'Come on let me shave your arse it's too hairy' I was standing naked in the bathroom having just shaved my face. Golden was looking at me with a cheeky grin on her face and holding the razor and shaving gel. She was wearing a pink bra and pink knickers and looked sexy as hell. 'Come on' she said pointing at the low bench in the bathroom, 'lie over that'. No use arguing I thought and obediently lay on the bench with my arse right in front of her. I felt the wet shave gel being rubbed around my hole until it made a nice lather. It was a nice feeling and my dick started to stiffen under my belly.
Three of the students were going for an interview and I was asked by the principal to accompany them as I was one of their professors. I was the youngest of their teachers and was not sure whether I was up to the responsibility deposited on me. One of the two girls (both are 18 of course) in the group Ann was very outspoken and forward. And frequently I had caught myself imagining how it would be if I were to run my hands over her breasts, the top of which was habitually visible over her low cut dresses. I could not be sure, but there were one or two occasions I had seen her looking at me with an enigmatic expression that made me slightly uneasy and excited at the same time.
The bus was very crowded. It was the college bus. Usually the kids gave way for the teachers. But today there were too many professors on board. Two buses were doing the duty of three as there was some mechanical glitch on the other. With the staff and students divided into the two buses the condition was but natural. I was standing talking to a couple of colleagues who were sitting. Suddenly the driver put on the brakes and there was a reshuffle of the standing order. I felt something soft press my buttocks. I realized that it was the buttocks of some other person. I looked through the corner of my eye and saw that it was one of the teachers from another department.
Cindy and I had been married for a while, friends became more, we had even gone to a few swinger parties and clubs, also nude beaches and resorts. I have had and I suspect that Cindy has had a couple of "adventures" beyond that. Every once in a while an "opportunity" comes along to do something a little more adventurous. And, this is not the story of a little evening of playing and swapping fuckbuddies. When looking for a vacation home, we met up with a sexy vibrant real estate agent named Jennie. She took us around and we told her we wanted a private pool where we and guests could smim nude, perhaps more than just swim.
There was a festival in town and everybody had left the tennis club early except for Tara Diaz. She wanted to keep practicing on the ball shooter and Dave Newman, the handsome club pro said he would keep the courts open until she'd finished. As she smashed ball after ball Dave watched her from behind the fence. She knew he found her attractive and although he could have his choice of the women who played there he always seemed to pay more attention to her. Sometimes Tara could almost feel his eyes undressing her and as she glanced over towards the fence she figured that was what he was doing right then. She was certainly easy to look at.
It had been a long morning. Meetings, calls, and dealing with indecisiveness. I was more than ready for a soothing cup of coffee and a few moments of peace and quiet. The familiar coffee shop was a welcome sight. I ordered my usual and found a secluded table in the corner near the window. Taking a notepad out, I decided to try to make some sense from the happenings of the morning so far. While taking a sip of my coffee, I glanced up and saw an older gentleman looking in my direction. Not wanting to seem rude, I smiled, and he returned the gesture. Passing it off as just a gesture of politeness, I went back to my task. All the while, I felt like someone was right behind me.
I'm alone on the road, a travelling business man far from home. Picture me in my gray suit and briefcase driving from town to town, rushing to keep appointments, pressured to make a sale, trying to keep my chin and my spirits up day after day. Imagine the tired, weary executive who doesn't get to go home at the end of his work day. No, instead I'm eating dinner each night in a different diner, a faceless nobody at the counter or a solitary customer in some oversized booth with my newspaper and my meal. I'm sleeping in a strange bed in some anonymous inn. Then the next morning I move on, hitting the road again and heading down the highway to my next destination. It gets old real quick.
Summer vacation with Uncle Gus was a flavor, a spice that seasoned my sense of time and place. A woman taught me this, a tall, dark-haired gal who took me on a tour around the Mediterranean one night in her kitchen. Some say vacation is a dimension of leisure, a filter through which our lives look softer, shinier, more brilliant; but Veronica Watson convinced me that all those appearances can be translated into taste and swallowed. Easier than being transported in a plane or aboard a ship, with customs, passports and all that. "Believe your stomach boy, more than your eyes," she would say with a sultry Southern draw. Damn if she didn't blindfold me and prove the point every time.
I come from India and have lived in the US for more than 25 years. During these years, I have worked very hard and made some wise investments and made a chunk of money. This is a story which is part real and part fantasy. If it offends some, please move over. My friend Rahul and his lovely wife Rohini a 33 yrs old and mother of his two kids were at my house for dinner. After the dinner, we sat in our study talking when he suddenly became serious and said - "Rohini and I are having some financial struggle and have not paid our mortgage for 3 months. The bank has sent us a repossession notice." I was shocked as Rahul had been a very well to do business person.
It was a warm night so she opened the window a little and went to bed nude and laid on top of the sheets. She lived out in the country and this was nothing new to her. A few hours later a young migrant worker was walking thru the country when he saw a house in the distance. Hoping to find someone awake and ask for work and food he continued up to the house. There was only a porch light on outside as he approached and no sign of light from inside but he had noticed a barn out back so he figured he could least get some sleep and be gone before anyone noticed. Walking round back he noticed a night coming through a window and carefully walked up to see if he could see anyone.