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I had been sleeping with four different women for six months. I was tired.

It all started years ago, when I had just turned 18. Women began to flock to me. They seemed to be in love with my boyish charm, yet physically and mentally drawn to my mature disposition.

Women came easily to me and I loved them all.

The problem however, was that I could never date one woman at a time. I generally had to have at least two women waiting for me at all times. Usually they knew about each other…but generally they never met…not if I could help it.

I’ve been in therapy, and know that most women readers are saying, ‘typical man…wants his cunt, and wants to eat it too.’ Well you’re right. I did. And I do…. but suffice it to say that slowly, slowly, through the cracks of my psyche, light is shining in – and I am considering monogamy and maybe even fatherhood for the very first time.

But that is another chat line.

It began with Cindy, sexy English women with an alter ego of a cat. She had the subtlest, well worked out body I had ever been with. Her breasts were large for her 5’2 body, and swayed hither and fro with such magnificence and grace. I have never enjoyed eating nipple and boob, as I did Cindy’s. Damn, they were so firm, big and rounded — and they hung so nicely on her toned, strong body. Guys, if you think you’re seeing them…you probably are.

Mmh. I can see them in my head right now, and I’m going to take a masturbation break. (I’m sure if you’re reading this, you’ll have it within you to forgive me).

I was engaged to her prances around the floor, while Mozart blared on her stereo and I stroked my cock to every upbeat in the tempo. Cindy was a warm, loving person who just wanted me to lover her back. For some reason I couldn’t.

Next came Julie, a Moroccan woman who personified sexuality in a way that I have never witnessed since. Julie is the woman you meet from time to time, who walks into a room with 500 people, and all heads turn. She knows it; the men know it; the women bath in her beauty for a moment – however this is quickly broken by jealousy. My memories of making love to July are one’s that I will put down on paper one day, and produce them into a movie. They are the ones I go back to when I really want to sink my soul into very pleasurable masturbation. I imagine my head between Julie’s legs, and my tongue so deeply inside her that I crave making it my home. Julie loved me, and Boris, and others – both men and women. She was built to be a Queen and a hoar. This is what we loved about her.

After Julie, I met an Ethiopian Queen – Miriam. Miriam is best described as, likely looking like the Queen of Sheba believed to exhibit great beauty.

Miriam was caramel in colour, and her cheekbones accentuated her natural beauty, as did her robust Negro lips and perfect, little drop nose. What I learned from Miriam in bed, I had never known before. Staring at her, simply looking at her biblically seductive manners and look, made me cry a few times. I believe that Ethiopia is the original home of the Jewish people. Still today, you will find customs that are pretty much exactly in sync with Jewish law. Lots of it. I have seen that Ethiopia is as close to Biblical times as any other country. So the woman, knowing this, walk like they are Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. They exude holiness that one only finds güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri within Ethiopians, and if you are a man, finds between the legs of an Ethiopian woman.

Miriam made love to me. Miriam fucked me. She took me. Fuck. Miriam entered me and I entered her from more positions than my yoga master would attempt. I know because I asked him.

Miriam was subtle and agile in her movements and as creative and well read on sexuality as Sex with Sue. When she came, her body shuddered, and Miriam made noises, which I truly hoped my neighbours would here. I wanted them to be pleasured by this masterpiece of God’s creations.

Miriam had no clitoris. But I say today, that her vaginal orgasms outdid any clitoral orgasm I every laid witness to. I swear this to be true on the memory of my father (He would appreciate this. He was a Don Juan).

Miriam loved me so much. And I loved her deeply. But that piece…. you know that piece that always seems to crop up and get in the way of something great…and you never quite no what or why it’s there. That was Miriam and I.

Finally there is Alison, 29 and best defined as an angelic pit bull, with a magical energy, enthusiasm for life, and the face that painters paint. I have never fallen for a woman, as I did Alison.

Her very essence curled around my body and when I fantasized about her – I could actually taste her nipples on my lips, and feel her wetness on my beard…I could smell her and wanted to make love to her for the rest of my life. I craved to touch her panties, her thighs while we sat in public, face-to-face with shoppers and subway travelers everywhere.

Alison was the ethereal one amongst the bunch; she was the Sarah to Abraham. In a most strange way, Alison didn’t really seem to know the magic she possessed, yet She used it so adeptly. Men chased her. Men chased Rachel…quite literally.

They did so because of her magnificent middle-Eastern beauty, because her face shone like a lighthouse, and because they knew that God had only made a few of such creatures – and who ever captured them were surely blessed with life.

Making love to Alison was my one only desire, while I was doing it. I knew nothing about anything else – and I would have married her had she allowed me to. Alas, she didn’t and this broke my heart. It was painful for me to ever accept that she had decided to spend her life with another man and I chose instead to believe that within her still lay her love and romance for me…however she was unable to express it because of her humanitarian decision to stay with her older, sickly husband. Looking back, I think the sickness he had was sinuses, a malady he was not about to die from.

Alison didn’t love me the way I loved her and years later, my eyes are still tearing as I write this.

I was making love to all four of them within the same six-month period. This is the truth and I swear by it. From one house to the other, sometimes twice a day, I would go and for a while it was truly the fantasy that everyman is now thinking.

(And now a commercial moment: I questioned the safety of this lifestyle and decided to become a regular customer of Sheiks. As much as my cock felt cramped inside a condom, I did not conquer with the Romantics who believed that the greatest sex of one’s life should be worth dying for. )

One of my güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri greatest challenges throughout this time was remembering the various ways and means that each one of them liked being licked, sucked and make love to. Most men would have written this important information down, but I was the son of a Holocaust survivor and learned early on to keep things in my head (my father never kept bankbooks. It was all in his head. He was an idiot. When he died, all the knowledge of his bank accounts went with him. I told the guys at the morgue to cut his brain out. You think I’m mean right? He was worth $1.2 million. He owned a fucking candy store. $1.2 million. Shit.)

I did know that Alison did not prefer anal sex. Miriam craved it. I recalled one evening unaware of whose bed I was in, groggy from the night’s wine and exhausted from an afternoon of raucous sex with July, I made the mistake of moving my cock inside of Alison’s ass.

IN a rage that reminded me of George Forman fighting Muhammad Ali – Alison turned around and grabbed my cock threatening to turn it around until it looked like a screw. I begged her forgiveness and was deprived of her warm love bug for over a week. I cried from grief.

Another such event was when I asked Cindy if she would join me and another woman for sex, “again”.

“Again”, she said to me in capital letters. We’ve never had a threesome. I was in for it and felt as if I had fallen into a hot scalding vat of camel cum. “Again…Cindy, I’m asking you again…for the 100th time. That’s what I meant”. Cindy accepted my explanation, apologized and promised she would work on accepting my offer of another woman in bed with us.

Years passed like my Dad said they would and I rarely saw the three of them again. Yes I did see Cindy, in fact we were married. Over the course of our first five years, I brought home many women who delighted Cindy’s cunt like some real pros.

Cindy became a different woman when I committed to her as a lifelong partner. She tattooed her ass with the body of a beautiful goddess, and she has sex toys filling our drawers. I’ve made love to her with my tongue, toes and cock, in her mouth, ass, cunt and breasts…normally pumping another of her orifices with a dildo, vibrator, kitchen appliance or fruit.

So why did I chose Cindy? Good question.

I did because her greatest pleasure was food…. Food dripping all over her body. Nothing made Cindy happier than being covered in a chocolate cream pie, dripping down through her legs. I have watched her masturbate while her hands were blackened with batter and I myself ejaculated simply by watching.

I came over her cunt and leg and it mixed in with the cake, which we ate. It’s not unusual. Trust me. There are many people who love this type of sex. Look on the Internet for proof.

I loved Cindy because she and I shared a great love of life, especially food..everywhere!

Bu there was more….

Cindy also enjoyed sex in the shower. She developed this passion through while learning to make love in the bath, shower etc. so as not to dirty the bedroom with cakes, cookies and cream éclairs dripping from her and me.

Before I had even gotten to first base with her, she told me about her fantasies involving the shower or in a pool. One, which we have succeeded in replicating, was in a public pool. güvenilir bahis şirketleri (It’s true that no single human being should swim in a public pool because you might as well be swimming down a toilet pipe right into a pool of SES. You don’t see the crap but it’s there).

So we went swimming at Summerside pool. It was 85 degrees and the sun was shining down on us, like we were in the dessert. Cindy was dressed in the slickest, most exquisite bikini at Summerside. It was white, hence see through.

Her nipples were relatively larger and therefore stuck out with the pride or an Irish policeman. Not a man or woman could take their eyes off Cindy as she strutted across the pool tiles. I had seen someone as sexy as her in Amsterdam, in a window, a red window. You know when you meet a prostitute who has such incredible beauty that you can’t help but ask the obvious…..?

I propped Cindy against the jet. If you haven’t leaned your genitalia against a jet in a pool you must try it. It will be moments until you cum…. and hard.

Cindy was pushed up against the nozzle so that squirts of water were spurting in her ass and then her cunt. There were so many people around us (it was an adult building) swimming, and playing clearly oblivious of our actions. I guess from the outside world, we were simply lovers kissing and playing. That is accepted.

My penis began to grow and Cindy could feel it against her vagina. She sprang forward to accept my cock, simultaneously to pulling down her bikini. I entered her so cleanly and smoothly and my cock formed snuggly inside of her – like an eel on Discovery Channel, who finds his way into the ocean-floor cave.

Slowly and methodically I began to move against her, pushing my cock deeper into her. She kissed my ear. I smiled at a couple lying on the patio floor. A sweet looking grandma seemed to know what we were doing, and approved of it. She was darling and liberal.

My ass was making waves in the water, as I fucked Cindy and as she fucked me back. I know my girl, and was certain that she wanted to yell a shrill yell that would wake up a yodelers. I knew she wanted to because the sensation of me inside of her, and the noises that she emitted – forced me to insulate our bedroom. I swear it.

Others were looking. Then the most amazing thing began to occur. Others began fucking. Two minutes went by and it seemed that every couple at the public pool were fucking. There was love happening in the deep end, and I was in the middle of it. I whispered to Cindy to yell out to her hearts delight.


Nobody cared, and nobody looked. They were all in the midst of their own lovemaking. And just like in the Green Door, where all the audience came at once, so did my neigbours. It was a cum fest and a great noise of sexual pleasure rose up, with more zest and spirit than I have ever seen at a church prayer meeting. Cindy came again, and then again.

The entire pool area seemed to be dripping in cum and I thought about my sandals, where they were if not on my feet. Ich, didn’t want to step in it.

Years later, after fucking in pools, saunas, whirlpools, showers, falls, rivers and seas Cindy died. She was 89 and her heart gave out. She asked me and her friends to sprinkle her ashes over Lake Ontario, a place she loved and where others loved her.

As I was in my nineties it was just a question of time before I followed her. This made me a little less sad. However, one day I awoke to discover that all three girls I hadn’t seen in years, moved into my old-folks home. What happened then? Aha. More to come.

By Mycke.

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