Can’t Stop

I can’t stop me

I filled you

Spent you

Played inside you

Smear around

Spread you

Licked you

Take a deep breath

Can’t leave you alone

I play

You resonate

You moisten

I’m encouraged


You’re flowing

Cock in hand

We play



A parting

A push

An entry

An engulfing

We fuck



The Easter Bunnies Cumming


It was a different time. It was a younger time. It was a cumming of age time. One might say cumming was on mine and Rene’s mind all the time. Sensitivities were different. Knowledge of many things were different and learned slowly, intimately, often with great effort and reticence often brought about by the shyness of youth and reservations of opening up to the ignorance we wallowed in.


The major characters in this moment of time were myself, Rene, a lovely though politically insensitive black and white rabbit fur jacket, and a big plush pink bunny suit. All hopped down memories bunny trail to fatefully meet smack dab in the middle of the cosmic basket of my life.


Rene loved that fur jacket. Her long straight blond hair framed her delicate features and came to rest pleasingly upon her accented fur covered shoulders. It soon became a favorite amorous prop of hers.  The jacket would end perfectly above her heart shaped derriere. Her slim waist and sometime incongruously bare midriff despite the weather’s necessitating a fur jacket were beside the point. Once we were snuggled in our bunny hutch she hopped about in tiny lace panties and furry bunny jacket. This tableau often had me bursting early and often. My own personal fears, though Rene would fulsomely claim otherwise, was way too early way too often. But that chapter of irrational youthful exuberance was drawing to a close as spring time approached.


Still memories lingered back to the Christmas morning when I gifted dear Rene with that bunny jacket. She actually squealed with delight at un-boxing this furry delight. She hugged it tight to her firm young bosom until her wintry robe fell to the floor and the jacket took over her short teddy nightie.


She found a full length mirror and preened to her heart’s content while I enjoyed the view with rising anticipatory erectus. Her long legs exaggerated by the hefty furry enrapture was an optical illusion to my roiling limbic system’s delight.


Soon her legs enwrapped me as I licked her quivering bunny snatch while my eyes peer over her blond fringed bunnies mound as she hugged my primitive gift of animal fur close her her pitter pattering heart. I could feel her heart thrumming through my tongue as It glided hippity hoppity through her flowery flowing furrows. But when I pierced her molten snatch I burst forth almost immediately in my heated lustful excitement.


Far from appearing disappointed, she covered me in sweet kisses and affections until it was time for us to make our holiday rounds.


As I drove to her parents house for our big Christmas dinner Rene was unusually snuggly next to me crowding my end of the long front bench seat of my big ol Bonneville. She felt warm and soft next to me as the big V-8 engines heat exchange kept the car interior toasty. Good thing because she worked my stick out of my holiday suit and played with my four on the floor intently and lovingly all over the river and through the woods.  By the time we pulled up to grandmother’s house her sweet blond head dropped to my lap and swallowed me whole forthwith.. Because of my highly charged state from her holiday drive handy work it just took a couple of bobs in her tasty mouth while I caressed her bunny fur covered back for me to cum copiously in her mouth. She swallowed me all up deftly leaving nary a drop on my holiday finery. As she reclined back resplendent in her fur she brought to mind Guinevere in her winter coach being delivered to King Arthur’s Court in the movie Camelot. She was every bit as fine as Julie Christie as she straightened her make up in her compact mirror. She smiled sweetly and asked slyly, “Ready for Mummy and Daddy?”


After the grilling from her family and their marked disapproval of me spending my money on such an extravagance of a fur jacket, bunny or not, we had a good meal , gift exchange, and libations. A good time was had by all.


Fatigued and on our way to my family’s Christmas Night light supper and gift exchange Rene was more subdued during that drive, but just as lovely. My parents being older than hers I think she felt more sexually repressed in their expectant presence as only more antiquated  generations can deliver.


So when we arrived at my place with bellies full and plum tuckered out from the day we fell into sweet dreams in each others arms with little more than a lick and a promise of future follies.


It was the next few months of cold winter snuggling that made me realize that the gift of animal pelts still cut deep in the thoroughly modern psyche of young woman of that time. Or at least it clearly hit Rene right smack dab in her libido.


To say the least, her interest in sex was altered. Frequency, variety in locations, positions, amazing feats of daring do, not to mention trying new things too. Was it the jacket? Was it the times? Was it her growth as a woman? I will never know. All I know is our sexual detente menu went from me cajoling, coaxing, and sometimes down right pleading; to her staking her claim as a full appetite sexually wanton being.


I was in heaven.


She would show up at my door at all times. The fur covering her usually scantily clad top with either hip hugger jeans  poised perfectly on her full womanly hips below. Sometime a peasant skirt with nothing else underneath was the temptation dujour. When weather started to warm the fur coat was only thing between the world and her sweet swelling protruding pink nippled breasts. Of what joy it was to unwrap her on those occasions.


Or I would come home to find her curled up on the couch wearing only brief black panties, fur jacket open enough to tease the swell and curve of her champagne glass sized boobs. We would spend hours petting, fondling, fingering, kissing, and  licking each other. Sadly even with all this action, the excitement of my newly unbridled nymph, when I entered her what little control I had once had was gone and I would cum buckets full of rich creamy jizz deep inside my beloved. She was always discreet about her orgasms, but now they were shivers at best from my penetrating efforts. Still she seemed satisfied from our oral and sleight of hand communions.


Of course the more I tried to not cum  it seemed the briefer our copulation encores became. Still every chance she would service me anywhere with her sweet rose bud mouth and I would slather adoration between her sweet gapped thighs at every opportunity.


Winter turned to spring. I was out killing time at second hand shops working on my fashion sense and searching for items that would fuel Rene’s new found delight in playing dress up fuck fuck games.


There it was.


A big pink faux fur bunny suit. Resplendent with floppy ears. Buck teeth. A fluffy white tail and a very thoughtful back trap door and discreet front button fly. I knew what I had to do. Being ever cautious about garments from second hand shops my first stop was a dry cleaner. After all the inner tag of the Bugs suit said dry clean only and the little woman behind the counter did not bat an eye when I presented her with her task at hand. Clearly she had stranger ducks on her counter than this pink bunny suit. It would be ready the Thursday before Easter. Perfect.


Thursday after work I made the bunny stop at the dry cleaners and went straight home. Rene was coming over per our plans, but I was not sure exactly when. All I had to do was strip down , shower, bunny up and wait. I was in my favorite chair waiting when I heard her key in the door. When she opened the door she looked like she had just stepped out of the iconic scene from “Pretty Woman” Knee high heeled black boots, booty short black mini skirt, topped off with her black and white rabbit fur jacket. For some reason she had also curled her hair into big hair territory. This was not your mama’s Rene from down the block. She was a full tilt fantasy. I could see her pause for a moment. At first she seemed unsure about being presented with a big pink bunny sitting where she expected to see me. I was not about to wait around for introductions. I stood and my stiff steely cock popped right out of the open button fly of bunny-land. With a glance she recognized me.


“Well hello Easter Bunny.”


As I made my approach her hand instinctively reached for the matter bobbing between us. I deftly sidestepped and smoothed her bunny fur cover shoulders and led her to our table. My hands slid between her open jacket front and smoothed her sides with just a glancing caress of her breasts as I took her by her hips and bent her over the table. A brief journey up her mini skirt found her panties which I pulled down too her ankles in one fell swoop. I pried the filly pantie from one booted ankle but purposely left it loitering around her other ankle for aesthetic effect. With her skirt up over her perfect heart shaped behind I ran my hands over the soft luscious bunny fur on her back as I entering her deep with nary a how do ya do. She was molten, viscous, and very ready. My hands moved under her coat know and found her delicious erect nipples while I cupped her perfectly formed tits in my greedy bunny gloved hand. I think the glove fabric rubbing her tender tits made her gasps and I felt an initial pleasure spasm around my still fully immersed cock. Her snatch was needy and clutching as I pulled out. Next thrust gave way gradually as if her cunt was trying to feel every slick throbbing measure of my intrusion deep down into her sweet swale swatch of heaven. Her distended clitoris caressed my balls each time I paused my plunge deep inside and stirred her steamy rabbit hole. Being inside Rene was glorious and I would dawdle deep with in her, stirring my prick inside as to whip her into a frothy frenzy. At first I felt her fingers playing with her clit from below. Then as I stirred the pot some more I felt them cradle my balls as they worked with her furrows. So focused was I on her moans and quivering machinations below I had lost all track of the fine furious fucking we were doing. I was in the moment. I was in Rene and all other matters dissipated. Then she came like never before. Soaking me, the table and the bunny suit. Never had she made such a ruckus while we humped.


I still had yet to say a word, but I know my moans were in harmony with hers. She took me by my still hard and unspent cock and led me to the bed. She fell on her back, the coat was open her blouse was unbuttoned, by which I mean all the buttons were now gone in my frenzied frolic, revealing to my eyes those perfect breasts and nipples to be fondled. This time with visual guidance more precision was achieved. She wailed as her feet found my shoulders with the white pantie flying from one leg as a sign of complete surrender.  I stumbled in deep from above. She came again leaving her eyes glassy. She began talking incoherent bunny filth about filling her basket, tweaking her pink jelly beans harder, make my peeps go squish, and ram that big white chocolate bunny into me all the way to its big clumsy feet.


“Oh thank you Easter Bunny!” she moaned to which we parroted our favorite Cadbury eggs commercial with a hearty ”Buck Buck.”


Laughing we came again. We collapsed on the bed. She ripped my bunny head off and covered me in deep passionate kisses for the rest of that weekend. When we weren’t fucking like rabbits of course.  


Why hiding under a big pink bunny suit would help me out of my premature dilemma is another one of life’s many mysteries. Thank you Easter Bunny indeed.


First drafts may not be the best drafts but they sure are fun. P.S.

TMI Tuesday: January 8, 2019

He’s Under Here


Believe Me


New Year. New Hopes. And another new TMI Tuesday. Cheers!

Fill in the blanks.

1. I want to repeat then pete again .
2. I want to lose this ancient cockroach in a sombrero named Don Brew Ha Ha that keeps whispering wisdom in my ear.
3. I want to gain insight into why this ancient cockroach in a sombrero named Don Brew Ha Ha keeps whispering wisdom in my ear.
4. I want to enjoy the moment.
5. I want to savor the moment after.
6. I need more moments.

Bonus: I will succeed in understanding what this ancient cockroach in a sombrero named Don Brew Ha Ha is telling me.


How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

December 4

Oh my God. Everything was so warm and wet and wonderful down there. I never felt so delicious. It was like a warm lapping surf writhing it’s way up my spine and all over my body. Branching out in squivers, quivers and trembling nerve ends. I looked down and there was Donna’s face buried between my upraised knees. But what was she doing down there moving her head side to side like that. I just know I did not want her to stop. Above Donna’s upraised rump was Robin. A fierce smirk on her face as she seemingly pumped into Donna. But with what?  Her small flat chest was glowing with red splotches from her exertions. She had one hand on each of Donna’s butt cheeks and spread them roughly on each forward thrust. Why she was mounting Donna just as I had mounted Rene last night.




I awoke soaking in the tub. I had drawn the bath after my last journal entry and climbed in while she was still snoozing in bed. I must have dozed off. Now I turned my head and there was Rene’s sweet blond fringed muff right at eye level. I peeked up to her smiling down at me. Her straight blond hair fringing a great big smile and flowed over her small breasts.


“Look at you.” she proclaimed. “Fucked me silly the past two days and still ready for more.” I followed her eyes to where she was looking  and I as indeed in up periscope mode.


She poured her favorite bath salts in the tub, I ran more hot water and she joined me. We soaped, played, and teased ourselves clean. We repaired to the bed where I did not fuck her silly. I licked her silly instead. As my tongue moved through her delicately scented pink curtained snatch  the scent of bath salts gave way to the more powerful Ode de Rene. She writhed and clutched the dampening sheets as she came with the force of a young blond volcano.


She almost seemed ashamed when she regained her senses, but then whispered in my ear, “Pooh. We need to talk.”


“You have to get back in school now. Don’t get me wrong. Your body is muscular and sexy from this manual labor, and I swear even your thingy seems bigger. But I am thinking about the future. Your future. Our future.”


My answer was easy. “Tomorrow is Monday. I’ll let Sheldon know I am going back to school and he will need to replace me full time.  I’ll offer to work part time around my school schedule. But my degree will be number one.”


Rene hugged me, kissed me, straddled me and rode upon me harder and longer than she ever had. Watching her sweat and toil as she feverishly worked her big ass up and down the length of my “bigger thingy” made me sure the future was as bright as could be. As I played with and tweaked her stiff protruding nipples that tipped her small round breasts she made noises I had never heard issue from her delicate slender throat, and her final violent climax of the weekend ended in a howling cacophony of yelps and yabbers as well as a few sobs and tears.


So today I marched into Sheldon’s office. Sheldon needed to know first. He was the owner and one of the few original people from when I began working there and he deserved to hear it from me first. I gave notice. He thanked me for the longer than usual lead time so he could replace me, made his usual pitch that he liked me, I was a hard worker, an asset, and I always had a future in his company in the sales department if school did not work out. We shook hands and I agreed to train my replacement. Sheldon said “Great, because we got so big so fast I have no idea what goes on back there in the warehouse anymore.”


He had that right. He had no idea.


When I walked out of the his office all the women were clucking like hens. Office and shop workers alike.


Ms. Spain,  Karen was having a baby.


Oh my.

Last Rides of Samhain

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To say bewilderment was upon me would be an understatement. Herself unburdened by the journal she now had two hands free to roam. After all, idle hands are you know who’s playground. Tami untucks my formerly girded loins giving those deft little fingers of hers unbridled access. JoJo just watches. I lean back and feel the pleasure rising up my spine like the mercury in an old school thermometer heading for a fever of a hundred and three. Tami’s little hands work there way around my seething cock, The Leather nun leaves her full leather habit on, but lifts her skirts as she mounts the machine. Full white thighs on display glimmer under the single bulb. Memories of my youthful clinging to full thick womanly thighs and the scent of an office chair leather wash over me in a tsunami of lust.

My senses spilleth over with her revelation of shimmering black bush amid blinding white thighs. Tami ‘s hands and JoJo’s eyes upon me are but grace notes in this symphony of sensations. The bush revealing prominent pink nubbin and cleaved delight spread to admit the business end of the Luddites Lament Machine and disappears into The Leather Nun. The pink gash is spread and Annie’s clitoris seems to sneer at me as it had so many years ago. From this distance I can see it throb. No. I feel it throb.

I watch as The Nun falls forward to allow full contact with the studded vibrating pad. Tami’s hand becomes as slick as Annie’s cunt. I am in Tami’s little fist inside Annie. Annie’s blue eyes become pale as she leans closer to me riding the machine as if it were a broom. I am sliding down in my chair. I am melting . I am dizzy. Grand mal dizzy. Swallow my tongue discombobulated. Little Bo Peep supports me cupping my right buttock. Tami clutches my shaft still stroking all lubed to a lather, but slips her other hand under and cups my balls. I feel the lube collecting in her testicle cradling hand. I am panting. Palpitating in a whirlwind of senseless senselessness.

A mouth engulfs my cock. Annie’s blue eyes look up at me just the way they did during every office blow job she’d blessed me with. Free of her mouth now her pointed tongue plays on the altar of my volcanic pre-cum tipped lingam. Her eyes watch, her tongue plays. Gratitude washes over me as her saliva slowly seeps into and over my length. My cocks head is near bursting. Little Bo Peeps finger tests my anus.

I missed a transition somewhere amid The Leather Nuns oral tease. I do not remember her dismount. I will never forget Brunhilda’s mount.

“Ho Jo To Ho!” I hear echoing up from her in the rafters.

Brunhilde was riding the machine in all her corpulent Teutonic splendor. With spear raised high above her head I had no idea who was running the controls on the machine for her. From the sounds it was making I believe all dials were set to eleven. Dynamo hum was deafening.

Yodeling like an operatic Valkyrie her songs are not angelic. Her flesh was prodigious, set in motion upon the groaning machine. All her flesh is quivering, layer upon layer was kinetic. Her potential was bursting forth out of armored breastplate revealing tattooing so extensive it was armor in itself. Layers of intricately drawn feathers and runes that had been hidden for years were revealed upon her expansive breasts, curved stomach perched upon prodigious tattooed thighs and all was motion. Ms. Spain was being magnificently fucked from here to Valhalla. Miraculously I am fucking Brunhilde’s cunt. Annie’s mouth. Tami’s fist. All for once. All at once. JoJo’s finger goes second knuckle deep up my butt. For all of time. Everything blinks black. Immediately blinks white.

I am looking up at bare rafters. I am on my back. I am on the feather-bed platform. I am being mercilessly fucked. I should be looking up Brunhilde’s back side. My dead reckoning tells me I should be getting a gander at voluminous woman back side in reverse cowgirl fashion , But lo and behold it is no longer the tattooed once and former Karen dressed as a fabled warrior. I see a glowing translucent blond. So white as to be near transparent. Still reverse cowgirl, but I immediately recognize a ghostly Cathy. The late Cathy. White spectral Cathy. I am being ridden by a woman who has been relieved of her mortal coil for a decade or so, but I know her heart shaped rump. I feel myself inside her. I see the swaying half globes of her breasts revealed along her side. Under her arms. I am in the humming electric shaking shivering vibrating throes of prolonged and astounding orgasm. Not spurting spending fiery flow of seed but quivering rippling rolling orgasm. It goes on wave after wave after wave. I am undone. I long to see Cathy’s beatific countenance smile back at me. Mount me face to face but I am helplessly cumming apart.

When I wake I am a damp, spent, frayed, shredded wrung out clammy wash towel sprawled next to a content as a kitten curled up JoJo. We are in her bedroom. I see a Journal on the nightstand. But I need more sleep, and fall back into forgetful fitful slumber.

Tomorrow’s another day.

Ellen Joy

Ricky and I were out in the parking lot playing our version of handball. Really it was just slapping a tennis ball against the factory wall and keeping a pseudo type of tennis score. Boy it was hot that day. One of those steamy August days in Chicago. As usual Donna and Annie were sitting on the shipping dock watching us spend our lunch hour running around working up a sweat. At nineteen years old neither Ricky nor I had a clue why these two 40 something women would watch us so intently, or had any idea of the thoughts that were going through their heads. Call us naive.

We all worked for an advertising specialty company, Ricky and I were shipping clerks, and Annie and Donna were engravers, silk screeners, and general production staff. It was a small company run by Sheldon Roth.

Ricky and I were in full lather, our shirtless muscled young man bodies running and pounding the tennis ball into the wall when Ellen Joy, the freelance artist sauntered out onto the loading dock. Ellen Joy was in her thirties, the Bohemian artist type sporting a floppy sun hat, a sheer peasant blouse over tight jean shorts and lace up sandals. Not usual business attire, but with a long relationship as company artist casual was acceptable. Ellen Joy was a five foot five enigma to me. She had straight black hair  cropped in a 1970’s feather cut with bangs that swept seductively over her left eye. Perfect olive skin, well formed breasts that stood up proudly in the often bra-less state she sported under sheer white blouses. You could detect large brown nipples under the fabric. With my limited experience of skinny blondes and red headed Irish girls, those nipples were an endless focus of my attention. Ellen Joy knew that. She would always give  me a big smile with her prominent white teeth couched in soft full lips as she bounced through the dock on her way to meet with Sheldon. But that was only a preview of the best part. It was the full round buttocks that would wiggle through the loading dock that would grab Ricky,s and my eyes like super glue when she would pass through.


On this day she sent a big smile in our direction and slowly looked us up and down with a leer that I never knew a woman could pitch,  punctuated with a wink in our direction, Since it was at a distance Ricky and I would argue the rest of the afternoon over who it was meant for.

First thing next morning Sheldon had an assignment for me. Apparently Ellen Joy had forgotten the product sample she needed for her design work and I was to deliver it to her studio at precisely eleven AM. The time was made clear to me , twice.

I was at Ellen Joys door at eleven on the dot. Ellen Joy’s studio was actually her apartment so I was a little shy, but very curious to see how a thirty year old Bohemian lived. The door opened and there was Ellen Joy, hair wet and blacker than usual but still seductively straight and provocatively swept over her left eye.  She had a blue satin robe loosely draped over her fragrant freshly showered body. I stammered a few apologies for being too early even though I knew I was not.  She put me at ease quickly by waving me on in and closing the door behind her. The view of her round booty was exceptional in that rather sheer robe as she led me into the room. When she turned to receive my delivery her robe was perched perilously close to slipping beyond those extraordinary areolas I had fantasized about endlessly.

With product in her hand held up to the light of the large apartment windows she gave me a tantalizing view of her bodies silhouette under the flowing robe. My youthful exuberance let out an audible sigh.

When Ellen Joy turned she said “I am going to need your assistance for a few moments. Can you pitch in for the company?”

“Of course,” I said quickly and eagerly not really knowing what I was agreeing to, but since the front of the robe was now revealing the dark brown edge of one of those brown desire disks that tipped a goodly portion of Ellen Joy’s left boob, I would have agreed to almost anything at that point.

“I need you to photograph something to reference as a font style I am thinking of using. I have tried but I cannot get focus or proper angle for my needs.” With that she handed me a simple camera. I was momentarily disappointed that  she really needed me to do something rather than the sex fantasy my little monkey brain had instantly cooked up.

But hope sprang eternal as did my erection. She turned and lowered the robe revealing her bareback, tiny black thong, and a tattoo above her bulbous bountiful booty. Ellen Joy looked over her shoulder to see the look on my face and then explained. “If you look real close at my tattoo and stop looking at my ass you will see that it is made up of very tiny script. I need you to get a clear picture for my art reference. If you do a good job on that, and you are a good boy, maybe I’ll show you my tits.” For emphasis Ellen Joy had demurred and wrapped her arms to cover her breasts .

Being a good scout, I put the lens close to the tattoo and indeed it was made up of very small characters. Of course rather than marveling at the skill of the tattoo artist I was enjoying the scent of this freshly showered Italian beauty.

I took a couple of shots with the Polaroid and let the photos develop in the apartments sunlight. Once satisfied I showed her my work.

“Good job,” she exclaimed and pirouetted around while raising her arms high above her head.  She struck a pose that displayed her perfect pair of large brown nipple crowned boobs with salacious delight. I basked in the vision of the straight black hair that framed her features,  her flawless tanned bareness, and full womanly hips.  Ellen Joy approached me and ran her arm along the ridge of my broad shoulders. My hand caressed her hip as I greedily reached for a handful of her firm round ass. Ellen Joy whispered in my ear, “Now see if you can write me a story with your tongue in that tattoo font so I can really feel it”

With that Ellen Joy pushed down on my shoulders bringing me to my knees as  as I pulled her thong to her ankles leaving me face to face with her full retro nineteen seventies Italian black bush in my face. She draped one of her legs over my shoulders which opened the moist pink rose beneath the furry fringe. As my tongue made slow sweeping motions across the slick palette of Ellen Joy’s cunt I wrote of desires I had never told any girl before, but Ellen being a women understood. As I worshiped at her moist curly black haired altar with my young and resolute tongue I heard her say breathlessly “I think I am going to need you for the rest of the afternoon. Let me call Sheldon, He’ll understand.”

Little Red Rides Samhain With Hood

sketch-1543506564472Little Red’s peasant blouse was already unbuttoned as she stood before The Leather Nun’s delight cart.  She removed the flowing crimson peasant dress but still her breasts were partially concealed by the red hood and cape combo she wore. Still a peek a pert small womanly breasts were shared and the mature hips of a petite woman were exposed as the flouncy dress dropped revealing a compact but pleasing body.  Matured to perfection.


I watched as her tiny hands ran over the cock selection. It was hard to tell with such small hands but she seemed to select quite a large instrument for one so tiny. She compensated with lots of lube. As she slathered it on I could imagine those small hands slathering me with that slick concoction.  It was as if I was immersing in her experience. Still her face was obscured by the black sheer veil she wore under her red hood.


My eyes were glued as her petite stature made her mounting the gleaming black Sybian a bit of an acrobatic feat.  While JoJo merely had to rise up on her long dancer’s legs, the combination of large dildoage and Little Red Riding Hood’s shorter limbs made it necessary for her to balance on her haunches and rise precariously to position her instrument of pleasure where she desired it most. But once there her precipitous drop unto the phallus looming below her made me shiver just imagining such an abrupt and deep penetration.


Oh I felt it.


So much so that when her fall from grace completed an “Oh Yes !” exclaimed from my throat. All the eyes in the room turned to me. Only the purr of the Sybian broke that spell and Little Hood was again front stage and center of attraction. The Leather Nun was working the machine controls like a mystic maestro and Little Hood was grinding and vibrating to the tune of the beast which was now growling between her spread thighs. Her black veil was revealing her face as her hood was falling revealing her a face in full throes of her rising passion.


Clearly this was indeed Tami. But the look on her face was not the demure young woman ‘O” face of my distant memories. This was the face of a woman devouring he orgasm. Letting it take her away to realms she could not even imagine back in our days.  She was up and bouncing on the machine in such a manner I was not sure if the machine would break her or if she would break the machine. Any trace of baby fat had melted away. She was now a sinewy and strapping mature women. Her small snow globe sized breasts had kept gravity at bay and bounced joyously as she fucked machine and machine fucked her. Symbiosis and syncopation had met half way and she exploded in a stream of squirt that also was unheard of back in our days.


Ohh I felt that too. Like she was flowing all over my lap. Had I come under my loincloth watching this display. JoJo was looking up at me wide eyed now with her soft cheek still resting on my bare thigh. Was that a smirk or a smile revealed on her lips. Tami was being assisted off la machina. Leather Nun had one arm. Brunhilda had the other. Once off the feather bed platform Tami, naked save for unfurled  hood sauntered toward me only pausing to pick up her picnic basket that had accessorized her costume.


She was still a sight. This time I enjoyed her full frontal presentation rather than all my secret leering at her behind all those years ago. She reached into her basket and pulled out what appeared to be a journal. Aged and weathered by time she held it out to me . “You forgot this last time I saw you.” For the life of me I could not imagine when that would have been. Nor did I ever recall having such a journal. I was ready to go into full denial, but as if reading my mind she opened it to a page and clearly it was in my hand writing from the days back when I wrote things by hand.  To dark in this room to read it now, she just smiled as I took it, braced herself with an introductory hand on my left thigh, and lowered herself to bookend me with JoJo. Trick and Treat.