Pete Symes
Bio
A scenario manifests. A scenario disassembles. I participate intensively for the duration.
Stories (46/0)
Tasha
Another Friday slinging boxes at the warehouse. We had a lot of orders to pick and get out before UPS showed up at the end of the day. Usually nothing provoked more anxiety in Ricky and I than to see one of the sales staff in the warehouse late Friday. Often that meant they had just made a sale and would demand getting a new order out quickly to impress their new sales prey. No sales person in the place struck me as more predatory than Tasha. She was a sleek five foot six, slender torsoed blond with a luscious rounded bottom. Whether in jeans or a flowing dress her bottom was tops. She had short curly blond bobbed hair that could only be described as fluffy. Often it fluttered about her face obscuring her right eye while her other eye would slyly size you up. To me she was the personification of the idiom of the times. Foxy.
By Pete Symes2 years ago in Filthy
November 3
The phone rang and woke me up. It was Tami chattering away about the good time she had at the concert Halloween night, how her friends liked me, loved the Bonneville. Said it was like a party on wheels. “Two couches with a V-8” I believe the phrase was. Said we have to go to a concert again sometime. No mention of the after concert.
By Pete Symes2 years ago in Filthy
November 2
I called Tami a couple of times today. No answer. I was starting to get concerned. I had no recollection of getting her home, or even how I got home Halloween night. I even went so far as to drive by work once I was able to move and get dressed. I also drove by her apartment building. Her car was not at either places and I started to feel like a stalker. I know she took the day off after our concert night as well and the fact that she was up and about with her day reassured me that she was at least mobile and living her life. I never would have thought I needed a whole day to recover from some Halloween musical fun. All part of getting old. After all I would soon be twenty so I was confident it would be all downhill from here. I had not expected the end of the evening to turn out as it did, for though I could not remember clearly, I had that feeling that it was strange in more ways than one.
By Pete Symes2 years ago in Filthy
Annie
“What was the name of your hometown?” I gasped trying to divert and delay. Annie was looking at me with her startling blue eyes which peered out from under her ratted blacker than black hair. Cut short with a single curl for a side burn on either side of her rouged cheeks, she seemed to me to be the last of the mods from the U.K. music invasion of the sixties. No doubt, in her day she screamed for John, Paul, George, and Ringo . Now it was the late nineteen seventies and she smiled at me and said what sounded like, "I'm from Kaddiff." in that accent that always made my nineteen year old cock stiffer than it usually was. She was the poshest woman I had ever met. Or at least that is how I felt as she was giving me a hand job in the warehouse office where we both worked. She was one of my many supervisors, so what’s a fella to do. The way her tits with the ski slope swoop from the bra-less seventies came to a point of reserved English ecstasy and bounced as she went about her handy work were a sight to behold. Actions that pulled apart buttons on flimsy fabric giving me a down shirt display. The visual had me smitten and bitten. Her lacy finger-less glove magic was bringing me off fast. Just like this little kitten liked it when working my dick with her mittens. Not to mention, I would last a little longer when she mounted me after business hours. These were the best work breaks ever.
By Pete Symes2 years ago in Filthy
Tamara
Ellen Joy had opened my eyes. I was called on to "assist" our freelance artist more than a few sweltering afternoons that summer. Random mornings I would be summoned to Sheldon's office and instructed to take this part of inventory or that piece of artwork to our "Company Bohemian" as Shelton liked to quip.
By Pete Symes2 years ago in Filthy
Fade to Black
The room was in a state. Curtains were hanging half off the rods that had been able to defend their mounted state, while the fallen curtain rods were strewn about like so many corpses of failed liaisons. The rising sun highlighted the dust Lynn and I had stirred up in streaming shafts of warm dawns early light. Lynn, on her knees, naked, supporting herself on arms resting upon the apartment radiator. Breathing heavily with intermittent post climax low silken murmurs.
By Pete Symes2 years ago in Filthy
Ripple List
I suppose as I knelt between Lynn’s spread eagle legs with cum still dripping from my dick and glistening on her backside in the low light I should have thought about getting out of there. Lynn was spent and I was going limp. The night, the booze, the woman had taken their toll on me. But her form below me was such a treat for the eyes. How her hair tapered to a point at the back of her neck. In this light her hair was a definitive strawberry blond. Her freckled back tapered to her trim waist and even collapsed on the floor her butt was small but rounded to a hump made for humping.
By Pete Symes3 years ago in Filthy
Insert Edit
After working me over orally Lynn grasps my wrists and pulls my butt off the couch and on to the floor. My cock is fully erect and soaking from Lynn's mouth but she being a flexible and lithe minx leans back on her arms giving me an astounding view of her small rounded breasts. Planting her feet flat on either side of my ribs on the couch base behind me she slowly begins to pendulum her shaved gash up and down the underside of my shaft making both dick and slit slick and slippery.
By Pete Symes3 years ago in Filthy
Open Re-Edit
We repair to the couch, yet neither one of us starts reaching for our clothing. Perhaps a little naked discussion between the two of us might just do the trick. Lynn is fearless, or mighty crafty because she says she is making us a second night cap and makes sure she saunters her little ass in my full view. Maybe my eyes being glued to her behind has not been as stealthy as I told myself. Her slender torso has just enough womanly curve, but still slender enough where my ultimate goal for the evening is shimmering in the low light, even with Lynn walking straight and proud while adding just enough hip shimmy to attract any predator with two eyes in front.
By Pete Symes3 years ago in Filthy