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Dominatrix involved in priest threesome seen in Lady VI promo. That was when I asked him if he was my guardian angel. For a minute, there was a very strange look on his face, and finally he said, "Yes.

He gave and still gives me advice on what to do, and always has a way of finding out what will happen next. I recently found out that he is dying of a fatal heart disorder.

It is crushing me inside, but all I can hope for him is heaven , where he came from, and where his sacred spirit belongs. In the summer of , we got our daughter Sarah a new twin mattress for her bunk bed.

I had taken it upstairs and was trying to get the old one down. Our stairs can be hazardous, so I kept saying to myself, "Kristy, be careful.

When I was upstairs, I looked out at the happy sight of my three children playing with their German Shepherd , "Sadie," and their daddy keeping a close eye on them.

When I started to move the old mattress down the stairs, I slipped and lost my footing, and I began to fall. Thousands of thoughts raced through my mind in that split-second.

Send me an angel. Well, I got not just one, but two. I felt two strong, masculine arms grab me and reach under my arms and pull me up, and I felt a second set of hands grab my ankles and push me firmly back on the stairs.

Then I looked and, lo and behold, the mattress was at the bottom of the stairs placed neatly and upright against the wall.

I went outside to ask my husband if he'd been in the house and he said, "No. My brother has good luck " channeling " angels. He informed me it was Michael who grabbed under my arms and Uriel who grabbed my ankles.

I was shopping at the local department store with my 1-year-old son when the following happened: As I was looking at some product on the shelves, a computer hutch fell from a desk and struck my infant's head.

The hutch bounced off his head and landed loudly next to the cart he was in. I watched in horror as the force of the blow snapped my young child's head back violently.

He sat there dazed for a few moments then started to cry out in pain. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how badly he was hurt.

He wasn't bleeding, but what about internal damage? I just stood there consoling my child, hoping that he was okay. An elderly African-American gentleman tapped me on the shoulder.

He was wearing a brown raincoat and hat and had a Bible tucked under his arm. I just nodded my head mutely. He placed his hand on my son's head and prayed quietly for a few minutes.

When he was done, my son stopped crying. I gave my son a big hug and turned around to thank the gentleman—but he was gone. I searched the aisles to find him, but he was nowhere.

He'd disappeared into thin air. I had my son X-rayed the next day and he turned out to be fine Many years ago, I was driving my daughter and some other children to school.

I pulled up across the street from the entrance as so many cars were pulling in the driveway , and I got out and to help them all across the street, not realizing I had closed and locked my door.

Frantic, I tried every door, but to no avail. I ran into the school to get a coat hanger and ran out to the car, which by now was idling very fast.

I remember saying, "Oh, dear God, help me please! In that split-second, a man dressed in what looked like 19th-century clothes approached and said, "Looks like you need some help.

I was so happy. I reached into my car to give him some money, which took all of a second, and when I looked up, he was gone! I looked all around in every direction.

I should have seen him walking away because the area was very open and he couldn't have disappeared that fast. I know it was an angel—my guardian angel, I think, and I will never think anything else as long as I live.

My father was a cross-country truck driver and my mother was frequently on her own. My mother was a beautiful but fragile blue-eyed lady with long, soft blonde hair.

I describe her because it's important to the story. When I was 4, my mother decided to take a night job. She usually stayed home with my 6-year-old brother and me.

She hated leaving us but we need the extra income, so she found a babysitter, and feeling a bit apprehensive, went to work. I can't even remember the babysitter's name because she was not with us long.

My brother, Gerry, and I were sent upstairs to bed that evening, and, as many little kids do, we fought sleep and paid more attention to what was going on downstairs.

Our babysitter's boyfriend had come over and soon we realized that she had left with him. My brother tried to reassure me when I began to cry.

I remember him leaving the hallway light on and saying mom would be home soon, but I was terrified.

As I lay in my bed, I looked toward the hallway, and in the doorway stood my mother. I could see her long, blonde hair and the concern in her eyes.

She said something soothing—I can't remember the exact words—and she came over to the bed, took me in her arms and rocked me to sleep.

I remember feeling so secure and safe in her arms. In the morning I could hear my mother rattling around in the kitchen. I got up and went down to greet her, still feeling secure and safe.

When I got to the kitchen she greeted me with the usual, "Good morning, Sunshine! She had just arrived home. Who rocked me to sleep? I often think of that night and I now think an angel took my mother's appearance and calmed me down.

For me it was the beginning of knowing that someone watches over me. Many times I have felt that presence, but I never saw my mother's face on an angel again.

I was living in a small town in Texas. To unwind after work, I would always take a drive out in the country, traveling mostly on back roads.

This activity was heightened in the summer months when I could watch the many mighty thunderstorms pass through the area. She worked as a journalist and producer at Bloomberg TV in London, and in international markets as a branding consultant.

She asked that her privacy be respected — LeJeune is not her real name, though she posts photos of herself at Skirt Club events, and out with her husband on her Instagram page.

LeJeune sees herself inhabiting the huge gray area between straight and gay. She concedes that she may have been wrong, but she felt too intimidated to find out.

So, she started her own event. The theater of it helps women relax their inhibitions. In some cases, Quinn says, women saw Skirt Club events more like a networking opportunity than a sex party.

At the last London party she attended, a number of women wanted to network. So at on a Thursday night, Courtney and I arrive for the party at a club in the South of Market neighborhood.

A male bouncer lets us past the door into a bar area warmed by tungsten glow and furnished with afghan rugs, ample seating on red velvet-covered chairs and inexplicable, charming typewriters.

Women mill about the room. One of the half-dozen Skirt Club volunteers — a tall woman in her 20s wearing a black lingerie top, tight black pants and heels — greets us, champagne flute in hand.

I got mine from that Eric Clapton song. Soon, a pinup-style, bejeweled burlesque dancer with wavy pink hair and opulent breasts begins to shake and strip to the music.

Burlesque shows are a rarity at most sex parties in the Bay Area, but a staple at Skirt Club events. Instead of the mostly skinny, femme, cis-gender women at Skirt Club, local parties tend to have women of all sizes from all parts of the gender, race and sexuality spectrum.

LeJeune insists that creating an ambiance of comfort and luxury is essential when courting bi-curious women — and the reason why tickets cost what they do.

Her vision for Skirt Club came out of what she felt was sorely lacking in other sex parties. I wanted the ambiance to help me get into the mood.

Skirt Club is undeniably pretty — maybe too pretty, and expensive, and heteronormative to attract or accept everyone who might like it.

The burlesque dancer takes labored breaths between stanzas, eyes going big from the sweeping movements. Nervous giggles and claps emerge at intervals from the crowd.

Nervous giggles and claps emerge at intervals from the crowd. Afterwards, a few girls give the hair pull a try, their blowdried locks swaying over their shoulder as they jerk in feigned resistance.

I ask Moon what she thinks of the party. The Skirt Club events, she says, are providing femme, bi curious women their own space to experiment.

The words we have to describe sexuality are too frail to contain the dynamism of the human experience. Quinn, the British dating coach, agrees.

I approach a pretty, shy girl at the bar named Mona. She tells me that she grew up in a religious, sheltered household. Then she looks at her card and asks if she can give me a spanking.

Soon, the Skirt Club hostesses corral everyone into circles for games of Spin the Bottle. They gather women into circles, then sit down and twirl a sparkling wine bottle to see who it will land on.

In some cases, the kisses are passionate. One of the hostesses, a tall woman with long brown hair and big eyes, spins a bottle that points to me and I move in.

Turns but the game is the same as it was in sixth grade: more transactional and theatrical and than erotic. One kiss was enough for me, so I back away from the table.

But this is also San Francisco, with its tradition of nonconformity. Do they actually want to find a woman to go home with or is it just the excitement of possibility?

Her girlfriend Jess, who is more androgynously dressed in jeans, a button-up shirt and vest, tells me that she feels out of place — but not as much as she expected.

Courtney agrees. By , the party is winding down. Before I leave, a woman named Sonja tells me the story of her first same-sex experience with a female friend.

These women dove right in. Software Images icon An illustration of two photographs. Images Donate icon An illustration of a heart shape Donate Ellipses icon An illustration of text ellipses.

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EMBED for wordpress. Want more? Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! Usage Attribution 3. The many explicit sex scenes had to be cut in order to keep this on the Archive.

This film is part of a series I'm posting on vintage fetish films, not porn. Story: A blond girl caught watching a couple having sex is harshly spanked and whipped.

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Seeing this is a equal opportunity site. I will not judge you Those are my feelings and curiosity led me to read it. Say la vie. P ut some peanut butter in your cunt and the dog will lck your vagina.

P eanut butter, butter they will lick and fetch the lot out and your pussy juice. I put a huge scoop of peanut butter in my cunt and my female dog licked it clean.

Her tongue felt good licking my pussy. I'm ready to do it again. I had a lady over my knees skirt pulled up arse cocked up no nickers I pulled her cheeks open and put loads in and around her arse oh my he opened her arse up more butter more butter she cum everywhere.

I 've tried it before when I had a dog. Got out of the pool and loved it when he started licking off the dripping water off my bathing suit ass and then it prompted the idea to bring him to my bedroom later on God it was so good Just licking over and over and that BIG tongue licked everywhere I would have wanted it to lick.

I t also feels really good to have a dog lick my ass. I think they must like the way it tastes and smells.

And I sure like to feel their tongue there. It's fun when the dog sniffs while he's licking I wonder if they can tell how much I like it when my ass puckers up and opens and closes..

I think I might cum just thinking of it. Y our description of your bum hole and the smell of arse and the puckering I've nearly and will cum thinking of it.

O ne time when I was 15, I was at a friend's house when she had to leave. She had a big house with a long staircase and a cute little mutt.

I was alone in the house with the dog on the stairs when he started trying to sniff between my legs. At first I laughed and tried pushing him away, but it felt kind of good.

I opened my legs a little for him and I could feel his little furs lightly brush the inside of my thighs as he pushed his nose up to my crotch.

He kept sniffing, so I undid my shorts and pulled them down and pulled my panties aside so he could get to my pussy.

He seemed to like it when I did that because he could really smell me then, and taste me. I took off my panties and he started licking me kind of slowly and gently and rhythmically, making sounds with his tongue.

I sat back on the stairs while he licked, and I opened my legs wider. His tongue was warm and moist, and felt really good. I moved my hips ever so slightly while he licked.

The combination of light pressure and wetness began to send me into a tense sort of frenzy and I started sighing and breathing louder, letting the little dog lap up my juices.

I could feel how swollen I was getting and my pussy started tingling. I liked watching him lick me and move his tongue sometimes across my clit, sometimes lower where I was dripping He moved it over my clit just the right number of times, keeping me really tense with anticipation.

When I finally came, it was the strongest, hardest orgasm I'd ever had and I called out loudly many times. What a memory. I t is amazing!

Your pussy just feels so good! I started when i was 11! I have a girl friend who has 2 big dogs, a Great Dane, and a Boxer, and she lets them do her regularly, she has tried to talk me into trying it, and even though she looks like she is in ORBIT when one of them is doing it to her,I haven't quite gotten up the nerve yet to try it.

I've watched her quite a few times and it's really hot, and she gets really wild with them inside her, she says the knot is fantastic, I makes her almost pass out, when he puts it in her, his knot swells, and he can't get out of her and she can't get off him so she just kneels there until he's finished cumming, then the swelling goes down and he can get it out of her,by then she's full of cum.

She's trained the Dane to fuck her Missionary, she has a bench that puts her at just the right highth so he will mount her and he gets on her and drapes his paws over her and like lays on her tits and gives it to her.

I let the Dane lick my pussy one afternoon, and she's right, it was fantastic, that long, rough tongue goes clear inside you,and that rough texture, after you get used to it, drives a girl insane.

I almost let him fuck me that day, but then I chickened out. He sure wanted to. These dogs are as clean as any guy I know, she suckes there cocks and gets them so hot for her that they go nuts trying to mount her.

About half the time they get her ass instead of her pussy, but she says that's just as good. They just sort of switch back and forth. H ave done this a lot of times, from the age of 13 with our springer spaniel, to when I was pregnant and got the urge to now..

He likes to have me hold his cock whilst his cream comes all over the outside of my pussy, then he loves to lick it all up and doesn't stop licking until he's succeeded.

I have let him put his cock inside my pussy before, but didn't want him ejaculating in there, so pulled him back a bit so it was just on the edge of the outside of my pussy.

But he loves giving me a good tonguing and seems to love pushing his little tongue right deep inside. It's the ultimate sexual pleasure.

I have made my dog lick my pussy it felt so good, I spreader my legs and the dog just went in there and licked my clitis real smooth and wet I was just about to have an orgasm but then the dog stopped but now I do it often because it feels so amazing try it girls, and maybe even put peanut butter down there they will lick harder.

I have to admit that I too secretly let me dog lick my pussy every morning. Sometimes I use my pocket rocket while he licks it and my cum just runs out of me.

Wish i had a bigger dog with a bigger tongue. W ell there isn't many dogs who back away they love it perhaps he prefers it to stink I'm single have a hard on will soon have my tongue tasting the juice.

Y es, I worked with some physical therapists who happened to mention that one of their girlfriens put peanut butter on her pussy and let her dog go to town!

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