04-16-2016, 12:01 AM
POST TO BE ERASED WITHIN 24 HOURS; I WON'T EXPLAIN WHY, BUT THIS MUST BE HERE NOW
At times I have implied a bare, unflattering societal picture of myself on the forum. Yet, there is this part of my life---> From high school wrestling awards onward, I would increasingly flourish, though I was late manifesting sexually. Once that was done, I possessed allurement. There were many unusually erotic encounters during my life, not the least of which involved Susan (my wife). Anyone of these stories were flavorful, complex, and uniquely titillating.
Out of college, I secured a permanent substitute job in the largest Cleveland inner city high school. The nationally reknowned Glenville racial riots had ended a few years prior in that impoverished district. I immediately became assistant wrestling coach, and I had generally good rapport with the black males.
Susan, just out of college, was also teaching there when I arrived. Susan, far and away, was the most beautiful, voluptuous, and sought after female I would ever know, and I have rubbed shoulders with Pamela Anderson [TV Baywatch (pic below to give an idea)]. Susan was in college at age 17. She was smart, poised, witty, shy but commanding, and sexually precocious. Susan exuded classy sensuality without trying. Her physical beauty and 5' 7" figure with measurements of 37/23/36 were gorgeous to the eye. I only have some paper photos, but would not post anything here that way regardless.
In my first persistent approach, Susan agreed to date me, and I would be the first and only of at least a score of male teachers who had unsuccessfully asked her out. Our cohabitation came quickly. That did not go unnoticed at the high school as we arrived each day together in her Buick Skylark.
I once mentioned this. Susan, at one point early on, wanted to end the relation because I was not a suitable marital prospect. She was forcing the initiative on me to leave. I would pack my clothes; when I was ready to walk out her door, we would hug goodbye. This occurance inevitably warped into a sex ritual with Susan on top, beating me because I had nestled my face between her tits to find a wanting nipple, thus aborting my departure.
Imagine, a sexy female flaunting her generous tits (quite as depicted above) and wielding power. Susan tortured me in an excruciating tease while riding in coitus, where when I succumbed to my desire and tried to suck her tits, she slapped me senseless. When I would keep my head still, Susan would stare me down to let me know she was fully in control. She always slapped me once more hard for reinforcement. Keeping the same stare, she would wordlessly press me with her gaze, and I utterly succumbed to her ownership. This communication was surreal, and I would literally feel a twinge of my penis in surrender.
Then she would torment me by grazing her nipples across my mouth. If my head would rise, it would be banged to the floor and I would be slapped again. I would cry deleriously, but not from being slapped. No, it was from the primal denial of her nipple brought to my mouth and pulled away purposefully. Susan guided me to a trance where my lips would part involuntarily; she would put her nipple inside my mouth only to cruelly withdraw until I was hysterically distraught.
Susans was very instinctual about when to give up her tit too, and she would become forgiving and maternal. With Susan's nipple in my mouth, my tears would stop, and I would draw in deep spastic intakes of breath between uncontrollable snivels. My greed for her tit was insatiable.
Susan would tenderly stroke my face and sooth me with her soft shushing.
She made me secure and to let me know she loved me. Then her shh, shh, shh's quickened in sync with the rhythm of her body until we were violently engulfed. The tremendous orgasm was always simultaneous, and really, it was as lurid and as intense as it gets. Obscene, I know.
This silent sado-masochistic act would become more pronounced and brutal each of about nine times, until she actually made me leave. We were together again about a month later after I was nearly killed in a police chase car crash. Susan would never slap me again.
The dominant disposition became alternate; there were times before our marriage that Susan was on her knees begging for conciliation in our numerous separations.
For my two year duration at the high school, I was in an optimum social situation as a reproductive male, and without any question I was the most physically touched man there. In my position as substitute, the absentee teacher had occasion with me to personally inquire about their classes when returning. Many of the females flirted and sidled to me. Their gestures were sometimes intimate if I was open, and there were a few not so subtle passes.
I put a wall between myself and the black female students. Still, a crazed girl once sat herself on my lap, arms around, and completely engulfed me in passion. She was literally in tears, begging me to see her, to *** her, handing a note with where and when to meet. It was a soulful, utterly desperate plea. Two of her friends dragged her away from me in delirium.
During summertime apartment building renovating jobs those two summers, I had a couple of noteable affairs.
Then, in a supplemental pizza delivery job that lasted a month, I had occasion to decline a bizarre mother-daughter proposition. It was not unusual for customers to exchange money for their pizza inside a doorway and engage cordially. A few weeks later, a young wife proceeded to unbuttoned her blouse, and told me she was going to teach me how to kiss. She taught me a whole lot more than that /LAUGH!
The restaurant owner feared I had met harm, so the police came knocking at her door a couple hours later...
(No need to mention I was fired, excepting that over a decade later, I coincidentally went to another of the owner's restaurants with Susan. He recognized me, and made a huge smile and began chatting with us. He was effusive and brought us complimentary coctails. I told Susan of the episode for the first time. I relate this affair because of my fondness of the fact the woman had cuckolded her husband who was away. Cuckolding is a great humiliation fetish.)
Susan herself was HOT in every sense, and we had sex anywhere at anytime. On school lunchbreak, Susan sometimes would pull me to the back of her classroom to have me suck her tits and finger her. When she moaned, and especially in orgasm, I think the young female math teacher with her desk to that wall of the adjoining room, was privy to it all.
One day this girl approaches me in the hall with explicit detailed instructions to come to her home some evening; I was to enter an always unlocked side door, come in, and take her to (or find her in) an upstairs bedroom, and ravish her. Nothing was left to my imagination. From address, to entry and purpose, and even her exact bedroom location.. it was all spelled out for me. It had taken every fiber of gumption for her to approach me like this in her one minute rush. Her adrenalin had to be surging, and I saw that she walked away from me somewhat in shame. This was a few months after my car crash. With Susan, and also being without my own car, nothing happened (also I wasn't a playboy).
Susan had three younger sisters. They were popular, nice looking girls-- each the high school homecoming queen. It took all of me to operate with my brains and not my dick dealing with their advances throughout the years at various gatherings.
Concerning my family, Susan complained how all my four sisters doted on me. My older brother looked up to me. He filmed some of my college wrestling matches, and both his two sons became state wrestling champions.
I won't expand, but I was largely directive/influential in the course of lives of those in contact with mine. Also, excepting during a couple of the teaching years, I worked for myself and no one else, and this included a decade betting of betting thoroughbred racehorses as my livelihood, and fifteen years in my own house painting business.
I am working on telekinesis using a marble in conjunction with gazing to generate youth, and possible shapeshifting later. I think serloco loses his marbles because he cannot keep them centered in the tonal/ jk / lol. Still, I had written a piece to the effect of spirituality being grounded in the tonal. I can move effectively from the tonal station. I am trained to be grounded, and am positioned to defy death. I will work the dreaming art to make my commands more fluid.
LAUGH
Oh my, I never dreamed life could be so much fun.
SEX HAS BEEN TOO DE-EMPHASIZED IN THE WARRIORS WAY. I AM MAKING A STATEMENT !
POST WILL BE ERASED SHORTLY TO RESPECT UNWANTED FLIRTATION WITH FORUM POLICY
At times I have implied a bare, unflattering societal picture of myself on the forum. Yet, there is this part of my life---> From high school wrestling awards onward, I would increasingly flourish, though I was late manifesting sexually. Once that was done, I possessed allurement. There were many unusually erotic encounters during my life, not the least of which involved Susan (my wife). Anyone of these stories were flavorful, complex, and uniquely titillating.
Out of college, I secured a permanent substitute job in the largest Cleveland inner city high school. The nationally reknowned Glenville racial riots had ended a few years prior in that impoverished district. I immediately became assistant wrestling coach, and I had generally good rapport with the black males.
Susan, just out of college, was also teaching there when I arrived. Susan, far and away, was the most beautiful, voluptuous, and sought after female I would ever know, and I have rubbed shoulders with Pamela Anderson [TV Baywatch (pic below to give an idea)]. Susan was in college at age 17. She was smart, poised, witty, shy but commanding, and sexually precocious. Susan exuded classy sensuality without trying. Her physical beauty and 5' 7" figure with measurements of 37/23/36 were gorgeous to the eye. I only have some paper photos, but would not post anything here that way regardless.
In my first persistent approach, Susan agreed to date me, and I would be the first and only of at least a score of male teachers who had unsuccessfully asked her out. Our cohabitation came quickly. That did not go unnoticed at the high school as we arrived each day together in her Buick Skylark.
I once mentioned this. Susan, at one point early on, wanted to end the relation because I was not a suitable marital prospect. She was forcing the initiative on me to leave. I would pack my clothes; when I was ready to walk out her door, we would hug goodbye. This occurance inevitably warped into a sex ritual with Susan on top, beating me because I had nestled my face between her tits to find a wanting nipple, thus aborting my departure.
Imagine, a sexy female flaunting her generous tits (quite as depicted above) and wielding power. Susan tortured me in an excruciating tease while riding in coitus, where when I succumbed to my desire and tried to suck her tits, she slapped me senseless. When I would keep my head still, Susan would stare me down to let me know she was fully in control. She always slapped me once more hard for reinforcement. Keeping the same stare, she would wordlessly press me with her gaze, and I utterly succumbed to her ownership. This communication was surreal, and I would literally feel a twinge of my penis in surrender.
Then she would torment me by grazing her nipples across my mouth. If my head would rise, it would be banged to the floor and I would be slapped again. I would cry deleriously, but not from being slapped. No, it was from the primal denial of her nipple brought to my mouth and pulled away purposefully. Susan guided me to a trance where my lips would part involuntarily; she would put her nipple inside my mouth only to cruelly withdraw until I was hysterically distraught.
Susans was very instinctual about when to give up her tit too, and she would become forgiving and maternal. With Susan's nipple in my mouth, my tears would stop, and I would draw in deep spastic intakes of breath between uncontrollable snivels. My greed for her tit was insatiable.
Susan would tenderly stroke my face and sooth me with her soft shushing.
She made me secure and to let me know she loved me. Then her shh, shh, shh's quickened in sync with the rhythm of her body until we were violently engulfed. The tremendous orgasm was always simultaneous, and really, it was as lurid and as intense as it gets. Obscene, I know.
This silent sado-masochistic act would become more pronounced and brutal each of about nine times, until she actually made me leave. We were together again about a month later after I was nearly killed in a police chase car crash. Susan would never slap me again.
The dominant disposition became alternate; there were times before our marriage that Susan was on her knees begging for conciliation in our numerous separations.
For my two year duration at the high school, I was in an optimum social situation as a reproductive male, and without any question I was the most physically touched man there. In my position as substitute, the absentee teacher had occasion with me to personally inquire about their classes when returning. Many of the females flirted and sidled to me. Their gestures were sometimes intimate if I was open, and there were a few not so subtle passes.
I put a wall between myself and the black female students. Still, a crazed girl once sat herself on my lap, arms around, and completely engulfed me in passion. She was literally in tears, begging me to see her, to *** her, handing a note with where and when to meet. It was a soulful, utterly desperate plea. Two of her friends dragged her away from me in delirium.
During summertime apartment building renovating jobs those two summers, I had a couple of noteable affairs.
Then, in a supplemental pizza delivery job that lasted a month, I had occasion to decline a bizarre mother-daughter proposition. It was not unusual for customers to exchange money for their pizza inside a doorway and engage cordially. A few weeks later, a young wife proceeded to unbuttoned her blouse, and told me she was going to teach me how to kiss. She taught me a whole lot more than that /LAUGH!
The restaurant owner feared I had met harm, so the police came knocking at her door a couple hours later...
(No need to mention I was fired, excepting that over a decade later, I coincidentally went to another of the owner's restaurants with Susan. He recognized me, and made a huge smile and began chatting with us. He was effusive and brought us complimentary coctails. I told Susan of the episode for the first time. I relate this affair because of my fondness of the fact the woman had cuckolded her husband who was away. Cuckolding is a great humiliation fetish.)
Susan herself was HOT in every sense, and we had sex anywhere at anytime. On school lunchbreak, Susan sometimes would pull me to the back of her classroom to have me suck her tits and finger her. When she moaned, and especially in orgasm, I think the young female math teacher with her desk to that wall of the adjoining room, was privy to it all.
One day this girl approaches me in the hall with explicit detailed instructions to come to her home some evening; I was to enter an always unlocked side door, come in, and take her to (or find her in) an upstairs bedroom, and ravish her. Nothing was left to my imagination. From address, to entry and purpose, and even her exact bedroom location.. it was all spelled out for me. It had taken every fiber of gumption for her to approach me like this in her one minute rush. Her adrenalin had to be surging, and I saw that she walked away from me somewhat in shame. This was a few months after my car crash. With Susan, and also being without my own car, nothing happened (also I wasn't a playboy).
Susan had three younger sisters. They were popular, nice looking girls-- each the high school homecoming queen. It took all of me to operate with my brains and not my dick dealing with their advances throughout the years at various gatherings.
Concerning my family, Susan complained how all my four sisters doted on me. My older brother looked up to me. He filmed some of my college wrestling matches, and both his two sons became state wrestling champions.
I won't expand, but I was largely directive/influential in the course of lives of those in contact with mine. Also, excepting during a couple of the teaching years, I worked for myself and no one else, and this included a decade betting of betting thoroughbred racehorses as my livelihood, and fifteen years in my own house painting business.
I am working on telekinesis using a marble in conjunction with gazing to generate youth, and possible shapeshifting later. I think serloco loses his marbles because he cannot keep them centered in the tonal/ jk / lol. Still, I had written a piece to the effect of spirituality being grounded in the tonal. I can move effectively from the tonal station. I am trained to be grounded, and am positioned to defy death. I will work the dreaming art to make my commands more fluid.
LAUGH
Oh my, I never dreamed life could be so much fun.
SEX HAS BEEN TOO DE-EMPHASIZED IN THE WARRIORS WAY. I AM MAKING A STATEMENT !
POST WILL BE ERASED SHORTLY TO RESPECT UNWANTED FLIRTATION WITH FORUM POLICY