I had experiences as a young man that helped me realise that whilst I enjoy what is sometimes described as vanilla, I have a preference for naughty, kinky sex that is adventurous, spontaneous and sometimes risqué. My acceptance of what I like, coupled with an ability to communicate it, has resulted in some rather enjoyable encounters. Beyond this brief introduction, who I am and what I look like is unimportant; suffice it to say, I'm well educated, well travelled and secure. I take care of myself physically and emotionally.
My stories begin much like others, I suppose; I often find myself in the company of people who seem to have repressed their sexuality; having settled for the ordinary. This is relevant because I can quickly identify them. This, I assure you, requires no special talent on my part. I just think repressed people naturally gravitate to 'others' who are willing to acknowledge their sexuality and are brave enough to act upon it. And when the chemistry is right, wow, there are no limits to the kinky sex that can be had between consenting adults.
For example, during one of my visits back to the states, I stayed with Roger and his partner, Yvonne. He and I played sports together as young lads, but the journey that is life led us in different directions. Anyway, social networking enabled us to resume contact. When I told him I was planning a trip home he insisted I stay with them. I was reluctant at first, being a private bloke, but I decided I could save money on hotel cost; a portion of which could then be spent taking them out for dinners and such; it's never a good ideal to take advantage of people's kindness, particularly when they agree to pick you up at the airport and let you stay at their home.
At the airport, I hardly recognised Roger. I was looking for the athletic guy I remembered, but he put on weight and had a receding hairline. After exchanging pleasantries, he helped me with my bags. We headed to the car after paying the short stay parking ticket which I insisted on paying. During the trip to his house, he gave me an update on all the happenings in the neighbourhood; sounded like nothing much has changed. Interesting how we imagine all these changes occurring in our absence, but things seem to remain very much the same. Anyway, after a few hours drive, we arrived at his modest two-bedroom house were he proudly introduced me to Yvonne, who I could immediately tell had some naughtiness in her. Nothing was spoken, mind you, but I just instinctually knew she was on the kinky side and was not allowed to play the way she likes. I mean, how many women can tell their partner what they really want in bed or out of bed? As before, it is not important what she looks like, what is important is that there was the chemistry I mentioned early; it was evident to Yvonne and me, but we both played our parts well, pushing aside the fact that we would gladly fuck each other if circumstances were different.
Roger and Yvonne didn't have children, so we settled into a comfortable routine during my stay. They worked much of the day and I spent my time enjoying my vacation: meeting family and friends. During the evenings the three of us went out to dinner, bowling and an occasional movie. This was basically how I spent my first week back home, but during one of our evenings out, we ran into an old flame of mine, Brenda. She joined us at the table and after some small talk I was happy to find out she was currently single; it's nice to have a fourth to round things out, especially when you've enjoyed some hot times together. Not long after she joined us we both knew that we wanted to fuck each other again.
Following dinner and drinks, Roger, who knew Brenda and me had a thing, was kind enough to invite her to his house for drinks and laughs. Of course, Brenda and I knew this was going to be our chance to fuck each other again; particularly since we both enjoyed each others bodies before. Yes, I knew it would be good, but what I didn't know is that fucking Brenda would forever change things between Yvonne and me. Following a few drinks and small talk at the house, Roger and Yvonne excused themselves to their bedroom and Brenda and I did the same.
When we entered the room, Brenda sat on the bed, watching me as I placed my wallet and change on the dresser. I looked at the dresser-mirror and saw that she was watching me with that look that tells a lover she wants it too. Despite the years, she looked hot in brown sandals and her navy-blue summer dress. Her hair was tied in a bun and, like I remembered, she had just the right amount of make-up applied. Yes, she looked hot and I was keen to know if she had on a matching panty and bra set. I turned to face her:
