We currently have stories with more being added every day

Six Drinkats

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 02 Feb 2000 1 comments
1 likes views Category: Sex Stories Cum Lovers Tags:

by DHardwick His skin smelt like vanilla. I hard cock rubbed against the soft, warmth of my pajamas. He was kissing me, sweetly. I felt so light, floating. An intruding phone screamed and I reluctantly woke. It was my wife who was in another city for a series of meetings. Yes everything is all right. I was just sleeping. Yes, I'm eating well. And yes the cat is fine. My only problem was my cock. Since my wife had been away the dreams were stronger and stronger. In the mornings my half remembered dreams kept my cock half hard all day. I started to rub myself in the shower, to daydream at work, to think about all kinds of kinky things. After the call I stroked my cock as tried to capture the feeling again. I was half asleep when he came again. I could smell the smell, vanilla mixed with sweat. Six drinkats it cost to get into the castle. Don't ask me to convert it. I have no idea. The drawbridge was real though it looked like it hadn't been raised for years. Reeds, even willows thrived at and over its edge. The sentry was rather stiff. His short hair was rather sexy I thought and momentarily I fantasized his coming off duty just as I found a dark lane to urinate in. In central Europe I had learned the power of double compulsion fantasies. As I saw this happening he looked at me and smiled and I wished it and willed it to be. I sent a hard message back. Aunty Dorothy taught me magic. It wasn't until I'd walked and walked kilometers of confused tunnels that I suddenly realized that this wasn't a Disneyland castle at all. The rough stone walls reproached me as if to say piss off we don't want tourists here. This castle is ours and it is not for sale. I smelt vanilla again and felt a urge almost sexual to head as quickly as possible for the dungeons and slipping away from the guided party I took the most downward paths. "Here I can see you, come closer," he said. I was only seventeen and I was afraid. I wasn't in to men but this one intrigued me. I wanted more. I wanted to stroke and feel him together. I wanted him to kiss and cuddle and cum on me. I wanted him to capture, protect and fuck on me. Please I tried to call, voice without voice within my dream and the smell became stronger. As I breathed it in my cock arched up. Please I said, now in timid voice. I grunted. I closed my eyes and imagined him running his strong hands over my body. Sizing me up, almost. The cell was not locked. The men of the village lurked here when they looked for sex. And as I realized this I could smell that beautiful smell. Not vanilla now but bleach and armpits, lust and piss, the smell of men fucking and grunting. I could hear them now, in the shadows moving, thirsting, thrusting, thrashing, crashing through. He pulled me in and hands tugged at me. The smell was not vanilla now but bleach. The sentry, he pushed my head down and I lapped it up, his sweet sweet cream. The smell the other men hit me. My body wanted this sweetness, this smell. I pushed into them. I smelt the cum. I licked it off his shorts. The others came on me by ones and twos and threes. I was drenched in cum. It was in my nostrils, on my lips, sweet at the tip of my tongue and reaching like light inside me. I went crazy. I groaned for it. I pleaded for it. I licked it up from clothes, from floors, from cocks and I loved it. And I never wanted to wake up. What do you think this means?