surviving long
enough to be rescued.”
“Why?” Mandy asked in a scratchy voice. She tried
to move her legs and found a heavy body laying across them. She
kicked it away. It was a dead body.
“There’s a dead man in here,” she shivered.
“The Captain,” the First Mate said regrettably.
“He couldn’t swim, he drowned. I found him tangled the end of
the rope. He got off easy. It will be a long haul for the rest
of us.”

“Why won’t we be rescued?” Mandy insisted.
“Because we have been blowing ahead of this storm
for the past 8 hours, with the tent on this liferaft acting as a
sail. We are now a hundred miles northeast of where the ship
went down, or in other words, the middle of the ocean. And to
top that off we don’t think our mayday was received. You can
fool yourself, but we are fucked.”
“Bullshit,” Mandy said, kicking the dead Captain
away. “Somebody get rid of the Captain, please, we need the
room.”
“We might need him,” the First Mate said
sullenly.
“Why,” Mandy regretted the question the moment she
asked it. Suddenly the answer was clear. He might be their only
source of food.
“Get rid of it,” she insisted.
“Go ahead,” the First Mate shrugged. Two seamen
leaned forward, pulled the dead Captain to the opening, and slid
him out.
“These rafts have fishing gear and emergency water
gear, don’t they?” Mandy asked.
“Yeah, for all the good it will do us.”

“You stupid shit, you are the First Mate. You are
supposed to be trying to save us!” Mandy screamed.
“I was First Mate of the Victoria, not this fucking
raft. If you want saving, do it yourself.”
“Somebody please find the distillery,” she said to
the dark faces around her. She saw a figure digging into a
canvas pouch. He handed her the inflatable distillery. He
retained the fishing gear, knife, and flashlight.
“The catch basin is full, but salty,” Mat called
after sucking briefly on the rubber straw. Rain water had
collected on top of the raft and run down into the catch basin.
But so much saltwater had blown around, as to make the water
undrinkable.
“Drain it,” Mandy said reluctantly.
“We don’t have bait,” Peter called anxiously.
“You just chucked it overboard,” the First Mate
growled.
“Oh shit,” Mandy said, putting a hand over her
mouth. “I didn’t think of that.”
“He’s right there,” Jason said. Mandy could see
him pointing through the opening. She crawled to the opening and
looked outside. Captain Rinker was floating face down, just a
few feet away. She leaned out and pulled him close.

“Does anybody have a knife?” she asked. She heard
the click of three knives. She accepted the first one and cut
the rope trailing from the raft. The Captain was starting to
drift away. She paddled the raft closer and grabbed the
Captain’s shirt. By poking a hole through his collar, she
anchored him to the boat with the shortened rope. She felt a
hand on her rounded ass as she began to reenter the raft. She
turned to find Jason facing her.
“Did you lose something?” she asked.
“You have a nice ass… Well I figured if we are
about to die anyway, I would like to… I wanted to
touch…”
“I understand. You’re a virgin, aren’t you.”
“Yes.”
“Well let’s get the line out, and the distillery
going, then we can fuck. It would be a great way to warm up and
get our minds off things. But first, can you guys bail this
damned water out of here? I would like to sit on something
dry.
“What with?” Mat asked.
“Well… use your shoe,” she said, seeing nothing
else around. Even the First Mate began to bail. Licking his
lips, his eyes never left her ass. Mandy knew what he wanted, it
was actually the same thing that she wanted. She hadn’t had a
good fuck since… 11th grade?
“Oh gross,” Peter said, cutting into the dead
Captain’s arm. “Somebody else can do this next time,” he said,
tossing the three baited lines into the water.

“You won’t need him next time, save the fish
innards for bait. They work better anyway, unless somebody feels
like opening the Captain up and using his liver.
“You guys can do what you like, but I’m getting out
of these wet clothes,” Mandy said, pulling up her shirt. The
eyes of the men widened in anticipation. Her white bra-encased
tits jiggled as they sprang free. Jason inched forward, licking
his lips in anticipation. The sun suddenly appeared over the
horizon, giving the scene a pleasant orange glow. Mandy smiled
sweetly, seeing that she had the men’s attention. She reached
behind her and unsnapped her bra. Her tits were white, cold, and
covered with ridges from wet clothes. But to Jason, they were
the best pair of tits he had ever seen.
She rubbed her cold tits, then reached up and slid
her wet clothing into the ridge above her. The bra dangled
enticingly near Jason’s face. He leaned close to it and
inhaled.
“Sniff all you want, I want what comes off next,”
the First Mate said, looking at her ass. She smiled and shucked
off her shoes, then rolled down her socks and handed them to the
First Mate. He scowled and tossed them against the side of the
tent.
Mandy grabbed the belt on her trousers, then
stopped, looking around the spacious raft.
“Well?” she asked, looking from one face to
another.
“Well what, do you want us to turn around?” the
First Mate sneered.
“No, but I don’t see why I’m stripping alone.”
“Because you are the best form of entertainment for
hundreds of miles around,” the First Mate said, but he began
pulling on his shirt. The other’s followed his example.

Mandy forced her pants down and off her ankles.
Sitting naked and cold in her white panties, she suddenly felt
dirty. She looked through the opening of the tent, only to see
the white flesh of the Captain bobbing outside the door.
“We really do have to get rid of him,” she said in
disgust. “I want to take a bath.”
“I’ll take care of it,” the First Mate said. He
laboriously hacked off a hand, stuck it in the compartment
outside, with the life ring, then pushed the body away. The wind
had picked up again. It quickly separated the raft from the
waterlogged body. With a shiver, Mandy slid over the side, into
the freezing water. She washed quickly, under her arms and
between her legs. In seconds, she was scrambling up the small
four runged ladder. She fell into the raft, shivering. Jason
quickly covered her shivering body with her plastic rain
jacket.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. She
looked at him, shivering half to death, and gave him a brave
smile.
“So who’s first?” the First Mate asked
casually.
“I… Jason,” she shivered, turning to face the
men. “I want Jason to fuck me first, but I will go down on one
of the other three.”
“I’m all for that,” the First Mate smiled. She
nodded and crawled near him.
“Wh… what do I do?” Jason asked nervously.
“Here, I’ll talk you through it,” Mat said
eagerly.

“Oh, oh, he’s in trouble now,” Peter joked. He
moved closer to Mandy and took her hanging breasts into his
hands.
“Oh hell, that feels good,” Mandy gasped, looking
down at his gently kneading hands. The First Mate was now naked.
He spread his legs and coaxed Mandy forward. Mandy crawled
between his legs and lowered her mouth to his cock. It had
gotten hard in anticipation.
Mandy felt her panties being jerked off her ass.
She closed her legs so the panties could be taken off without
destroying them. In a moment she lifted her feet and the panties
thrown across the tent. Naked, but not overly-cold, Mandy spread
her legs wide. She felt several hands caressing her perfectly
rounded ass. In another moment one mouth glued itself to her
pussy and began sucking. The tongue began probing her young,
tasty pussy flesh. A second mouth began kissing the rounded
cheeks of her ass. It licked and kissed her pleasantly-shaped
ass liberally, then concentrated on licking her asshole. She
moaned in delight. This elicited a sympathetic moan from the
stolid features of the First Mate.
Peter pushed the First Mate’s leg aside and laid
beneath Mandy. His mouth began feasting on her ample left
breast.
Mandy was in absolute heaven. She desperately
wanted to feel a cock plunge up inside her pussy, but the
combined forces of three mouths was pleasure enough for any
woman. She knew that a cock in her pussy, would preclude a mouth
on her ass. She liked the mouth reaming her asshole. Nobody had
ever done that too her before. It created a warm, pleasant heat
in her ass.
Peter’s mouth on her breast was absolute heaven.
The warmth and electric thrills from his mouth spread throughout
her chest and down to her pussy. The mouth in her pussy licked
her and there, as if tasting every little portion of her woman
sex. It finally concentrated on her clit and began licking it
brutally. Mandy moaned and nearly bit the First Mate’s cock. He
felt the teeth on his cock and hissed. His hand went to the back
of her head, then rested there as she bobbed up and down on his
stiff manhood.
Mat pulled Mandy’s ass cheeks apart and tried to
stick his tongue inside her ass. His forehead was pressed
against Jason’s, who eagerly licked he clit, occasionally sucking
it into his mouth. Finally he dropped his mouth to the lower
part of her cunt, inserted his tongue into her vulva, and tongue
fucked her as quickly as he could. He could taste her abundant
juices. The combination of sea salt and her natural sweet
lubricant were amazing. He had never smelled or tasted anything
so erotic.
“I need to fuck her,” Jason gasped. Mat
reluctantly backed away. He crawled on his knees around Mandy
and laid on his back so he could nurse on her right breast.
Mandy loved this change, but not as much as she loved the touch
of a hard cock at the entrance to her pussy. She paused, waiting
for that first initial thrust. When it came she cried out around
the First Mate’s cock and sank all the way down to it’s base,
like a sword swallower. He moaned and held the back of her head,
forcing her to stay down for several minutes. He finally
released her as she began to struggle for breath. By that time
Jason was pounding away at her ass. She was heating up quickly,
about to have a major orgasm. She was afraid that Jason just
wouldn’t care. He would continue on until he was satisfied. She
clamped her pussy shut around him, trying to hold him in place
for a moment and slow him down. It only served to intensify the
feeling inside her womanhood. The thrill she received from the
cock plunging in and out was enormous. At times she even forgot
to pleasure the First Mate. He didn’t seem to mind, he knew that
prolonging his blowjob would only intensify his orgasm.
Mat and Peter nursed on her tits like a pair of
twins. They sucked and caressed her soft flesh, intensifying her
pleasure even more. She was in absolute heaven. Nothing had
even come close to the pleasure she was feeling. Now she saw the
advantages to an orgy, and knew why it was so popular. She
didn’t know it was possible to feel so much pleasure, from so
many different areas. Even the blowjob she gave the First Mate,
gave her pleasure. She needed something to suck, while going
through so much intense enjoyment. Everything felt absolutely
perfect.

It was no wonder that her orgasm hit her like a ton
of bricks. At one moment she was marveling at the heat and
electric jolts of pleasure in her lower body, then her orgasm hit
her instantly. She screamed, holding the First Mate’s cock in
her hand and pumping it absently, while her pussy spasmed around
Jason’s cock. He continued plunging in and out of her pussy,
even while she was coming. She cried softly, enduring the savage
thrusts of Jason’s cock, his pounding hips, and the wonderful way
his balls pounded against her clit. As she became sensitive, she
tried to pull away for force him back, but he ignored her futile
efforts. Suddenly he cried out and stiffened, jerking against
her lush ass and moaning loudly, while his cum filled her hot
pussy. The juices combined to create a great heat in her
womanhood. Her loins were boiling, already anticipating a second
good fucking. She continued to fist the First Mate’s cock. He
began moaning and tried to force her hand down on his cock.
Suddenly realizing why he was so urgent, she dropped to her
elbows and engulfed his cock with her open lips. She was just in
time. His cock began spurting thick white cream into her waiting
lips. She swallowed urgently, until she caught up with the
spurting liquid, then sucked gently until his orgasm stopped and
the flow of cream as well. She sucked for a moment, despite his
objections, then licked the head clean, before sitting up on her
heels.
One good thing about making love in a raft, was
that her knees didn’t hurt. They were well-padded. Mandy went
to the opening in the tent, sat on the rubber inner-tube, and
spread her legs wide. With four eager eyes watching, she managed
to wash her pussy clean. She slid back inside, then noticed
something pulling on the rope, surrounding the raft.
“The rope is moving,” she pointed.
“The fishing lines,” Mat gasped, racing forward.
He wrapped the line around his knife handle so he could pull the
fish into the boat. It was a very large fish, a variety of
drum.
“Food,” Mat said joyously.
“We won’t starve today,” Mandy said happily.
“Our turn,” Peter said anxiously, grabbing Mandy’s
right breast. Mat nodded in agreement. He checked the now
frayed piece of the Captain’s arm, then tossed the line over the
side. The fish flopped on the raft floor near the First Mate.
He retrieved his knife, from the sheath on his belt, held the
fish by the gills, and skewered it’s head. He tossed it into the
unused side of the raft, while refolding his knife.
“He’ll probably go fifteen pounds,” he said in
satisfaction. “Could last us for several days.”
“We can’t cook it, should we dry it?” Mandy
asked.

“Naw, we need all the moisture we can get. Dip it
in salt water for a while and it will taste just fine. You’ll be
surprised.”
“Our turn,” Mat said urgently.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Mandy said sweetly. She had been
told once that if a man needed sex badly, his balls would hurt.
The way Mat was holding his hand on his crotch, reinforced that
theory.
“While you guys are fucking, I’m going to eat,” the
First Mate said, crawling toward the fish.
“Let me wash up first,” Mandy said, then giggled
when she saw the First Mate pause with the fish in his hand. He
smiled and shook the fish, then flipped out his knife.
“I would like to eat you,” Mat said hesitantly.
“I just fucked her,” Peter said in disgust.
“Hey, that doesn’t ruin it, you know,” Mandy said.
“All is need is somebody to hold my feet while I wash it
out.”
Mat nodded and moved closer. Mandy sat on the
inner-tube, in the opening, and slid her ass out over the water.
While Mat held her feet, to keep her from falling, she opened her
pussy with the fingers of her left hand, while flushing it out
with her right.

“That’s fucking cold,” Mandy growled.
“I’ll warm it up again,” Mat promised.
“BBBBLLLLLLLAAAAAATTTTTTT!!!” the raft vibrated
under the blast of an air horn. Mandy screamed and pulled
herself into the raft. She peeked out to see a huge oil tanker
bobbing to the South, less that a mile away.
“Holy shit,” she said, grabbing clothes and
throwing them on. “It’s a ship!”
The First Mate stopped chewing. He looked at the
raw fish in his hand and tossed it across the raft. He wiped his
hands and started dressing as well.
“But it was our turn,” Mat objected as he watched
Mandy’s smooth ass sliding into a pair of pants. She gave him an
amazed look and buttoned her shirt.
“The world is full of ass, fuckhead, but the ocean
is not full of ships,” the First Mate said, pulling on his shoes.
“Which would you rather do, fuck and die, or live and pick up a
piece of ass later?”
Mat looked from Mandy to the First Mate, thinking
hard.
“I’m flattered,” Mandy laughed. “There’s a boat
coming.”

The First Mate destroyed the raft before stepping
into the lifeboat. He watched with a sad look as it sank from
site.
“It’s only a raft,” Mandy said, putting an arm on
his shoulder.
“No, it’s the last piece of the Victoria, and the
last we will see of the Captain. I suppose we should have
returned his arm for burial, but I’m not touching the damned
thing.”
They were welcomed aboard. The crew was
immediately ushered to their own quarters, a stateroom for Mandy,
and berthing with the crew for the guys. It was good to get warm
and full. It was good to see bright light and people. But Mat
still had one grip.
“Oh, ok,” Mandy said as they sipped coffee. “Get
Jason and come down to my cabin,” she said with a forlorned look.
Mat jumped to his feet and ran off. Mandy smiled and finished
her coffee.
“You finally told him,” the First Mate said,
walking up behind her.
“Yeah. I figured he’d suffered long enough. You
dropping by later?”
“Sure, I could use a good fuck, and you certainly
are a good one. We are three days from New York, have fun,” he
said, walking off chuckling.
“Oh I will,” she whispered, looking around the mess
decks at the crew, who looked back at her with a great deal of
interest. Of the thirty faces around her, only three were women,
and two of those looked interested.

“Oh I certainly will,” she sighed happily.

Link

14:31 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Sucking cock on cam

Don't you just hate it when you are all kinds of horny and feeling generous and the babe in your life pours cold water on your cock? So does Galina's boyfriend but he thinks he might have found a sure fire way to get his barely legal GF to fuck him and his friend at the same time. His friend is a photographer and he decides to trick her into doing a
sexypictures, sexual dysfunction, free sex games online, sex massages, bang gang sex

Link

14:31 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Movie Gallery From Smothering Legs

He was in a band ... a rock and role band! He knew what sex was! Why did this woman's expertise surprise him so much? She knew how to fuck like a veteran whore and he found himself crying out for more. When she sat her face on his ass and wiggled it about he came damn close to fainting!

Link

14:31 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Traci sucks a mean cock!

Here is another one of those very cute teen girls who gets seduced by an older guy who knows exactly what he wants. And Traci is an enthusiastic, if not so experienced lover. Her clothes don’t stay on her body for more then a minute as this video begins by jumping right into the action as these two get naked. Once her clothes are off there is no need for getting Traci ready she wants some cock and she wants it NOW! She sucks on this guy’s cock like a jackhammer moving up and down the shaft so fast sometimes you can’t even see her clearly! And once his cock finds its way into her tight teen pussy the fun really begins! He rams it home so hard there is no way this girl can keep herself from cumming! When he finally lets her have his load it is all over her pretty face and I swear some of it shoots up her nose! This is a very hot video feature a very sexy cute teen girl!

Link

14:31 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Teen couple caught on hidden cam

Even more of our man on the street cam capers as when spot another young couple kissing and fondling each other. I may be mistaken but isn't his hand moving up and rubbing her pussy? It doesn't matter because They Didn't Know we were a block away and watching it all through the all seeing lens of our cameras!

Link

14:31 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Movie Gallery From Black Girls

Well not all our sluts come from places we’d rather not mention. Sometimes we find a rare babe like this one and try and get the action happening somewhere with a bit of class. This older babe needed some cash and she was happy to spread and fuck like a whore … come to think of it, that’s what she could be doing right now … we never did ask her what she was doing standing on the street corner.

Link

12:38 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Mina - Special unit

Link

12:38 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Nelli plays with her pussy on the toilet

After Nelly uses the bathroom she figures since her pussy is already wet.... here she masturbates herself with her fingers and a showerhead gets both clean and off at the same time. Check out how this hot blonde 21 year old girl does it!

Link

12:38 - 2008-Mar-25 - comments {0} - post comment

Triked, Tricked, Trolloped

There are some lovely beaches down in the south west corner of Western Australia. Long stretches of pristine sand dividing the Indian Ocean from the dense forests of tall karri trees. Hundreds of kilometers of unpolluted and mostly unpopulated coastline stretched like a silver ribbon between rockbound headlands. Very nice - except when your idiot of an husband has bogged down the family four wheel drive on one of those deserted beaches. Believe me, there’s no better way of exploring the strengths of a relationship than sharing a shovel on a scorching hot December day, especially when all your joint efforts to dig large holes in fine sand are proving futile. Which was one of the reasons why our marital relationship was sinking even faster than the Suzuki. Not that any of it was my fault.

more stories on Adult Blog Directory

I hadn’t wanted to drive way out of town and down some bush track to go rock fishing. As far as I’m concerned fishing is an old man’s occupation. Jeff isn’t even thirty yet, nor am I, so I thought we could have found something more interesting to do on a Saturday morning. Still, fishing was what he wanted to do and the only alternative if we stayed indoors was having him watch cricket on the TV - and compared to watching cricket, throwing a fishing line into the sea is an epic adventure full of drama and excitement.

So here we were, bogged down before we’d even got to the fishing spot and with no way of getting somebody to come and help us out. The nearest sealed road was five kilometers away, five kilometers of bare dirt trail bulldozed through the trees. No other signs of life on the beach, not even a boat in sight anywhere and Jeff snarling at me all the time just because I happened to be driving the bloody vehicle when it sank down to the axles. He was the one who was telling me where he wanted to go! The most annoying thing of all was my job - I’m a nurse and I was scheduled for the evening shift in the local hospital. A fine fool I was going to look if I couldn’t even phone in and let them know I wouldn’t be able to make it.

Then something entirely unexpected happened. I was walking back from the tree line with an armful of old branches to push under the Suzi’s back wheels when I heard an engine. At first I thought it was a car and then I saw a small aircraft skimming along the shoreline so low it was well below the tops of the karri trees. It was the strangest looking thing I’d ever seen - not like a normal plane with a wing on each side. Instead there was just one wing that looked something like the sail of a yacht, with red and white patterns on it. Hanging underneath the wing was the rest of the plane, what there was of it.

Have you ever been to a fairgound and had a ride in one of those little plastic pods that hang down from the edge of a big wheel? If you can imagine something like that, only smaller, with the pilot sitting in it and a windscreen down around his knees, you’ve got the idea. The only other difference was a nose wheel at the front and two more wheels at the back with pointy hoods over them. Yes, and the engine of course. The plane was flying so low that I could easily see it mounted behind the pilot, with the propeller right at the back of the pod, pushing the strange little contraption along. I suppose it was travelling about as fast as a car would on a normal road and as it came level the pilot waved to us with one hand. The other one was resting on a bar - like a trapeze bar, I guess - which was the bottom piece of a triangle which came to a point underneath the wing. There were two more metal bars that I could also see, from the front and back of the pod and also joined together underneath the wing. They obviously carried the weight of the pod and somehow the pilot was steering himself around with the bar he was holding.

Anyway, whatever he was doing and however he was doing it, he seemed to be having a much more enjoyable morning than we were. As soon as the plane was past us the engine revved up and the plane climbed away at a steep angle until my eyes were watering from the strong sunlight as I tried to watch it. The show seemed to be over, although when I got back to the Suzuki Jeff was still scanning the sky with his hands cupped around his eyes.

“That must be what they call a microlight, or an ultralight. Strange looking thing, like an overgrown hang glider. That’s the way they steer hang gliders, with a bar attached to the wing, they push and pull against the bar to move the weight of the aircraft underneath in relation to the center of gravity.”

In case I haven’t mentioned it yet, Jeff is a teacher, a high school teacher. . . oh, you guessed, did you? If there were any teachers on the Titanic they probably drowned giving each other lectures on the way icebergs are formed. Anyway, since he was only wearing thongs, I dropped the tangle of branches on top of his bare feet as a means of self expression. He expressed himself back to me and the plane was forgotten about as we bickered at each other. Until we heard it again.

I was a little surprised to see it coming back again from the same direction as before and even lower and slower. It looked to me as if it belonged in a Star Wars’ movie, with its strange shape and the way it was hanging in the wind like a mechanical hawk. I thought it must be a hell of a way to fly, in a seat with nothing around it but empty air. Then the engine noise dropped off and I quickly changed my mind about even thinking about wanting to try it - the wing had dipped lower and it seemed the ultralight was going to crash. The wheels wavered around unsteadily a meter or so above the hard packed sand left by the ebbing tide, like a drunk trying to get his arse back onto a bar stool. Then the ultralight settled down onto the sand with the sudden deftness of a seagull dropping onto a morsel of food. Little gusts of water sprayed out from underneath the wheels as the pod’s weight fell onto them. The wet sand seemed to slow their rotation down very quickly, the plane wallowing to a walking speed about fifty meters away from us and the pilot revving the engine to keep his wheels turning until he was level with the Suzi. Then the high pitched yammering of the engine stopped and the propeller blades jerked to a halt. The pilot carefully tilted the wing over, keeping control of it with the steering bar he was holding until the wingtip nearest to us was resting on the sand.

Jeff and I were watching all this with surprise and interest. We kept on watching as a tall and slender man in tight fitting blue flying overalls unstrapped himself and climbed out of the pod. In fact it was only his figure - or his lack of it - which showed him to be a man because his head was completely covered with a wrap around motor bike helmet that had a tinted glass vision panel in the front of it. By God, I thought, I was right, not only does the plane look like something out of Star Wars but the pilot dresses like Darth Vader.

Before he even touched the helmet the pilot took something out of the pod that looked like a giant corkscrew, walked along the wing to the down-tipped end and drove the corkscrew into the sand before tying a lanyard at the top of the corkscrew to the wing tip. The intention was clearly to prevent the wing being blown around. At close range my first impression of it being like a yacht’s sail also seemed right. The whole thing was just a collection of aluminum battens wrapped around with colored fabric. It seemed incredible anybody would trust their life to such a flimsy support. Still, it wasn’t my worry, though as the pilot finally removed his helmet I watched with interest to see what sort of a madman he was. A pity there was no chance of him being Harrison Ford.

It was another surprise to see that he was pretty old. In his forties for sure, though very well preserved, with a lot of dark hair turning gray at the temples, a sharp angled face with a wide smile that showed off excellent teeth and crisp blue eyes with crinkles of smile lines around them. Behind the good looks there was confidence as well, self confidence and self assurance. If I’d seen this guy in hospital whites I’d have tagged him straight away not only as a doctor but as a highly skilled consultant. Success smells on some men like after shave, an enticing aroma which never fades away. And as we were looking at him he was looking at us: at Jeff, briefly, then at me, for a longer time.

“Hi, I’m Brett Reynolds.” A nice voice, sharp but well controlled.

Jeff introduced us: “Jeff Pearson, and this is my wife Sandra. You’ve caught us at an awkward moment. We’ve got bogged down and can’t seem to get out of it.”

“Yeah, I could see you were in strife. I can’t give you a tow but I thought you might want some messages passed on. I couldn’t see any antennas on your wagon and I guess you’d be well out of cell phone coverage in this neck of the woods.”

“That’s right. We tried to use the mobile but it was a waste of time.”

The pilot was still looking at both of us but I knew that most of his attention was on me. Not that I could really blame him for that because I wasn’t wearing anything underneath my sweat soaked tee-shirt and my shorts were cut about as short as they could be. In fact I felt quite flattered that I could get a guy like that taking a lot of second looks.

“Is there anybody around here who could help you out?” Brett asked.

“Eddie Turner would come out,” I said.

“Yeah, Eddie would be great.” Jeff turned to the pilot to explain. “Eddie Turner is a mate of mine, got a Land Rover with a winch on it. He’d come and pull us out if we could let him know where we are. He lives quite a way down the road though, in Kilkenny Ponds. Must be about fifty or sixty k’s from here.”

Brett smiled widely, showing off his teeth even more: “It’s rather less. It’s forty seven point two kilometers from here. Or at least it is to the Kilkenny airstrip as the crow flies. I suppose it must be another five or six k’s into the town itself. I’ve got it nailed down on the GPS because I flew out from there this morning. My car’s still there.”

“Oh.” Jeff smiled a little himself, clearly as relieved as I was at the prospect of being saved a lot of walking and a lot of trouble. “Maybe you could phone through to Eddie when you get back?”

“No problem. It’s a lovely day for a flight and I doesn’t matter to me which direction I fly in. I can go back to Kilkenny Ponds now and call in from the strip. With the wind blowing the direction it is I should be there in about half an hour. What’s your mate’s phone number?”

Jeff told him and Brett wrote it down on the back of his hand.

“Could you do us another favor and phone the local hospital as well? Let them know that Sandra won’t be able to come in for her shift tonight.”

Brett nodded and seemed concerned: “You’re a nurse, Sandra?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t have the hospital short of nurses - you never know when there might be an emergency. Why don’t I give you a lift back to Kilkenny Ponds in the trike and then drive you into town?”

I didn’t quite realize what he meant by a trike until he nodded towards the ultralight and my stomach flipped over like a tossed pancake: “Me! Go up in that thing!”

The obvious fear in my voice made him shake his head in rueful amusement. “Sandra, it’s not like bungy jumping off Sydney Harbor Bridge - it’s fun, and safe. I’m a licensed and insured pilot and my passengers are all insured as well. I’ve got a spare helmet and a spare set of overalls on board, though you’ll hardly need them in this hot weather. Believe me, you’d be safer on board a trike than you would be on a 747.” His eyes crinkled up in another sudden smile. “And I should know, I fly 747’s for QANTAS for a living.”

It was an exciting idea and an attractive one in many ways, provided I didn’t find myself gripped in total panic once we were off the ground. Rather stunned, I walked over the ultralight and had a second look at it. True, there were two seats in it, one behind the other, but that was about all you could say there was in the way of accommodation. It was only at the front of the pod that the top of the plastic windscreen came up to about waist level. On either side of the front seat the bodywork was hardly ankle high, and barely much more than that around the back seat. I imagined myself looking straight down from one of them, down into a drop of hundreds of meters, and my intestines wriggled around like a nest of angry snakes.

“It’s just like riding a motorbike, only with a better view and without all the road hazards,” Brett said soothingly. “Why don’t we go up for just five minutes and if you don’t like it I’ll bring you straight back down again.”

“How would I tell you what I was feeling with all the noise?”

He held up a cable that hung from his helmet, showing me a plug at the end of it: “The helmets have earphones and a mike built into them. We can talk to each other as easily as we are doing now. Believe me, you’ll never want to come down once you’ve tried it.”

Then he sort of looked sideways, to where Jeff was standing a few paces away, and lowered his voice a little: “Or would you rather spend the rest of the day stuck here?”

I didn’t think Jeff heard that. Or if he did I’m sure he didn’t hear the insinuation in it that I did, a hint of surprise that somebody like me was wasting her time in this sort of situation. Or maybe I was hearing things which weren’t really there. While I was standing undecided Brett reached underneath the back seat and took out a helmet, then a neatly folded set of overalls like the ones he was wearing.

“I can adjust the headband on the helmet for you, Sandra - there’s not much I can do about the flight suit, I suppose. Normally, you’d need at least a jacket to keep the wind off but not now. A day like today, the only cool way to enjoy yourself is flying.”

Jeff came over and looked at the helmet and overalls I was holding: “You’re surely not going to try this, are you, Sandra? You’d be scared stiff.”

If he’d wanted to stop me flying then it was the worst possible thing he could have said. Of course he doesn’t really think of me as a weak woman - he often says that he’d faint if he had to deal with some of the bloodier situations that come along in my job. It was simply a typical case of a male opening his heart and his mouth without remembering to put his brain somewhere in the loop between them. And he knew it as soon as I did, hastily trying to back off without totally backing down.

“I mean I’d be frightened myself, to go up in one of these things. Anybody would be, to fly around hanging underneath a few strips of alloy and fabric. And the hospital can certainly get by without you for one day.”

It was too late though, my temper was up. “I’m not going to miss a shift if I can help it. Anyway, I’ll probably never have another chance to do something like this and I want to give it a go, just to see what it’s like.”

“Aww, come on, Sandra, people crash in these things. It happens all the time.”

“People crash in cars as well and that happens all the time.”

He was genuinely concerned about me, not simply trying to carry on the squabble we’d had before, I knew that. But I wasn’t going to let him stop me now that I’d made my mind up. After all it had been pretty much of a wasted day so far and here was a chance to do something I could talk about for weeks afterwards, something exciting. It would have been hard to live myself if I’d turned it down. The only real question, the one I was being very careful not to ask myself, was whether I was as excited by Brett Reynold’s obvious interest in me as I was at the idea of flying in his plane.

Adjusting the helmet was no problem: trying to get into the flying suit was. It was cut for a man’s body, a big man, and I’m a short girl, yet the seams around my hips almost reached breaking strain; I had to go behind the wagon and take off my shorts before I could wriggle into the suit. The real problem was in front though. As much as I tugged at the zip, I couldn’t get it up past my breasts. Like my hips, they’ve always been too large for easy packaging. Eventually I had to go back to the men with everything hanging out over the zip and only the damp material of the tee-shirt between me and them. Not only that, but carrying my shorts in my hand as well.

Brett’s mouth twitched a fraction before he looked away at the horizon as I held the sides of the overalls together while Jeff pulled the zipper together with brute strength. It was a minor demonstration of gentlemanly modesty which ended as soon as Jeff wasn’t looking at him, because Brett’s eyes immediately fastened on my squashed tits with frank interest. Like Sylvester eyeing Granma’s canary, I thought, and hoping to find a way into the cage. If that was really what he hoping for he was in for a disappointment.

I watched in surprise as Brett knelt down behind one of the back wheels. There were three protruding metal legs that attached the wheel to the pod and in between them was a piece of metal about as long as my arm curved into a ‘C’ shape. It was apparently held onto the top leg by a clamp at each end, which he undid. Then he stood up and reclamped the ‘C’ onto one of the support arms of the control bar. I asked him what he was doing.

“Just fitting extensions to the control bar so I can steer from the back. You’ll have to sit in the front seat, Sandra, to keep the weight distribution right. The control bar will be in front of you but I’ll have my hands on these extensions to do the piloting. That’s what I like about these ultralights, everything is very simple. A control bar and a foot throttle and that’s about it.”

He bowed like a courtier and stretched out his hand towards the pod: “My lady, your sky carriage awaits.”

After all the trouble he’d gone to I couldn’t refuse to give it a try however nervous I felt. I wasn’t any more nervous than Jeff though, who watched Brett strapping me into the front seat with a kind of desperate look on his face as if I was going up in a space shuttle. Mind you, I don’t think I would have felt much different myself if I had been about to blast off. It was hard to believe that I was really going to go up into the sky in this thing. Brett held the helmet over my head and quietly talked to me as I smoothed my hair back.

“As soon as this is on, I’ll plug in the intercom cable and switch it on. All you’ll hear is static until I plug in as well. Nod your head if you’re OK and then I’ll untie the wing tip and straighten the wings. When the bar is horizontal in front of you just hold it steady while I get in the back. All clear?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Fine. I’ve pinned the front throttle so it can’t be worked. The only thing you have to worry about are the bars underneath your feet - they’re for steering the nose wheel, so don’t press on them when we’re taking off and landing. The rest of the time you can waggle them around as much as you like. OK?”

I nodded, and again after the helmet was on. It looked bulky but it was surprisingly light. I’d never worn one before, never even been on a motorbike because I thought they were dangerous. No wonder I held onto the control bar nervously when it settled over in front of me. I could feel my hands trembling on the rubber handgrips and then realized it wasn’t just me that was twitching but the wing as well, shivering and bobbing at the wind’s touch. I saw Brett speak to Jeff, and afterwards Jeff took off his own shirt and walked down the beach with it, off to one side on the soft sand. I wondered what he was doing. Then Brett came back with the corkscrew securing pin hanging by its lanyard from his wrist. He knelt down by the front of the pod, grinned up at me, put his hands on my knees and spread them wide apart.

I gasped in surprise, the noise muffled inside the helmet, and then found that he was bending forward to stow the pin away underneath my seat. Which was a totally innocent thing to do, maybe, but what wasn’t so innocent was where his knuckles brushed against me as he slipped the lanyard off his wrist. But again, it something that was over and done with before I had a chance to even let go of the control bar. It might even have been a genuine accident, but I didn’t think so. It was a clear message, as if I already needed one, about what Mr Brett Reynolds would like to do with Mrs Sandra Pearson if given even half a chance. Well, there was one thing about it, at least I was a lot safer from his advances in his plane than I would have been in his car. Uh!

I felt the pod settle down as he got into the back seat. The back ledge would probably be a better way of describing it, higher than the front seat and so close to it that Brett’s legs were stretched out on either side of me with my elbows brushing against his knees. Never again would I complain about economy class seats in passenger planes.

A moment later the engine started and everything began vibrating as though I was sitting in a massage chair. That wasn’t bad but even with the helmet on the engine noise was uncomfortably high. A hundred meters along the beach Jeff was standing still, holding his shirt up above his head. I realized that it was an indication of which way the wind was blowing.

My headphones clicked and I heard Brett’s voice very clearly: “OK, Sandra, I’ve got the control bar now. You’ll probably want to hold onto the sides of your seat to begin with. This damp sand will hold us back a little but we’ve got eighty horsepower pushing us and we’ll soon reach flying speed. We’ll take off about where Jeff is now. Is everything OK with you?”

I clutched the handgrips on either side of the seat and tried to swallow a lump of solid air down my dried out throat: “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good girl. Feet off the pedal bars and hands off the control bar for a moment or two. Apart from that relax and enjoy the views. . . ”

The engine roared even louder, the ultralight began moving, I held onto the arm grips with a death grip, we were moving faster, much faster, a small wave was breaking along the beach, toppling over into white water, Jeff was getting closer and closer, the vibration was getting worse - oh fuck, I must be mad to be here!

Suddenly the vibration stopped, the engine seemed a lot further away and I was looking down at Jeff’s upturned face. Then the control bar was pushed away from me and the nose of the pod lifted up towards the sky as if it were a rearing horse. I couldn’t help myself from looking down, to see the sea suddenly growing wider with the breaking waves along the edge of it like crinkled up tearings of white tissue paper.

“How are you feeling, Sandra?”

“Alright - I think.”

“OK, we’ll level out now, and fly straight on for a few minutes while you get used to things.”

Getting used to so many conflicting feelings was going to take longer than that. In one sense I felt totally exposed, with only the finger thick vertical support bar in front of me and the wind drumming against my overalls, yet behind the helmet’s faceplate there was a peaceful little world where I could talk to Brett without any effort at all. The wind seemed to be blowing away the noise of the engine as well, making a combined background noise which wasn’t really bothersome at all. I suppose it would have been a miserable experience on a cold day without thick clothing, but it had been a scorching forty degrees celsius down on the beach and the blast of moving air was as wonderfully cooling as Brett had promised it would be.

In another sense I was totally confined, by the straps, and by the control bar pressed close against my chest. In another way - a breath takingly marvelous way - I’d never felt so free in all my life. Who hasn’t been a kid dreaming of finding a way of flying like a bird? Not being shot through the sky miles high watching movies, but real flying, down around the tree tops and hurdling over hilltops with giant’s steps, being able to lift your eyes up to the distant horizons or down to something so close you feel you can reach out and touch it. Of course we’ve all felt like that, and most of us have grown up and forgotten the dream. And now, suddenly and totally without expecting it, I was living my dreams for real.

Out on my left were kilometers and kilometers of trees, and an occasional movement of something brightly colored scuttling underneath them. I was catching glimpses of the coastal highway between the tall trunks, or at least of the cars driving down it. On the right I could now see through the top of the sea, to dark patches with green stains behind them. It was puzzling until I realized that the dark patches were rocks just under the water with patches of seaweed growing where they were protected from the waves by the rocks. It seemed so strange that an area I thought I knew quite well looked so different from up here.

“How do you feel now, Sandra?”

“Pretty good.” I was surprised how calm I sounded.

“Not frightened?”

I thought about how to answer: “Yes, but I’m too busy looking around to think much about it.”

His chuckle came through the earphones: “Good answer. OK, we’ll turn around now and fly back over your husband. Give him a wave to let him know you’re OK and then we’ll head for Kilkenny Ponds.”

The turn was indeed frightening, at first, with the wing dipping over and the pod skidding around. Then I forgot about it as we dived back over the Suzuki and Jeff and I exchanged waves. Then another turn, but not so stomach churning now I had some idea of what to expect.

Brett started singing over the intercom.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh. . . ”

“OK, Sandra, we’ll go up higher now and follow the coast for a while. There’s something on the other side of the next headland I saw just before I landed that might interest you.”

When we went over the headland I looked down the sheer drop of a cliff face to where the sea was continually slapping against the land, and felt only curiosity at the odd feeling of looking down at birds flying, the stiff winged gulls whirling and turning along the cliff as if they were scraps of paper caught inside a willy-willy. Somehow it seemed that the height wasn’t bothering me, which was the last thing I’d expected.

“There you are, Sandra, down on the right. That’s something you don’t see ever day, not even up here.”

We were passing over the headland on the other side and where Brett was telling me to look was down in a corner of the sea between the cliffs and the beach. Something was moving in the shallow water, a shimmering cloud continually changing shape and flickering with sudden sparkles. Running in and out of the cloud were dark lean shapes which seemed to cut passages through it by their mere presence, the tiny individual slivers of silver which made up the cloud constantly closing ranks again behind the intruders as they moved on.

“What’s happening down there, Brett?”

“It’s sharks feeding off a school of sardines. Is school the right word for sardines? Or should it be a can of sardines?”

I laughed and he laughed with me.

“Hey, Sandra, check out that boat ahead.”

There was a high topped cabin cruiser anchored off the beach, a kilometer or so ahead. I thought how odd it was that the crew should be so close to a bunch of sharks in a feeding frenzy and not even know about it, while we could see so much more merely by being a couple of hundred meters higher up. As it turned out, I soon saw more than I’d expected, because Brent put us into other turn over the boat, and kept on turning, so the left wingtip seemed to be pointing straight down at the deck while the boat looked as if it were slowly rotating underneath us. It was an expensive looking boat and a couple were lounging on sun chairs at the back. They looked expensive too, in their own ways, he with his big pot belly, her with her blonde hair and good figure. It was easy to see these things because neither of them had a stitch on. Not that it seemed to bother them. The man casually waved his hand to us without moving from his seat.

“I told you there was something interesting here,” Brett said. “She’s nice but I’ll bet she doesn’t look as half as good as you would stretched in the raw.”

I decided not to respond to that remark. I saw the woman stand up and look up at us, a glass in one hand, the other one also waving.

“Oh, dear, she’s drooping a bit now. What about the guy, what do you think about him?” Brett laughed: “A real hunk, hey?”

“He hasn’t got anything I haven’t seen lots of times before.”

The man reached out his hand towards the woman’s bottom and began stroking it.

“Yeah,” Brett continued: “I think the lady with the natural blonde hair could say the same thing. I suppose we’d better leave them in peace now.” The control bar flicked over to one side to bring us out of the turn and the boat was whirled away out of my vision.

“OK, Sandra we’ll go along the beach for a couple more kilometers, climb a bit, then turn right. We’ll be going along a valley with a lot of cleared land that’s used for grazing cattle. I wouldn’t want to be low over the forest if the engine suddenly quit for any reason. Even a trike needs a little bit of space to land in.”

Trike - he’d used that word before. I supposed it was because of the three wheels underneath the pod. Again I could see more rocks, some of them sticking up out of the sea in streaks of white water, and then a small figure on a blue and white motorbike driving along the beach. The trike’s nose twitched up, and when we passed over the motorbike it was dwindling in size as we climbed higher. So many times I’d heard bike riders talking about the wonderful feeling of the wind in their faces as they rode their machines and now I understood what they were saying, but in a way even they didn’t know. Compared to a sky trike, a Harley-Davidson as a freedom machine was just a very efficient device for turning fuel into noise.

“Sandra, Eddie, says he’ll be on his way in about ten minutes.”

“What? What did you say, Brett?” I’d been staring down at the coastal highway and a queue of cars held up on the twisting road behind a slow moving semi-trailer.

“Well, to tell the truth, I have my mobile phone with me when I fly, plugged into the radio communications circuit. There was no point in trying it down on the beach, it wouldn’t have worked any better than yours did. But we’re fifteen kilometers closer to Kelkenny Ponds now and mobiles use line of sight radio waves, so the higher up you are the more range they have. I got through to Eddie first try and told him exactly where your husband is stuck.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” I said. This all sounded pretty suspicious to me.

“No, I thought it would simplify matters if I cut you out of the circuit. Anyway, he said to tell you that he’d phone the hospital and let them know you wouldn’t be coming in today - oh, yeah, and he said he’d make sure he set his VCR up to tape ‘Red Dwarf’ for Jeff in case they were late back.”

I turned all this over in my mind. One thing was sure, Brett must indeed have talked to Eddie to know what Jeff’s favorite TV comedy program was. It certainly hadn’t been mentioned on the beach. On the other hand: “Why would Eddie tell the hospital that I’m not coming to work today? We’re going to Kilkenny Ponds, aren’t we?”

“Oh, eventually, yes. In the meanwhile though I’ve told your friend that I’ve got an engine problem and I’ve got to land on the beach again.”

I was bewildered: “Have you got a problem?”

“I don’t have a problem in the world. I simply thought I’d spend some time feeling your tits. As fair payment for the ride, you might say.”

“What!”

“What!” he mimicked me. “Well, what you do first is to put your hands up on the control bar. Then I’ll put my right hand around underneath your right arm and grab your right tit.”

“No way!”

“OK, Sandra, then I’ll have to find another way of amusing myself.”

The next second the wing tipped over onto one side and the pod went into a horrifying spiral which convulsed my hands into clutching claws on the seat handles as I screamed in terror. It was far, far worse than being on a roller coaster. Finally, at long last, Brett stopped throwing the plane around.

“Now, Sandra, before I ask you again, I’d like you to look up to where the support bars are attached to the wing. You see that bolt there? That’s called the Jesus bolt, because that’s what both of us will be screaming if it breaks and we drop off the wing. Now, which would you rather have, some more strain imposed on the Jesus bolt, or my fingers around your nipples?”

It was not a decision I had to spend a lot of time making: “I don’t want the bolt to break.” I said breathlessly.

“Fine. An excellent career move. Now put your hands on the control bar and sit quietly like a good girl.”

I did as he wanted. Immediately his hand slipped around my body and touched the side of my right breast. It seemed to be as far as he could reach and it served him right - let him be as sick as a dog with frustration. I looked down at the pattern of fields and dirt roads below and practiced what I was going to say to the two timing shit once we were safely back on the ground.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve had in that front seat who’s got boobs so big I can’t reach them properly from the back.” Brett sounded proud of the fact. “I knew you were something special when I saw you from the air for the first time. I’ve just got to get my hands on them properly.”

“Brett, I’m a married woman,” I protested.

“That’s OK, I’m not going to steal you from your husband, I’m just going to borrow you for a bit, like a library book. What the hell, you must have acquired a few dirty finger marks on your virginal white pages somewhere along the line by now.”

“You’re a real bastard, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Sandra, but this thing is bigger than both of us. Your things are, anyway. OK, what I’m going to have to do is to unfasten my harness and lean forward so I can really get a grip on you. It’s no fun unless I do it with both hands, so you’ll have to fly the trike. No matter what happens, you hold the control bar level and everything will be fine. Of course if you fuck it up I’m liable to fall out.”

I was as mad as hell at his insolence: “Well, fall out then, you prick, and get yourself killed.”

I could hear him chuckling through the background hiss of the headphones: “Sandra, have you really thought about that? I mean, if I do fall out, you’re going to have seventy eight kilos of desperate man holding onto your tits like they’ve been held before. And even if you eventually shake me off it still leaves you up here on your own. How do you think you’d go at your first solo landing?”

“Oh shit!”

“Come on, Sandra, a nurse shouldn’t talk like that, a nurse should be caring and gentle towards those in need, and I need you. But before we start I want you to unzip the front of your overalls and then pull up that tee-shirt so I’ve got plenty of bare skin to play with. I know you’re not wearing anything else, I could see that on the beach. I don’t know how I managed not to get stiff just looking at you then.”

“Brett. . .” It was a forlorn wail of protest.

“Twenty seconds to get ready for me, Sandra. Otherwise we’ll give the Jesus bolt another strain test.”

“God!”

“No, I told you, just Jesus. Come on, let me see you doing something - or better still, undoing something.”

I took my hands away from the sides of the seat and tugged at the zip until it was down around my waist. Then I struggled to free myself from the tight folds of the flying suit until I was back where I’d started from, with both of my tits hanging out, though held together tightly and pushed up almost as high as my chin by the narrow opening of the garment. Just to make it even more fun the zipper teeth seemed to be doing a good job of trying to saw both of my boobs off.

“Come on, Sandra, what are you playing around at? You’ve got an impatient man back here!”

“Shut up! I’m being as quick as I can. . .”

The tee-shirt was a tight fit as well, and as I clawed it up inch by inch the loose folds collecting up underneath my throat fluttered wildly in the wind. We were passing over a farm house, a tractor moving between the sheds like a picture on toy box. I hadn’t realized how much higher we’d gone up since leaving the beach. It was cooler, too, even cold. When I lifted the last fold of my shirt up over my nipples the wind chilled them into a firming response. Brett was going to enjoy finding out about that!

“Sandra, surely you’re ready by now? Or do I have to shake you up again?”

“I’m ready, you whinging bastard!”

“Both of them hanging out and bare?”

“Yes,” I confessed.

He chortled with delight: “Don’t worry if they’re getting cold, I’ll soon warm them up for you. Now, put your hands on the control bar and do your best to keep the wings level with the horizon. Don’t worry, it’s easy to do.”

Maybe it was for him but I couldn’t imagine it being easy for me. Yet when I held the bar nothing much seemed to happen, except we began wobbling more than before. I wondered if Brett was still holding onto the extensions. Then I suddenly found out for a fact that his hands weren’t on the control bar because they were slipping around my arms. And this time they didn’t stop until his fingers were cupping both of my breasts and making my nipples respond as if they’d been touched with live wires from a battery. Yet for the first time in my life I was being felt by a strange pair of hands and hardly noticing them beyond an involuntary bodily response. What was taking up the really major part of my attention was stopping the trike from toppling out of the sky. My eyes were flicking from right to left and back again as I checked each wingtip, desperately trying to keep them balanced against the horizon. In comparison to the difficulty of doing that having Brett playing with my breasts was just an annoying distraction.

“Aaah, that’s nice. . . I never know which is best, flying, or getting a grip on a new pair of tits for the first time. When you can do both together that’s magic. And when they’re nice juicy water melons like yours, Sandra, that’s a real bonus.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to drive this thing!”

“Better do a good job then, sweetie, because if we pile in now in this position the accident investigation guys won’t need any black box to know what happened. They’ll put it on my tombstone - ‘He had too much cock in his cockpit’.”

I couldn’t prevent myself from giggling at that crack, which stopped abruptly as we hit an air pocket or something and the trike quivered like a puppy shaking off water. I squealed as the horizon dipped and began to slide around us.

“Don’t worry,” Brett told me calmly. “Push the bar forward - forward!” He emphasized the command by jerking my nipples away from me. It was quite painful but that was the least of my worries as I pressed as hard as I could against the bar. Things seemed to change, not that I was quite sure how, but we were still turning.

“Tilt the bar up to the right,” Brett ordered, reinforcing the command by scrunching my right tit in his hand as hard as he could. I gasped and did as he wanted, until we were flying properly. Somehow we’d turned completely around again though, because the sea was in front of us now.

“Handling techniques taught with sensory input reinforcement - works wonders, every time. Hey, Sandra, you’ve starting some heavy breathing. It’s about time you showed some reaction after all the effort I’ve put into getting you turned on.”

“I’m frightened, not excited!”

“Like hell. I told you you’d look better than that sheila on the boat when you were stripped off and now you’re wondering when it’s going to happen. What you’d like is for me to land as soon as I can and then give you a