text:
Chapter 3: True, Faithful, Earnest Prayer

Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph F. Smith, (2011), 21–29

True prayer arises from the heart to God in the name of Jesus Christ.

From the Life of Joseph F. Smith

In the fall of 1847, nine-year-old Joseph F. Smith; his widowed mother, Mary Fielding Smith; and his uncle Joseph Fielding were camped along the Missouri River on the way to Winter Quarters. The next morning they discovered that their best team of oxen was missing.

Joseph F. and his uncle searched long and hard for the oxen, becoming “soaked to the skin, fatigued, disheartened and almost exhausted.” Joseph F. said: “In this pitiable plight I was the first to return to our wagons, and as I approached I saw my mother kneeling down in prayer. I halted for a moment and then drew gently near enough to hear her pleading with the Lord not to suffer us to be left in this helpless condition, but to lead us to recover our lost team, that we might continue our travels in safety. When she arose from her knees I was standing nearby. The first expression I caught upon her precious face was a lovely smile, which discouraged as I was, gave me renewed hope and an assurance I had not felt before.”

She cheerfully encouraged Joseph and his uncle to sit and enjoy the breakfast she had prepared and said, “I will just take a walk out and see if I can find the cattle.” Despite her brother’s protests that further searching would be fruitless, Mary set out, leaving him and Joseph F. to eat breakfast. She encountered a nearby herdsman who indicated that he had seen the lost oxen in the direction opposite to her course. Joseph F. said, “We heard plainly what he said, but mother went right on, and did not even turn her head to look at him.” She soon beckoned to Joseph F. and his uncle, who ran to the spot where she stood. There they saw the oxen fastened to a clump of willows.

President Joseph F. Smith later said, “It was one of the first practical and positive demonstrations of the efficacy of prayer I had ever witnessed. It made an indelible impression upon my mind, and has been a source of comfort, assurance and guidance to me throughout all of my life.”1

Teachings of Joseph F. Smith

Know how to approach God in prayer.

I pray that you will know how to approach God in prayer. It is not such a difficult thing to learn how to pray. It is not the words we use particularly that constitute prayer. Prayer does not consist of words, altogether. True, faithful, earnest prayer consists more in the feeling that rises from the heart and from the inward desire of our spirits to supplicate the Lord in humility and in faith, that we may receive his blessings. It matters not how simple the words may be, if our desires are genuine and we come before the Lord with a broken heart and contrite spirit to ask him for that which we need.2

He is not afar off. It is not difficult to approach Him, if we will only do it with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, as did Nephi of old. This was the way in which Joseph Smith, in his boyhood, approached Him. He went into the woods, knelt down, and in humility he sought earnestly to know which church was acceptable to God. He received an answer to his prayer, which he offered from the depths of his heart, and he received it in a way that he did not expect.

My brethren and sisters, do not learn to pray with your lips only. Do not learn a prayer by heart, and say it every morning and evening. That is something I dislike very much. It is true that a great many people fall into the rut of saying over a ceremonious prayer. They begin at a certain point, and they touch at all the points along the road until they get to the winding up scene; and when they have done, I do not know whether the prayer has ascended beyond the ceiling of the room or not.3

My brethren and sisters, let us remember and call upon God and implore his blessings and his favor upon us. Let us do it, nevertheless, in wisdom and in righteousness, and when we pray we should call upon him in a consistent and reasonable way. We should not ask the Lord for that which is unnecessary or which would not be beneficial to us. We should ask for that which we need, and we should ask in faith, “nothing wavering, for he that wavereth,” as the apostle said, “is like the wave of the sea, driven by the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord” [James 1:6–7]. But when we ask of God for blessings let us ask in the faith of the gospel, in that faith that he has promised to give to those who believe in him and obey his commandments.4

I was greatly impressed and moved by [President Heber C. Kimball’s] manner of praying in his family. I have never heard any other man pray as he did. He did not speak to the Lord as one afar off, but as if conversing with him face to face. Time and again I have been so impressed with the idea of the actual presence of God, while he was conversing with him in prayer, that I could not refrain from looking up to see if he were actually present and visible.5

Go before the Lord often in humility and faith.

We … accept without any question the doctrines we have been taught by the Prophet Joseph Smith and by the Son of God himself, that we pray to God, the Eternal Father, in the name of his only begotten Son, to whom also our father Adam and his posterity have prayed from the beginning.6

I think that it is desirable for us to look well to our words when we call upon the Lord. He hears us in secret, and can reward us openly. We do not have to cry unto him with many words. We do not have to weary him with long prayers. What we do need, and what we should do as Latter-day Saints, for our own good, is to go before him often, to witness unto him that we remember him and that we are willing to take upon us his name, keep his commandments, work righteousness; and that we desire his Spirit to help us. Then, if we are in trouble, let us go to the Lord and ask him directly and specifically to help us out of the trouble that we are in; and let the prayer come from the heart, let it not be in words that are worn into ruts in the beaten tracks of common use, without thought or feeling in the use of those words.

Let us speak the simple words, expressing our need, that will appeal most truly to the Giver of every good and perfect gift. He can hear in secret; and he knows the desires of our hearts before we ask, but he has made it obligatory, and a duty that we shall call upon his name—that we shall ask that we may receive; and knock that it may be opened to us; and seek that we may find [see Matthew 7:7]. Hence, the Lord has made it a loving duty that we should remember him, that we should witness unto him morning, noon, and night, that we do not forget the Giver of every good gift unto us.7

Observe that great commandment given of the Master, always to remember the Lord, to pray in the morning, and in the evening, and always remember to thank him for the blessings that you receive day by day.8

No limit should be or can be set to the offering of prayer and the rendering of praise to the Giver of Good, for we are specially told to pray without ceasing, and no special authority of the Priesthood or standing in the Church is essential to the offering of prayer.9

A man may fast and pray till he kills himself, and there isn’t any necessity for it; nor wisdom in it. I say to my brethren, when they are fasting, and praying for the sick, and for those who need faith and prayer, do not go beyond what is wise and prudent in fasting and prayer. The Lord can hear a simple prayer offered in faith, in half a dozen words, and he will recognize fasting that may not continue more than twenty-four hours, just as readily and as effectually as he will answer a prayer of a thousand words and fasting for a month.10

What shall we do if we have neglected our prayers? Let us begin to pray. If we have neglected any other duty, let us seek unto the Lord for his Spirit, that we may know wherein we have erred and lost our opportunities, or let them pass by us unimproved. Let us seek unto the Lord in humility, determined to forsake everything that would be an obstruction to our receiving the intelligence and the light that we need, and an answer to our prayers, that we may approach him confident that his ears will be open to our petitions, that his heart will be turned unto us in mercy, that our sins may be forgiven, our minds enlightened by the influence and power of God, that we may comprehend our duty and have a disposition to perform it, not to postpone it, not to set it aside.11

We should carry with us the spirit of prayer throughout every duty that we have to perform in life. Why should we? One of the simple reasons that appeals to my mind with great force is that man is so utterly dependent upon God! How helpless we are without him; how little can we do without his merciful providence in our behalf!12

If you do not forget to pray God will not forget you, and He will not withdraw Himself from you if you do not withdraw yourselves from Him. Why do men apostatize? Why do they lose the faith? Why do their minds become darkened? Because they wander from the right path; they neglect their duties and forget to pray, and to acknowledge the Lord and He withdraws His Spirit from them and they are left in the dark. … [This will not happen] to the man who will pray morning, noon and night and humble himself before the Lord, and pray to the Lord in his prosperity just as he would pray to Him in his adversity. That man will never apostatize.13

Home is the temple of the family for prayer and praise to God.

The typical “Mormon” home is the temple of the family, in which the members of the household gather morning and evening, for prayer and praise to God, offered in the name of Jesus Christ, and often accompanied by the reading of scripture and the singing of spiritual songs.14

It is a simple thing to pray, yet how generally this duty is neglected. Parents forget to call together their households and invoke upon them the blessings of God; they are too often in a hurry, or are perplexed so much with the affairs of life as to forget the obligations they are under to the Almighty. Prayer in the family circle may be looked upon by some Latter-day Saints as a very simple thing, but its neglect will produce very serious results. … Some Latter-day Saints remember Him only when adversity overtakes them; in prosperity they forget him. Now the Lord may conclude to forget us when we most need his help, and if he should do so we would find ourselves in an unfortunate condition. Never forget God; seek him in prayer morning and night. … Be prayerful in storm and sunshine, then when darkness overtakes you, relief will assuredly come.15

Fathers, pray with your families; bow down with them morning and at night; pray to the Lord, thank him for his goodness, mercy and Fatherly kindness, just as our earthly fathers and mothers have been extremely kind to us poor, disobedient and wayward children.

Do you pray? What do you pray for? You pray that God may recognize you, that he may hear your prayers, and that he may bless you with his Spirit, and that he may lead you into all truth and show you the right way; that he will warn you against wrong and guide you into the right path; that you may not fall astray, that you may not veer into the wrong way unto death, but that you may keep in the narrow way.16

When a little child bows down in its perfect simplicity and asks the Father for a blessing, the Father hears the voice, and will answer in blessings upon his head, because the child is innocent and asks in full trust and confidence. These are simple principles that I have sought to impress upon your minds. They are simple, but necessary, and essential.17

We are directed to call upon God in the name of Jesus Christ. We are told that we should remember him in our homes, keep his holy name fresh in our minds, and revere him in our hearts; we should call upon him from time to time, from day to day; and, in fact, every moment of our lives we should live so that the desires of our hearts will be a prayer unto God for righteousness, for truth, and for the salvation of the human family.18

Let your soul go out in prayer for the good of others.

When we come together each should have a prayerful spirit and let his soul go out, not alone for himself, but toward the whole church. If this were done, none would go away from the house of worship without experiencing the spirit of God. … [When prayer is offered,] everyone … should endorse it by a verbal amen.19

When a man seeks the spirit of wisdom and of inspiration from the Almighty, … the Lord will build him up, because he has the fear of God before his eyes, because he loves his neighbor as he loves himself, and he is not praying: “O Lord, bless me and my wife, my son John and his wife; us four, and no more. Amen.” Such a man does not pray in this way, but he prays for the welfare of Zion, and the longevity of these men who have been raised up of the Lord to be our leaders, our counselors and our advisers in the principles of the Gospel. He prays for his neighbor.20

The man who is prayerful before the Lord will set an example before all others who see and know his conduct.21

I never pray to the Lord without remembering His servants who are in the nations of the earth preaching the Gospel. The burden of my prayer is, “O God, keep them pure and unspotted from the world; help them to maintain their integrity, that they may not fall into the hands of their enemies and be overcome; lead them to the honest in heart.” This has been my prayer ever since I was in the mission field, and I will continue to pray thus as long as I live.22

[To his missionary son Joseph Fielding, Joseph F. Smith wrote on 18 July 1899:] Our hearts are full of blessing for you and … together with all your companions we hold you up in remembrance before the Lord whenever we pray. O! God, my Father, bless, comfort, sustain and make efficient my sons, and all thy servants in the mission field. When doors are shut in their faces, give them grace, forbearance and forgiving hearts. When coldly spurned by scornful men, warm them by thy precious love, when cruelly treated and persecuted be thou present to shield them by thy power. Make thy servants to know Thou art God, and to feel thy presence. Feed them with spiritual life and with perfect love which casteth out all fear and may all their bodily needs be supplied. Help them to store their minds with useful knowledge, and their memories to retain thy truth as a well filled treasure. May they be humble before Thee and meek and lowly as thy glorious Son! Put their trust in Thee, in thy word, and in thy gracious promises. And may wisdom and judgment, prudence and presence of mind, discretion and charity, truth and purity, and honor and dignity characterise their ministry and clothe them as with holy garments. O, God, bless abundantly thy young servants with every needed gift and grace and holy thought, and power to become thy Sons in very deed!23

Suggestions for Study

  • What does it mean to “supplicate the Lord in humility and in faith”? What does it mean to have a broken heart and a contrite spirit? How do a broken heart and a contrite spirit help us to approach Heavenly Father in prayer?

  • Why is faith necessary as we pray? (See also Helaman 10:5.) Why should we avoid repetitious prayers? What can we do to make our prayers more meaningful?

  • Why must we be willing to “forsake everything that would be an obstruction” to receiving an answer to prayer? What are some of these obstructions?

  • How can we “carry with us the spirit of prayer throughout every duty that we have to perform in life”?

  • Why might a fast of less than 24 hours and a simple prayer be as effective as a longer effort?

  • What “serious results” might we face if we neglect family prayer?

  • What makes a child’s prayer so effective? How can we be more childlike in our prayers?

  • Why is it important to “endorse” the prayers of others “by a verbal amen”?

  • Why is it important to pray for others? How does praying for the general and local leaders of the Church bless them? How does it bless us and our families?

Show References

  1.   1.

    Life of Joseph F. Smith, comp. Joseph Fielding Smith (1938), 131–34.

  2.   2.

    Gospel Doctrine, 5th ed. (1939), 219.

  3.   3.

    In Conference Report, Oct. 1899, 71–72.

  4.   4.

    Gospel Doctrine, 218.

  5.   5.

    Gospel Doctrine, 198.

  6.   6.

    In Conference Report, Oct. 1916, 6.

  7.   7.

    Gospel Doctrine, 221; paragraphing added.

  8.   8.

    Gospel Doctrine, 218.

  9.   9.

    Gospel Doctrine, 205.

  10.   10.

    Gospel Doctrine, 368.

  11.   11.

    Deseret News (weekly), 8 Dec. 1875, 4.

  12.   12.

    Gospel Doctrine, 218.

  13.   13.

    “Discourse by President Joseph F. Smith,” Millennial Star, 25 Oct. 1906, 674.

  14.   14.

    In Conference Report, Apr. 1907, 7.

  15.   15.

    In Brian H. Stuy, comp, Collected Discourses Delivered by President Wilford Woodruff, His Two Counselors, the Twelve Apostles, and Others, 5 vols. (1987–92), 2:280.

  16.   16.

    Gospel Doctrine, 215.

  17.   17.

    Gospel Doctrine, 216; paragraphing altered.

  18.   18.

    Gospel Doctrine, 503–4.

  19.   19.

    In Collected Discourses, 2:365.

  20.   20.

    “Discourse by President Joseph F. Smith,” Millennial Star, 11 Nov. 1897, 709.

  21.   21.

    Gospel Doctrine, 116.

  22.   22.

    “Discourse by President Joseph F. Smith,” Millennial Star, 1 Nov. 1906, 691–92.

  23.   23.

    Joseph F. Smith to Joseph Fielding Smith, 18 July 1899, in Joseph Fielding Smith Papers 1854–1918, Historical Department Archives, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.


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Region must work together for growth

February 5, 2013
The Leader Herald

On Dec. 6, the Fulton-Montgomery Region CEO Roundtable sponsored a City Revitalization Symposium. We had a great turnout of local business leaders, elected officials, interested citizens and media. The mayor of Auburn, N.Y., spoke about the steps that community has taken to revitalize its city. They have made impressive progress. We also heard from area developers who are working in neighboring communities. These developers were very encouraging about the potential in our community.

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News, Blogs & Events Web

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Kristian Hojgaard Madsen

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LNA members are not affiliated in the joint practice of law; each member firm is an independent law firm and renders professional services on an individual and separate basis.


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Thermal Interior Blinds VW T5 (One choice)

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Thermal Interior Blinds for Motorhomes keeps heat in during cold weather and reflects sunlight to keep cool during summer.

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“But we were wise. We knew that man's heart, away from nature, becomes hard.” - Chief Luther Standing Bear

The filosophy of Bem Viver (Good Life), as practised by the Xukuru:
"We emphasize again that life is sacred , and that the earth , our mother , nourishes us and offers our sanctuaries a stay . We need to take care of her, which is a prerequisite for a ' Good Life ' . We experience how politics and big development projects initiated by the federal government , threaten us and invade our areas to destroy the holy nature and Mother Earth , and disturb and hinder the' Good Life '. We reject the construction of dams , of building nuclear power plants , the diversion of the San Francisco River , and other plans for the exploitation of indigenous lands in Brazil .
We know that the ' Good Life ' should entail a change of institution. Therefore it is necessary that we reject the values of the colonial rulers , where they are still being practiced . We want to live with respect for nature , water , forests, rocks , mountains and animals. We respect the elderly , women , youth and children. Older people are an example to us . Solidarity , unity , participation, friendship , religion , dancing the tore , harmony, freedom , impartiality , obedience, these values we cherish and we want to live . We invite anyone who wants to join us to build the ' Good Life ' ."

For 5 weeks I stayed with the Xukuru indians in Pernambuco, Brazil. One of the reasons I visited them was because I am fascinated by the re-identification of the indigenous peoples. The Xukuru are among them. After five centuries of repression by the colonisers, which almost cut them off entirely of their native culture and religion, the Xukuru are in a process of revival and restoration of what went lost. Frorm the beginning of the colonisation, the Portuguese forced the Xukuru to have intercultural marriage; that's why today they do not look exactly like we expect indians to be. Among the Xukuru there are African looking people, Asian, and even white, blond-haired people. They wear modern cloths. But when they celebrate an important fest or when they dance the Toré they wear traditional cloths like the 'barritina' (Xukuru headdress) or the indigenous skirt made of palm leaves.
They drive around in cars, have cell phones, internet..but simultaneously they treasure their spiritual leader: the Paje, and their holy ancestors: the 'Encantados' .

In western society, we have often this image in mind of the 'true' indigenous: people who live in remote places of the world, have not yet been into contact with civilisation, have never heard of internet or television, and look stunning in their traditional cloths. But all over the world there are indigenous peoples who do not fit in this aesthetic, photogenic picture. Are they then less indigenous, less true?

I have photographed individual Xukuru with my iPhone, and I used the Tinto 1884 Hipstamatic App. I chose this app beforehand, because I wanted to emphasize this ambivalence: this mix of the modern with the traditional; the old with the new, and by doing so, raise the question: "what is authentic, what is fake?" Is this 're-identification' possible or is their 'authentic' culture definitely and irreversibly gone lost? Or do these people create a new kind of identity; well fit for the 21st century?
In this series I made use of the old and the new also, by making family portraits with my analogue Mamiya 67. To accentuate the timeless and universal importance of family bonds.


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Re: Work [was: Re: SNI Alliance Partner]

Subject: Re: Work [was: Re: SNI Alliance Partner]
From: Andreas Busse <>
Date: Mon, 20 Nov 1995 20:19:02 +0100
In-reply-to: <>
 > Ralf> Well, we tried to install various versions of WNT on the Oily to
 > Ralf> verify that it's working.  The machine always crashes at a more
 > Ralf> or less random point.  From what Stoned told me this was what we
 > Ralf> had to excpect because MS doesn't support the Oily anymore.
 > Ralf> Milo however works always and the kernel never.

What *exactly* happens, actually? No output at all, or what?

 > Hum,... I'm not so sure about no support for Olly in WNT, all I know
 > is that I had tried about 4 or 5 version (only different from the
 > compilation number, which is indicated between '[' ']' if I recall
 > well: only two among them can be installed and ''''used'''''''''
 > I'll try to do another install, just to be sure about the correct
 > version number...

I don't think that it's worth finding out which NT runs on the
Oily. Wayne said that the box fails during the audio test, which
definitely worked on Stefan's Oily. I rather believe that there
is some more or less serious hardware bug preventing the kernel
to come up. Either we find a workaround, or the box should be
returned to "Applied Personal Computing" where we got it from.
Unfortunally the usual half-year warranty has been gone by waiting
for matching Rams...

Andreas Busse                      |
Soft N Hard GbR                    | Phone: +49 2636-970105
Im Hufen Boden 16, D-53498 Waldorf | Fax:   +49 2636-970106

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The TX39XX series processors are based upon Toshiba's TX39H 32-bit RISC cores. There are actually 3 cores: TX39H, TX39H+ and TX39H2. These have mostly been utilized in printers, copiers and PDAs like the Philips Nino and Velo.

According NetBSD/hpcmips, The Sharp Mobilon HC-4600 uses a 74MHz TX3912. Maybe it is compatible.

http://www.semicon.toshiba.co.jp/eng/prd/micro/td/td_all.html#tx39 has some additional datasheets, which seem to be very complete.


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tagErotic HorrorCedar Tree Resort Ch. 04

Cedar Tree Resort Ch. 04

Ethan and Jackson had been reading a book in the upstairs library when the power had gone out. Cassie was fast asleep in the overstuffed chair and they had decided to leave her there. Ethan wondered if she had slept horribly as well. She was good at hiding her feelings. Jackson knew that the reason she was tired was that he had tired her out from over two hours of sex before bed.

They had stumbled their way downstairs and then exited the main building. It was very dark outside and it confused both of them.

"What time did we get into the library?" Ethan was breathing hard, trying to calm down, but he was not succeeding. He wanted to grab hold of Jackson's hand, but that would be lame.

"I have no fucking idea. Let's just head back to the cabins.

The two men walked carefully down the path to their cabins. They were both scared, but were too ashamed to admit it to the other. Neither one of them said a word and soon Jackson arrived at the cabin. He turned to let Ethan into his cabin, but he was gone.

Jackson quickly entered his cabin and gasped when he saw a figure lying on his bed.

"Who the fuck are you?' Jackson was trying to reason with himself. He was a football player. He had to make split second decisions all the time. He figured he was either dreaming, asleep in the comfortable old chair in the library, or Cassie was playing a trick on him.

"Cassandra. Come here and let me please you."

Jackson believed it was Cassie, but her voice was softer and more sensual than normal. He didn't want to walk towards her, but it was like he had no choice. He stood by the bed, trying to determine what Cassie was wearing. It was dark in the room, shadows being cast against the walls. Jackson was about to say something when his pants were unzipped and she began to suck on his cock. He cried out and leaned over the bed.

"Holy Fuck!" Jackson's cock was burning with cold. Her lips were cold as ice, but he was hard as a rock. She was sucking so hard he could feel his foreskin sliding up his cock. She deep throated him roughly, swallowing. Her small mouth closed around the tip of his cock and he grunted. Jackson tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him. She was kneeling on the bed, her hand jerking his cock so hard and fast. She was holding his cock so tight that he could feel every ridge on her fingers. She wasn't stopping, but kept going faster.

"Fuck! I'm going to cum." Jackson's whole body was shaking. Every part of his body was aroused and had he not spent the morning jerking off, he would have cum a lot sooner. When he did, it was loud and explosive. His hot fertile semen shot out of his cock and landed on the back of Cassandra's throat. He tried to pull away, but she sucked on his cock like an ice cube. He could feel the burning coldness, but also the heat from his cock. He looked down and the room had gotten darker. He couldn't see a thing. He could only feel her.

"Oh god baby. You are amazing. I want to fuck you so badly." Jackson knew how wrong it was to sneak around on his best friend with his other best friend. Ethan didn't know that Cassie and he were dating. It had been a decision that all three of them had made. No dating each other, they could only be friends. He wanted Cassie so badly right now.

"Let's go skinny dipping." The figure stood up and made her way to the door, waiting for him to open it. Jackson ran over and opened the door, watching as she wandered down the path to the beach. They had been told the beach was off limits, but he didn't care. All he thought about as he ran down the path, stripping naked as he went, was how great her pussy would feel in the water.

Jackson got to the beach and looked around. The water was dark and still and he could see her in shoulder deep water. He entered the water and scooped her up in his hands. He sank her delicious pussy down on his cock and moaned. She was so tight and so wet. He was standing on the bottom and was bouncing her up and down on his cock.

"Oh god baby. You feel so good. Cum for me."

"Oh yeah. I'm going to flood your pussy." Jackson grunted and pushed up harder. He was moving into deeper water, but didn't realize it. The bottom of the lake was moving under him until he could no longer touch. He began to kick his legs, but his muscular body along with the weight of Cassandra was pulling him under the water. He tried to pull her off him, but she wasn't letting go.

"Let go." Jackson gulped the cold lake water and tried to breath. He was still hard and as the moon shone on the lake, he realized it was not Cassie at all. It was someone who looked very similar to Cassie, but wasn't. He dug his nails into her arms, struggling to pull her off.

"Cum and I'll let go." The ghost hissed those words, desperate for him to climax.

Jackson didn't know what to do. He was partially under water and was scared to death of drowning. At the same time, he needed desperately to cum. He felt her pussy tighten against his cock and he couldn't hold back. He unloaded his cum deep into her pussy. He could feel the temperature change between her pussy and his cum. He barely had time to recover when he was pushed under.

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tagFirst TimeThe Girl I Snaked

The Girl I Snaked

"We're gonna have a keg party Saturday night. Keep it a secret, just guys from the dorm and their dates."

The freshmen thought they'd succeeded, but a couple of us seniors found out about it. Even in fraternities, keg parties for those under 21 were illegal and could get everyone in trouble. We "responsible" seniors (that is, those who had no date for the weekend) decided that it would be impossible to crush the party in advance, but we would keep an eye on it to prevent excess.

It began to get out of hand shortly after 9 and our leader Scott swooped in and slashed the tap system. Someone repaired it quickly and threatened to fight if Scott tried that again. We were faced with having the place overrun with crashers who couldn't hold their beer, but calling campus police would have really caused trouble. Scott called the beer supplier and he agreed to cut them off, so at least when this keg was exhausted there would be no more beer and the party would fizzle out.

"Pete, I've got a problem."

"Can't hold your beer?" I cracked, though clearly he was completely sober.

"No, it's Steve. He's really drunk. Now he's arguing with some guy over the Red Sox, He took a swing at his date. I can't reason with him."

When I arrived there were three couples in the room. Steve was in a stupid argument about Red Sox relief pitching. They asked me to decide who was right and, after listening to both sides, I picked the other guy. Steve cursed me, his date, and his roommate, then staggered into his room and slammed the door.

Steve's date was pretty shaken up. Carol was tallish, maybe 5-7, with a delicate frame, long brown hair, and a peaches-and-cream complexion. Under the circumstances it seemed like a good idea to get her out of the room.

It was a warm spring night so I suggested we walk down toward the river. As we were heading down the hall someone said "Pete snaked Steve's girl!"

This was awkward. I didn't have a date this weekend, in great part because I was essentially broke. Suddenly I was responsible for a girl named Carol about whom I knew nothing. I had to take care of her until she went back to wherever she went to school, and keep Steve away from her.

I told her about the submarine races that were going to be held on the river, starting around 11, and that they were practicing now. She had never heard about them but as I explained she got more and more interested.

Since even in spring New Hampshire can be chilly at night, I went back to my room and got my blankets and two windbreakers. We headed toward a section of the college graveyard with a river view.

I spread one blanket at the base of large obelisk and wrapped us in the other two. She leaned into me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

I explained that you had to pay close attention to the river to spot the wakes of the submarines' periscopes as they sped by.

"Look, there's a practice run. See it?" Carol said she didn't see a thing.

I spotted several more periscope ripples in the next five minutes and soon she began to see them as well. We laughed at the absurdity of submarines in the Connecticut River and rewarded ourselves for successful spotting with high fives. At one point I bestowed a kiss on her forehead. When I spotted the next ripple she gave me a kiss on the lips.

The stone slab was getting cold, so we shifted our position to the grass. We kept spotting the subs and rewarded ourselves with quick kisses. After one particularly warm kiss, Carol drew her knees up in front of her and looked away.

"Thank you for saving me from Steve and his friends. I'm glad you brought me to the races."

"He was treating you badly. You deserve better."

We sat there, silently, she in her thoughts, me — well, thinking about her. Finally I asked her, "What's the story?"

Suddenly she was crying, shaking. I moved over to her and held her close. I stroked her hair but it took a while before she regained her composure.

"I met Steve at a mixer in February. He was very sweet. He came to Holyoke a couple of times and I just fell in love with him.

"We decided this weekend was the perfect time for us to make love. When I got off the bus around two, there he was with a large sign: 'Carol. I love you.' We took my bag in his room and I thought, 'I am going to make love for the first time right here, tonight.'

"We walked all over the campus and had dinner at a restaurant. By candlelight. With a bottle of wine. We held hands across the table. We got back to his room around 8:30. I was floating on air.

"The guys were using his room to store the keg. Steve got really angry. He told them to move it, but they said that they couldn't, they were afraid the crashers were going to ruin the party. He got more and more angry, almost crazy. I couldn't get his attention, he pushed me away.

"Eventually they moved the keg into the hall and right away he had a couple of beers. When this big guy came in and cut the tube, Steve wanted to fight him. Then he went after his roommate because his room smelled like a brewery. I couldn't reach him, he was in a rage. He got mad at another guy about baseball. By the time you got there he was almost incoherent. I think he was afraid of you, so that's why he slammed the door."

And she started crying again, sobbing.

Her sobbing slowly subsided, but the cold ground and the damp air were getting to us.

"It's late. Let's go back to my room. I'll get your bag and you can stay with me."

The dorm was quiet. The keg was dead and Scott had enforced order. Carol slipped into my room and locked the door. I went down the hall and quietly entered Steve's room. He was passed out on his bed. The place smelled of stale beer and vomit. I found Carol's bag and purse.

Carol was sitting on my desk chair when I arrived.

"I think these are — " and all at once she was kissing me. Hard. Her hand went to my suddenly stiffening cock, fumbling for my zipper. I stepped back, stunned.

"Carol, it's okay, I'm — "

"Don't say anything, just fuck me," she said, in a hard voice that was not meant to be contradicted.

She yanked my shirt off, my pants down, pulled my shoes off. Her clothes were off even faster. There was no romance, no foreplay. When I went for the condoms in my dresser she hissed "forget the rubbers. My period will start in a couple of days."

She pulled me onto the bed and got right to it. "Put it in me, now," she commanded, as she lay on her back.

She took my cock and pulled me to her opening, then grabbed my ass and pulled while thrusting up against my cock. A steel plate would not have withstood the pressure and I was all the way in. It had to have hurt her but all she said was "Uhhh!"

We thrashed around, nearly falling off the bed. I came pretty quickly but she didn't seem to care. I dropped off, got soft, and slid out.

We lay on our sides in silence, the pool of cum and blood between us, not really looking at each other.

"Peter, I —"

"What was —"

"Peter, I just had to do that. Now it's over. Can I go pee?"

Few rooms in the dorm had bathrooms, and mine wasn't one of them. We used the shower rooms and toilets at the center of each wing. I gave Carol a pair of pants and a sweatshirt and we tiptoed to the bathroom. Fortunately, no one was around. We got back in my room unobserved.

It was after 1 a.m. I had no idea what was going to happen next. I had taken on the responsibility for this girl. She had jumped me, forced me to have sex with her. Maybe the best thing was simply to go to sleep.

We pulled the mattress onto the floor, made the bed with new sheets, and slid under the blankets. I kissed her on the forehead and, after a pause, she kissed me on the lips. We moved slowly forward and she waited for me at each stage. I began to kiss her face, tongued her ear (which seemed to excite her, but she didn't say anything), and slowly kissed my way down her chest to her breasts. When I touched the nipple on her left breast she said "mmm," the first sound she had made since we lay down. As I moved further along she moved slightly, then brought her hands to my head and "mmmm"-d a couple more times. When I started for her pussy she bent her left leg to give me access.

"Carol, what feels good? There is so much —"

"Steve — oh damn!" and she started to cry, but stopped, choked up. She regained herself in a minute.

"Can you play with my clitty? I do that and it makes me feel so good."

I moved my head between her legs and began with my tongue. Dipping my finger into her vagina, which was starting to get wet, I brought her clit out from the skin folds. It stood more than a half inch tall with a nice button at the end. Carol's "mmmm"-ing was longer and deeper than before as I took it into my mouth and sucked it. She encouraged me with her hands against the back of my head. As I continued she said "so nice, feels so nice" a couple of times. She was starting to push against my face with her hips, so I slipped beside her and brought my finger in to play with her clit.

Keeping my finger busy, I moved to her inner thighs and lightly kissed them both. Carol was breathing heavily and pushing hard against my hand.

"Oh Peter, do me with your mouth again, on my clitty, please."

With this encouragement I went back to tonguing her clit. Slowly she began humping up against my face, pulled her thighs against my head, and pulled my head even tighter into her pussy.

"There, that's it, oh yes, yessssss, oh oh, oh."

It was a long, slow orgasm, but I was part of it. As she subsided, she let go of my head and relaxed her thighs. I slid up so that we were face-to-face. Slowly her eyes opened and we kissed, delicately. I pushed back the wet hair from her face and kissed away the sweat.

"That was so nice, so very nice. Thank you, Peter."

"Want to do more?" I said.

"Can we? Oh yes, yes."

"Your hair is so long, Carol, so soft, it smells so sweet," I said, and balled it up and buried my face in it.

"I can draw pictures in the hair on your chest."

I had Carol position herself for doggie style. I moved behind her, licked my index finger, and began to play with her clit. She grabbed my pretty flaccid cock and swished it through her pubic hair.

Then I slowly laid her hair out along her spine as she sighed and said "mmmm."

I gathered myself up against her ass and started to push my semi-hard cock toward her. Carol giggled as I missed her opening, not once but twice, and finally grabbed my cock, which completed its hardening. She held it in position as I slowly moved into her and she inhaled deeply, wiggled her ass, and adjusted herself to me. I thrust forward and was fully inside her.

"That was absolutely painless. It feels really good. Let's go really slow, okay?"

"Slow is us. You are so nice, so tight around me. I love the feeling of your warm pussy directly on my cock."

I reached for her clit and found it out and ready. I knew how sensitive it was and what playing with it would do for her, so I slowed down my already slow thrusting and focused on it. After a few minutes she started pushing up against me and said "that's so nice. You're at both ends. Can you put more pressure on my clitty?" I worked it harder, keeping my cock still. She began a slow rhythmic pressing back against me, so I started meeting it with my thrust. I was beginning to lose control when she bucked so hard my cock came out of her.

"Put it back in, Peter! Please, please!"

We each grabbed my cock and it was back to its rightful place in one thrust. Her humping got more frenzied. This time I held her waist tighter and reached for her clit, but the orgasm washed over her before I got there. Then I came with a rush, and soon we collapsed in a heap.

As I got soft we shifted so we were on our sides. "You are really a wonderful lover, Carol," I said, hoping she would react in some way: laugh, or smile, or say something. Her words came slowly, but she didn't choke up.

"My roommate's been fucking since junior high school. I was really shocked at her promiscuity. She explained that she had come to know her own needs not only from fucking but also by playing with herself. She showed me how to do it and I've been masturbating ever since.

"I didn't want to have sex in the same way she did, but she convinced me that I should at least fool around with guys to get some sense of what I liked. I did fool around with a couple of guys before I met Steve. I gave him handjobs and even a blowjob and he fingered me."

After a long pause she asked, plaintively, "Why do you think he did that?"

"Maybe he was afraid of what was going to happen. When I had my first chance, I couldn't get an erection. Second time too. My girlfriend was convinced I was queer and dumped me. It took a long time before it actually happened."

We lay quietly for a while.

"I owe you an explanation for my behavior, Peter. While you were getting my bags from Steve's room, I decided that I had to get him out of my mind. You deserved better than what I did to you, but I did what I did. As far as I am concerned, Steve should drown in his own vomit. Now I want to move on. Can we fuck again?"

I thought about my sore cock, then looked at my alarm clock. It was past 3. "How about we renew our energy with some pancakes and syrup?"

"The church across the street runs a free pancake breakfast. It's part of the spring weekend tradition. It starts at 3."

"Just like the submarine races?"

I blushed. "You'll see. Let's go."

She fit a pair of my pants well enough and looked good in a sweatshirt, so we walked across the street to the church's community building. There must have been thirty couples and a bunch of singles there, chowing down.

Only a few showed the effects of a lot of drinking, but one of them was Steve, who I spotted across the room. He started to come toward us but his roommate grabbed his arm and steered him to the juice line. Carol didn't see him and we each finished a big stack, chasing it with cold milk. She used the women's bathroom and we headed back to the dorm.

We fell asleep in each other's arms. Around 7 we woke and made very sweet love. Afterward we took a chance and showered together. We had to make a run for it when two guys came into the bathroom and saw Carol in my bathrobe with her hair in a towel.

We got dressed and went to the dining hall for breakfast. I kept the conversation general as we didn't seem to have much in common. The bus for Holyoke left at 1 p.m. Carol turned on the stairs of the bus and blew me a kiss. I blew one back.

On Wednesday I got a letter:

Dearest Peter,

Thank you so much for rescuing a damsel in distress. I will always remember the guy who took me to the submarine races and the pancake breakfast.

Ours is a shipboard romance. I will always cherish it, but like all such romances it must come to an end.

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index : members : skip.69 : Biography

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skip.69's Biography:
Sex: Male
Age: Over 18
Weight: Average
Height: Average
Location: UK
Orientation: Straight
Interested In: Friends, Love, Women
Status: Attached
Smoke: No
Drink: Occasionally
Fetishes: Sexy knickers; e-mails; cyber-sex; Golden showers; nudism;; shaved pussies; pussy-eating
Pets: None
User Number: 410618
Member Since: August 30, 2004
Last Modified: April 7, 2008
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text:
Do Over

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Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (23 min/mp3)

* * * * *

The breeze had a freshness to it, like spring was coming. It was still too early for spring yet on the mid-March morning. She added closing the window to her list. She was scrambling around her house trying to get everything she needed into the suitcases that she had chosen for her trip. She was a bit of a list person - she had a list for what suitcases to take, and then a list of what went in each one. She thought it kept her organized. She thought she had everything she needed, then she remembered to toss in the box of condoms. Running her hand through her hair with a loud sigh, she sat on the bed to check her lists; everything seemed to be in order, she was ready to go!

Her cab waited outside the next morning at 6am. She had phoned a well-known cab company to request it the night before. She double-checked her lists, then looked at the list of things to do at the airport. She was nervous, her hand was shaking, visibly vibrating on its own accord as it held the piece of paper. She handed the last suitcase to the cabby, tucked her list inside her purse then closed and locked the door. Carefully walking down the stairs so she didn't trip, she climbed into the cab and let him know that the destination was in fact the airport departure drop off.

The cab driver made small talk on the way but managed to get her there in a decent amount of time. He explained that he will get her a luggage cart and meet her at the trunk of the cab to help her with the bags. She is grateful for the help, waits patiently for him to return, then tips him nicely for his efforts as she turns her attention to finding the ticket counter.

Ah there it was - Delta Airlines... perfect. She went to the end of the line, thankful that she hadn't packed as much as some of the people standing with her. She pushed forward until she got to the person at the counter - an attractive attendant, and cheery too. They small talked while the baggage went through; anxious to get it done, she couldn't help but tap her foot.

Finally the attendant said, "Thank you, have a wonderful trip," as she handed her the boarding passes.

She decided to use the restroom to make sure she was good for the plane ride; those small cramped restrooms were not pleasant to use. She tried to avoid them unless really necessary. Returning her thoughts to finding a restroom she followed the signs, used the toilet then washed her hands. She picked at her hair, then tidied the makeup and continued back to the security line.

She stretched, took out her boarding passes to show the guard and placed everything on the belt down through the x ray machine. She chuckled as she saw the screen that they see, noticing that she may have overdone how many condoms she threw in. She went through the scanner, gathered her things, thanked the nice people that did their jobs and continued on to find her departure gate. She reached the gate, found a chair, got out her book and tried to take her mind off the trip by reading.

An hour later they announced the boarding call; she placed her book in her bag, put it and her purse on her shoulder, and had her boarding pass in hand with ID ready to go. She walked toward the gate, accepted the ticket stub and ID back from the attendant, strolled to the plane door, found her seat and sat down.

Her purse and bag fit nicely under the seat. She buckled her seat belt then waited for everyone else to get seated and be on their way. It finally dawned on her then - she was really doing it ... her thoughts got interrupted when an elderly lady sat next to her, jostling everything as she attempted to get comfortable. She helped the lady get her bags under her seat, retrieved a blanket to cover her and then settled back in herself.

When the plane was in the air, the lady jabbed her with an elbow, apologized and struggled with her seat belt. Inching closer to her window she smiled at the lady then closed her eyes, escaping back to her own thoughts. She felt a tap on her shoulder - the lady was trying to get her attention. Sitting up slightly to look at the lady, she saw the lady was quite comfortable but not at all interested in resting. Avoiding eye contact to seem distracted, she talked to the lady a bit, small talk mostly.

Until the lady asked the question, "Why are you traveling?" in a tiny frail voice.

Not wanting to be rude but not wanting to explain the whole situation she just merely stated, "I am going to visit some old friends."

The lady seemed content with that answer and closed her eyes, patting her hand gently as she whispers a final, "Good for you deary, good for you." She drifted off to sleep almost instantly.

Relieved that the lady had left her alone, she sat with her head tilted against the window, thinking of the real reason she was on her way to her hometown. A smile pulled at her lips as memories came back full force. Her thoughts drifted to naughty images when they used to spend days in bed, playing with one another using blindfolds and toys.

Coughing gently towards the elderly woman she looked at her and softly said "Excuse me ma'am I need to go to the bathroom."

Once she safely closed the door to the bathroom, the click of the lock brought up the occupied sign. She sat down on the closed lid of the small toilet, one leg up on the edge of the sink for leverage, and then moved her hand under her skirt. She was thankful that she wore the small bikini panties today as her finger fumbled into the side of them where it found her wetness. She moved around her folds before dipping two fingers inside herself; she moaned gently into the small room.

Not sure she was quiet enough she paused long enough to listen for someone outside the door. When she figured it was clear, she went back to inserting her fingers in and out of her sopping pussy. Her eyes closed thinking of how their weekends would be filled with sex - intimacy off-the-charts and totally wild.

The man had captured her heart, taken her body and still had such a hard grip that her fingers were now moving faster and harder in and out of the wetness. She heard sloshing noises as they moved to her clit, pinching and rubbing. Her orgasm was close. With her leg braced up against the sink she was shaking, and her body tensed when she brought her other hand in to help. One rubbed her clit and the other fucked her pussy with her own two fingers until her climax made the world sparkle and she felt an eruption. Sighing out loud as her view returned to normal, she slowly brought her leg back to touch the floor. Then she stood up, washed her hands and returned to her seat, smiling as she sat down because she felt so amazingly better.

A little while later, still deep in her own what ifs, what might have beens and finally the what might be, she realized the plane was landing. She was home. Her heart suddenly felt warm, at ease - that moment when she knew everything would work out, and the past wasn't as important. The now would be as it should be and she waited to deplane.

The biggest grin flashed across her face -- an almost giddy feeling she had as she stepped off the plane and took a deep breath of that sweet smell of ocean air mixed with the fresh breeze. Pausing to take it all in, like a wave washing over her, her demeanor was completely calm and excited. She edged down the stairs, briskly walking inside the terminal to get her bags. She saw that bags were already beginning to descend down the conveyor belt. She picked up her pace to get there and see if hers had already dropped down.

Watching as the bags passed, looking beyond what was in front of her she doesn't notice him approach her from behind with two arms that wrapped around her and squeezed tight.

She gasped as he bent his head to say in her ear, "It's good to see you, love. How was the flight?"

"It was okay. I thought that I was going to take a cab to your place?" she looked at him inquisitively.

He chuckled out, "Was that the plan? I thought I was to meet you here and keep kissing you here, and here...." slyly kissing her neck in a couple places.

She laughed while she pushed away to grab the bag coming around. He leapt forward to grab it first. He made sure it's hers with a tilt of his head, eyebrow raise included. She couldn't help but look carefully as she followed the ripple of his hard muscles pulled tight from his neck, across his shoulders, down to his biceps, across his chest and then on to his ass. He still looked pretty incredible for the 35 years he was. She nodded as he lifted the bag off and set it on the floor. Yep that was her bag but more importantly, he used to be her man.

Wow that thought crept into her mind before she had a chance to stop it. It sounded as though she was possessive. She wasn't at all, but she did remember the times when this man was everything to her. Everything she ever wanted, yet could never say she was glad she had. They had recently reconnected through an online site where old classmates could find each other.

They started talking again, catching up on the 10 years they missed of each other's lives and discussing old times they had shared. It was as though the 10 years had not gone by, and their bond was still strong. During a couple of their late night conversations it came to light that there were some things they missed about being together, things they even regretted about how they ended. Many months had gone by and their daily conversations became more and more with text messages in between. They couldn't get enough of each other.

Here she was, after all the communication and she was frozen where she stood. Staring at him, wanting him yet not knowing what to do with the moment. She drifted off to another place, sexually imagining all the things they used to do. His hands on her body, the way his callouses would rake against her flesh, hitting the sweet spots to arouse her. She wondered where their sex play would take them this time, or if it would.

He jarred her out of her daydream as his hand caressed her cheek. He took his palm, and gently ran his fingers along her cheekbone, his thumb brushing along her luscious lips.

He leaned in, his arms moving around her; pulling her body into his, he bent his head. His lips gently touched hers at first. Their kiss graduated from brushing tongue strokes against each other to hard dueling against one another. His tongue took over and snaked out, her lips parting to accept it willingly. She swam in the feeling of their tongues stroking, bodies pressed together, giving him control of their spit-swapping duel.

The kiss continued for a long time, until she opened her eyes slowly, looking in the direction of the baggage claim to notice that there were a few people staring at them. Quickly she broke their kiss and tried to adjust herself by ironing out her shirt with her hands. Her lips were swollen, her nipples were peaked to perfect hardness, and her inner thighs slightly dampened from the building moisture.

She smiled as she nudged him with her elbow, leaning up to speak so only he could hear. "I do believe that people are staring at us!"

"Yes love, they are looking at us because you are the most beautiful woman here and you are kissing me" he said happily while looking around at the people.

Her eyes darted beyond him to the couple that was smiling and pointing. A bit nervous, she backed away attempting to writhe out of his arms. The attempt was futile as he bent to her ear and whispered "I will let you get away for now but know one thing for sure, as soon as I have you alone you will be naked and begging, for days."

Gulping hard, she felt beads of perspiration slither between her breasts. She moved to grab the last of her suitcases and returned to stand beside him, fully aware that the whole time his eyes traveled over her, desire more than apparent across the smoky grayness of his eyes. He chuckled as he saw her gulp again and rub the muscle in the back of her neck, knowing full well that his watching had an effect on her; it always had. Some things just couldn't change no matter how much time had passed. The chemistry and sparks between them were still electrifying like fireworks lighting up the night sky just being close together.

Her fingers twisted in her hair as she announced, "Okay that's the last of them, we can go when you're ready."

He winked with a smirk as his all-male slightly-aroused tone came out in a hushed voice "Oh love, you will go off, when and only when I tell you..... oh wait you mean you are ready to leave the airport...oh let's go then."

She knew he did that on purpose and avoided the temptation to hit the man for his comment. Her cheeks were red and her head down as they began to walk out the doors to the vehicle. She watched her suitcase roll in front of her as a guide to the direction they were going. She saw many cars go by walking down the aisle until he stopped next to a black vehicle. Sure that the blush must be gone by now she looked up to him and then inspected the car. Black sedan, modest but sporty-looking with tinted windows and a bumper sticker that showed his support for a football team.

The trunk popped open and he placed all the bags inside the deep pocket of the car, when she realized that she needed her purse from one of the bags. Seeing the one to attack ahead of time she bent to almost climb inside the deepness to open the zipper and rummage around for it.

Finding it she pulled it out but stopped suddenly when she felt his body pressed behind hers. No space between them, she felt his thighs tightly pressed to hers and his hard cock pressed into her ass. Wiggling slightly to pretend she was struggling got him to move back and a firm smack replaced where his pelvis was against her.

Squeaking and jumping upright quickly, her head hit the edge of the trunk lid, she glared at him, "What was that for? Either you were happy to see me or you keep rolls of quarters in your pocket."

"The spank was for the wiggle that was not at all necessary but I enjoyed both the wiggle and the smack, I better get you home before I take you bent over that trunk right here for all to see."

Again the heat in her body had risen to considerable amounts as she hurried to the front seat of the car, pulled on the door and jumped in. He joined her in the driver seat and started the car, both of them almost panting from hunger for each other. They made small talk and subtle flirts as they drove to his house, but her mind couldn't help but reel at the fact that she was staying with him instead of a hotel. Yes, after all these years she still trusted the man, but at HIS house?

It was too late now as they drove up the long windy driveway to his house. At first she saw the 3-door garage, and she wondered why he would need so many, then her eyes moved to the guest house sitting atop them and then over to what looked like an enormous house. Wow, when he had said he had enough room he wasn't kidding.

"Um, how many bedrooms and bathrooms is it that you have exactly?" her eyes wide with surprise as she whispered the question.

"Well the guest house has two and that is where the gardener and his small family live, then the main house has 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms, but love, you need worry about only one room. I will not have you stay in any room but mine, I plan to have you all the time and therefore you have to stay close." his voice matter of fact but still gruff with arousal.

She was shocked at his response, but she knew that arguing with him would be pointless. She just nodded and kept her head down staring at her clasped hands in her lap. This was going to be the best week ever, but she was worried about wanting to return to her life after living in this fantasy. The man still had charm, wit and rough bad boy looks with some business suave thrown in. He had her body wanting him, her mind using all of its hamster wheels, and she was damn sure that if he didn't reach out and touch her again soon she may just die.

She was startled that he was opening her door and his hand reached in to hers. She got out and was instantly thrown into his arms. They just stood there a minute in an embrace. The world disappeared and she felt that comfortable easiness wash over her.

Yes this was going to be one hell of a week. She could hardly wait to get inside the house and have him kiss her, touch her, lick her and anything else he wanted to do to her. Breaking the embrace, she grabbed his hand and practically ran into the house with him. She slowed impatiently while he unlocked the door.

He pushed the door open forcefully and it crashed into the wall. She giggled knowing he was just as impatient as she was and ran into the flung open door. Reaching the stairs she wiggled and pulled on her shirt in unison, crawling it up and over her shoulder blades as it moved effortlessly over her head and off to the floor. Ascending up the steps she shed each item of clothing she had on and froze at the top, realizing she has no idea where his room was or if he even wanted to take her to his room. Frozen in place she thought a million things wishing for his guidance.

His rough voice was directly behind her as he chuckled and whispered "To the left and straight ahead, the one with the posts to tie you to is mine."

Shivers running up her spine she gulped and headed in that direction as she heard him call after her, "Um, lover when you get to the bed I expect you to merely sit on the edge, I will meet you there."

Time seemed to slowly tick away as if they were in slow motion when he appeared in the doorway, his body already naked, his more than adequate cock standing at attention. Her breath hitched in her chest as she gulped for air. The way he looked, not chiseled but athletic and not perfect with a few scars and wrinkles that he had gotten over time, stirred her. She closed her eyes to regain her composure as she heard his footsteps move closer to where she sat as instructed. She had taken the liberty to cross her legs so as not to let any of her juices trickle onto the bed.

When his hand reached out to caress her cheek she exhaled, as a shiver again ran up her spine, her head tilting up to look up at him. The fire in her core, the ignition between their eyes created an almost instant spark in the space between them. But at that moment there was no world around them; it was only the two of them, their eyes locked on each other and their souls embracing. It was so right, so comfortable.

Closing her eyes, her heart soared while her mind got lost in clouded bliss. She felt his hand run from her cheek down to her lips and softly trace each lip in its own detail with his soft fingertips. Trailing further down her neck to her chest it glided over her left breast and stopped at her nipple, tweaking it gently at first then harder. Inhaling sharply she squirmed as his other hand joined the assault and pinched the other nipple. Pinch, hold, release on both sides in unison caused her breath to come in short fast spurts as the continuous efforts caused her to moan and squeak. Her legs automatically uncrossed, her hands held onto the bed for strength as her pelvis clenched with each sharp pain the pinch of her nipples caused.

Her senses were on overload, her body was shuddering with need and want. She looked up at him again to see his intense gaze reading her movements. Her reaction fueled him onward to her mid-section. Her eyes pleaded for more, she whispered "Please" simply.

He chuckled and pushed her backward gently with a simple reply "I thought you would never ask!"

He climbed upon her newly adjusted spread out body, growling like a tiger as he stalked all the way to her neck and nuzzled in to bite her quickly. He took her skin between his teeth and she squealed with pleasure and delight at the goosebumps he left along her skin where he had brushed. Excitement slammed into her as his cock lowered over her clit and ground into it.

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tagAnalVictoriaslice - My Bathtime Fantasy

Victoriaslice - My Bathtime Fantasy

Yesterday afternoon I was enjoying a relaxing bath, as the steam rose over the tiles I flopped to one side and opened my legs, as I felt the longing for a cock.

The bubbles crackled gently over my skin and I ran the soap over my body gradually building lather onto my sensitive nipples. I loved to take a bath when I was very horny and the sun was shining in through the windows, it seemed to heighten the experience.

I eased my fingers down to my freshly shaved pussy. I parted my pussy lips and my cunt was soft and very silky. I took the bar of soap into my hand and enjoyed working myself up with lather on my cunt.

I opened my legs more and dangled a leg out of the side so that I could give myself more pleasure. I had a large plain dildo waiting on the side of the bath. And I knew the time was right to slip it into my supple cunt. It slid in easily and it wasn't difficult at all, it fitted just right.

I fucked myself steadily in the hope of climaxing but I wasn't ready at this point and ensured that I wanked my clitty steadily and firmly to get myself near the edge of cumming.

If only I'd had someone to fuck my arse for me. So with my fertile imagination I thought up a guy who was sexy and tall with dark hair. He had a dirty big cock and stood right in front of me wanking his foreskin back and forth. The head of his cock started to drip and before long it covered his whole cock with the rhythmic sweeps of his hand.

I slid the dildo from my pussy and pushed it into my arse hole. Wow it felt great, my arse was more than ready to take a big dildo in it. I fingered my cunt hole and wanked for him as he watched me.

Then he approached and stood right at the side of the bath, making me sit upright to lick the sticky cum off of the tip of his cock. It tasted heavenly and made me almost cum. I could smell his dirty big cock, it turned me on even more and I wanted to take it all in my mouth but also wanted to just simply savour the experience of just licking the head as it produced more salty cum for me to taste.

He leaned over towards me and pulled my hand away from my cunt and pushed it towards him. He took the dildo and fucked my arsehole steadily with it. The entire experience was very sexy and my hand found its way to his balls which I gently stroked and pulled on making him groan with pleasure.

I had to part his arse gently as I stroked his perineum and teased his arsehole with my finger tips. He parted his legs wanting my fingers inside to pleasure him. I slipped in a finger and he loved it, I could feel his cock throbbing inside my mouth as he enjoyed the sensitive feeling that I gave him.

In the bath I was enjoying getting my arse fucked by his handling of my dildo and I would have climaxed had he touched my clit at that time.

He pulled the dildo from my arse and pushed it into my hand. He continued to finger my cunt and wanked me a little faster with his fingers. I was on the edge and gasping for breath as I pulled his cock from my mouth and returned to licking it in long slow sweeps.

I slipped that dildo into his arse hole easily and he loved it, moving himself up and down to ride it as he pleased. I licked up his shaft and sucked on his balls taking them into my mouth one by one, just to pleasure him and slow down his orgasm at the same time.

Well, so much for slowing things down, suddenly I pulled away from him and screamed out that I was coming on his hand and also pissing into the bath water. It was all I could do to continue pushing the dildo into him as he shot his warm spunk onto my face, lips and into my mouth. It slipped down my chin and onto my neck as he drained his balls onto my face.

That was probably the greatest bath time fantasy I had ever had -- fantasy men always do as you want!

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tagReviews & EssaysWhy I Shoot

Why I Shoot

Yeah, I know, firearms are a hot topic these days and for good reason. One can hardly read the news without hearing some story relating to them and I apologize to those who come onto this site for a reprieve on the topic. However, this isn't a rant to the legality of the issue, those opinions I'll keep to myself. Instead this is just me putting to paper what being able to shoot has meant to and given me.

I grew up with firearms in the house, they were kept locked up in a steel cabinet and Dad had the sole key on his key ring. As kids we were just taught to not mess with them and when we grew old enough we were taught how to use them. There was never a temptation to use them when Dad wasn't around and it was a thrill the couple of times a year we got out to the range. That's just the way it was. As we grew older though, time became a precious commodity and there seemed to be less and less time to go to the range till eventually we just stopped going altogether.

Fast forwards a few years and I'm about four and a half years into my six year enlistment in the Navy. Things were going pretty well and I was looking forwards to wrapping up the last bit of my enlistment and moving on with my life. My ship was due to leave in short order and I was spending one of the last nights enjoying a comfortable bed before trading it in for a rack. In the morning when I awoke something seemed not quite right with my vision, like a black curtain covered half the vision from one eye. So I did what any person in the internet age would do, I Googled it and found something about a retinal detachment. Well that was about all the motivation I needed to get my butt out to the hospital and a couple of hours later it was confirmed to be so. Hey for once searching the symptoms turned out to be right! Just wish it hadn't been that correct.

Anyways, got the surgery needed and avoided going blind in that eye but was settling into a long recovery time. A few months into this and I still didn't have great vision from my right eye, the one I'd had surgery on. That also had happened to be my dominant eye so it did make some things interesting to say the least. To say I was frustrated was an understatement, my freedom was gone as I didn't trust driving myself and got around due to a thankfully half decent bus system.

How I got there I'm still not fully sure but one day I found myself standing in a local gun shop. I was just there to admire some of the firearms was what I told myself but it didn't take long till I had wandered up to the range. My non-dominant eye's vision was still crystal clear so I decided to try out of one the .22's, a small caliber for those who don't know. Nothing very powerful but cheap to shoot, I think with range fee, rental fee, and a box of ammo it was still under $30.

It took a couple of minutes to calm my nerves, it was my first time holding a firearm in years and while I was confident that I could put all of the rounds safely downrange and through the paper the nerves were still there. Slowly the pistol was raised and the sights lined up, the first round loosed at the paper not that there was a reaction in the paper and being such a small caliber it's hard to see the holes. The target was reeled in and closely examined till I found the tiny hole that was punched into the paper.

Elated, I sent the target back and emptied the rest of the magazine into it, each shot slow and deliberate. How long I spent there is up for debate but I went through the 100rd box of ammo and ended up with a hole just a little bigger than my fist in the center of the target. More importantly though, I'd gained a lot more confidence than I had realized that I'd lost. It was something I'd needed, physical proof that I could move on after the surgery, that I could overcome the drastic change in my vision.

It took about a year to get all of the surgeries I ended up needing done and for the bulk of that year I wasn't able to see from my right eye. Yet whenever I was feeling down there was always the range and the chance to reprove to myself that yes, I could indeed overcome this. That's what shooting gave me, my confidence back and that is why I continue to participate in it to this day.

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by gnome_man09/08/15

Hi There, Please Feel Free To (Whatever) Me. Literotica is here for more than just erotica. You can certainly avoid articles like these - the title and description were certainly NOT ambiguous. It's amore...

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Juvenile Court

Juvenile Court

Honorable David J. Reader, Chief Judge of Livingston County Courts

Honorable Miriam A. Cavanaugh, Probate and Family Court Judge
John Evans, Circuit and Juvenile Court Administrator

Tanya Morrow, County Juvenile Officer

 New Security Requirements for OnLine Services

Livingston County has established new security requirements for using OnLine Services; which include court payments, court record lookups and court schedule inquiry.

Use this link to see whether your browser complies.

Use these instructions to make adjustments to your Internet Explorer Settings.

The Juvenile Unit of the Family Division of the 44th Circuit Court has the responsibility of handling Child Protection and Juvenile Justice cases. The portion of Michigan Law giving authority to the Juvenile Court is the Juvenile Code .
Child Protection cases arise when a petition is filed, usually by the Department of Human Services  (DHS), alleging that there has been child neglect or abuse. The overall purpose is to assure the safety of children and prevent any further abuse or neglect, rather than to punish adults. The Child Protection area also handles Adoptions and processes youths' request for Emancipation of Minors.
Juvenile Justice cases arise when a petition is filed with the court. A petition is usually filed by the Prosecutor, alleging that one or more laws have been broken by a youth under age 17, which leads to a Juvenile Justice "Delinquency" case. In general, The court’s role is to support the current and future safety of the community by providing services to support the success of youth and their families in avoiding future system involvement.  Petitions are also filed related to Status Offenses such as when parents come to court regarding Incorrigibility or when the school district elects to bring issues related to Truancy to court. There are also requests for Personal Protection Against Minors. Finally, when a youth under age 17 receives a traffic ticket, there is a way to handle the ticket informally through Juvenile Court.


text:
Melancholic Pink Beach

These films are Sensia Overdated (2008) , the Pictures are totally Over exposed due to the stuck aperture of my lens at f3.4 (even if my setting said I was at f/16 or f/22) I shot at around 125/1 on a bright daylight, however the result is still very interesting with that serie of shots.
Ps:The dog on most of the pictures was masterless, desperately looking for affection and care.