All Chapters of Steamy Dreams : Chapter 431 - Chapter 440

Sandra strolled into the café and wandered over to where Rochelle and Amanda were sitting."What's wrong?" she asked. "You look as though someone has kicked your kitten.""Amanda has a problem and we're trying to figure out how to solve it.""Really? Tell me all.""Did you know that Amanda is still a virgin?""I will admit that I suspected as much but that's her business, isn't it? Where do we fit into this?""Amanda's eighteen. She wants to be an ex-virgin," said Rochelle with a giggle. "We're trying to work out the best way for her to become one.""I fail to see the problem. Smile at one of the unholy horde that follow you around and they'll devirginate you in nothing flat. Besides, isn't Carl your current boyfriend? I'm sure he'll be more than willing to do the job.""I'm sure he would, too," grumbled Amanda. "I'm currently beating him off with a stick whenever I'm alone with him.""Problem solved. Stop beating, or get a smaller stick.""But I don't want Carl to take my virginity.

I've never been much of a talker. I'm the sort of girl who quietly blends into the background at a party, holding a drink and observing the mayhem around me. Well, that is, until the drinks begin to kick in.By my early twenties, I had experienced my fair share of men/boys. I had dated various sorts: nerdy boys, bullies, jerks, abusers, married men, older men, and of course the stereotypical "jock" type.I had become wiser and more particular about whom I dated. I was growing up from the shy, irresponsible teenager that landed me in so much trouble throughout the years.I still enjoyed the attentions of older men; there was something so attractive about their maturity and their innate knowledge of how to treat a young woman with respect and kindness. I also had a taste for the nerdy sort of boys; it was as if I enjoyed the dynamic of being the older, more experienced woman in those relationships. With the abusers, however, they were a different story, as they were so much more difficu

I am the middle child with two sisters. Our household was controlled by my very religious and strict father. He was raised deeply religious, and he raised his daughters with the same strict religious beliefs that he was raised with decades before. My mother, on the other hand, had come from a completely different world, a secular, fun-loving family, but she went along with my father's rules, for better or worse I suppose.Saying that the church was a huge part of our lives would be an understatement; it was our whole universe. Sunday wasn't just about morning service. We'd leave the house before nine, many times not returning until the late evening. The entire day was filled with events such as, potluck, choir, fund raising, and prayer circle, etc. And that was just one day. The church calendar bled into most other days of the week. Our lives were fully submerged in the church. I was shuffled between Sunday School, choir practice, band, youth group, Bible study, retreats, and summer c

There have been several men in my life that seem to see right through me. Despite my loyal wife facade or my professional and conservative demeanour, they instinctively know that I have an inner slut in me. I can't seem to put my finger on it. Is it confidence, arrogance, or some kind of telepathic power? Whatever it is, they can read me the minute we meet.I've always joked that when I meet a man of this sort, I can't help but feel I must have 'slut' painted on my forehead--like a neon sign advertising my willingness to spread my legs. They seem to not only have the power to read my mind but also the ability to compel me to obey.It's a compulsion I feel the moment he lays eyes on me. I know instantly that I will submit to their desires if they so choose. I'm spellbound by this need to submit, my body betraying me even if my mind says no.One such man was Steve.If you haven't read my previous story, Steve was a divorced man I met on the internet, and we quickly developed a sexual re

I didn't care that my boobs were lazily swaying out in the open, that my legs were parted as wide as they could be, or that strangers were feasting on my near-naked body with their eyes. All I cared about was making my new friend cum; he was very close, which meant I was as well.My new friend beside me grabbed a breast, and I felt Steve's hand mauling my other. I briefly squinted my eyes open and realized that neither Steve nor my new friend were squeezing my tender tits. Someone behind me leaned over me now. I didn't turn to see who it was, nor did I want to. I had lost all control. I simply submitted to the pleasure Steve had promised me.As I soaked in the pleasure, I heard my new friend let out a loud groan. I took this as my cue to stroke him hard and fast. I could feel his cock expand and twitch as he thrust his hips up and let out a deep, primal grunt. You could hear it reverberate all throughout the theatre, almost drowning the voices of the movie.I opened my eyes in time to