Three Filthy Educators: Taboo Barely Legal Erotica (eBook, ePUB)
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Warning: Very taboo. Not for the faint of heart. May include BDSM, incest, and other taboo and forbidden elements. This is a vintage **full length** (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel.********She had been searching through his underthings, because she wanted to find out what he had put there last night after he had been in such a fucking horny mood.Frieda wanted to see what could have caused him to act so... so perverted. Arnold had never acted so... so strangely in their five years of marriage.Usually when he wanted to fuck, he would be very forthright about it. No foreplay, no caress...
Warning: Very taboo. Not for the faint of heart. May include BDSM, incest, and other taboo and forbidden elements. This is a vintage **full length** (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel.
********
She had been searching through his underthings, because she wanted to find out what he had put there last night after he had been in such a fucking horny mood.
Frieda wanted to see what could have caused him to act so... so perverted. Arnold had never acted so... so strangely in their five years of marriage.
Usually when he wanted to fuck, he would be very forthright about it. No foreplay, no caresses or nuzzling noses that other happy housewives get from horny husbands. Usually when Arnold was horny and itching for a fuck, he grabbed Frieda's right tittie with his left hand and her cunt with his fight.
Which usually made her feel like not fucking him because he never nuzzled noses with her, or whispered sweet nothings, or creepy-crawled his hand surreptitiously up her thighs.
Shit, the last time Arnold Higgins had acted truly romantic toward his wife was when she had put too much starch in his Fruit of the Looms and it made him feel like he was wearing a plastic girdle. And Frieda had started to cry in order, to make Arnold feel sorry for her.
Arnold felt more than sorry for his wife. He kissed her... on the lips. Which was very rare for Arnold because it meant a show of affection, a little weakening of the old macho heart. Then he did another sweet thing. He touched her right tit... with his mouth, instead of gripping her tit like a football which he usually did when he wanted to fuck Frieda.
But that sweet, romantic moment had happened almost four years ago. And, since that time; now that Arnold had come to the realization that marriage meant that he could fuck his wife anytime that his cock got hard, he had forgotten about things like kissing and caressing and foreplay.
He was, in essence, no different in his lovemaking than in what he did for a living. Arnold was a coach. A very good coach.
Coach Arnold Higgins was the kind of coach that even coaches want to be.
********
She had been searching through his underthings, because she wanted to find out what he had put there last night after he had been in such a fucking horny mood.
Frieda wanted to see what could have caused him to act so... so perverted. Arnold had never acted so... so strangely in their five years of marriage.
Usually when he wanted to fuck, he would be very forthright about it. No foreplay, no caresses or nuzzling noses that other happy housewives get from horny husbands. Usually when Arnold was horny and itching for a fuck, he grabbed Frieda's right tittie with his left hand and her cunt with his fight.
Which usually made her feel like not fucking him because he never nuzzled noses with her, or whispered sweet nothings, or creepy-crawled his hand surreptitiously up her thighs.
Shit, the last time Arnold Higgins had acted truly romantic toward his wife was when she had put too much starch in his Fruit of the Looms and it made him feel like he was wearing a plastic girdle. And Frieda had started to cry in order, to make Arnold feel sorry for her.
Arnold felt more than sorry for his wife. He kissed her... on the lips. Which was very rare for Arnold because it meant a show of affection, a little weakening of the old macho heart. Then he did another sweet thing. He touched her right tit... with his mouth, instead of gripping her tit like a football which he usually did when he wanted to fuck Frieda.
But that sweet, romantic moment had happened almost four years ago. And, since that time; now that Arnold had come to the realization that marriage meant that he could fuck his wife anytime that his cock got hard, he had forgotten about things like kissing and caressing and foreplay.
He was, in essence, no different in his lovemaking than in what he did for a living. Arnold was a coach. A very good coach.
Coach Arnold Higgins was the kind of coach that even coaches want to be.
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