Group Sex

Tales from the Trail

The Appalachian Trail attracts thousand for hiking. Foot paths, streams, rivers, mountains and meadows. Water falls, Trees, foliage and a****ls. Nature calls. The "Parson Twins", one of the original "double Mint" chewing gum twins, returned for a retro video. It was taped and the now 38 year old's and a son, stayed to hike for a week. Still sexy, mature and eye catching, the publicity took them back to their stardom days. Sarah and Susan with Jerry. No one was really sure which one had him. They were too identical to tell. Jerry, his self had the same problem. His youth was spent with other relatives, in boarding schools, always somewhere away. They were too busy to be tied down with him. Their hike was a staged farce. Marked trail, publicity shot selected spots, camp sites were set up for arrival, food prepared, designer clothing and a script. Jerry carried a back pack of camera's, cell phones, and make up kit's. Day 1 Sarah and Susan wore biking type, spandex speedo's with matching tops, accented by short camouflage skirts. Perky breast, bubble butts, honey blond hair, sparkling blue eyes and the perfect smile. The "Double Mint Twins" were center stage again. Their short skirts allowed much leg showing, while the shorts beneath were suggestive but kept everything modest. Point to point, Jerry snapped the pictures. On his personal video cam, he made his private videos. Arriving at the campsite without public scrutiny, they all could be normal. The Twins disappeared into …


A Very Good Friend

The local salon had been good to Caty. At thirty-seven, she had built up a nice clientele, and enjoyed the time with her customers. A down-to-earth soul, she enjoyed the conversations and idle chatter while she transformed ordinary soccer moms into PTA starlets. Occasionally, the conversation was therapeutic for stylist and customer alike. Nearly one year removed from her divorce, she threw herself into her work, voraciously learning all the latest styling techniques and trends. Eventually, word spread and Caty was in high demand. Along the way, she had become pretty adept at forgetting her post-divorce loneliness. Lynora was one of Caty’s original clients. A mature and striking brunette, she simply had presence that filled a room. Perhaps it was her success as an account executive at a Big Five consulting firm, or her brash confidence as a woman who knows what she wants, but those who knew Lynora were either impressed or downright intimidated. Rumor has it her ex-husband was the latter. Over the years, the two formed a relationship beyond “client.” Caty appreciated Lynora’s tales of corporate politics, and was fascinated with the gossip out of the executive wing. Lynora, on the other hand, was struck with Caty’s ambition and passion for her craft, and had a soft spot for a recently-divorced woman trying to make it in the world. They were an unlikely pair, but it worked. From time to time, the two would go out for drinks, mostly gourmet martinis. Inevitably, more intimate …



From the author of Another Yard and Driven Lust Wayne Stewart INCORRECTIONS Copyright © 2014 Wayne Stewart As with any fictional story, this is for entertainment only. Please direct any complaints regarding character words or actions to the fictional character portraying the offense. WARNING: This book contains adult language and depictions of adult sexual acts, which may not be suitable for teenagers below the age of 16; or for anyone who does not wish to read stories containing written descriptions of explicit, erotic sexual behavior. It does contain serious, humorous, and interesting stories of contemporary literature and fictional tales of both romance and adventure; and is intended for a mature audience. Chapter 1 Ok, I’m no macho man. Call it metabolism or genetics; I’m just not bulky like most guys. Maybe I’m just a late bloomer. That’s the reason I was picked for the heist. The plan was simple enough. All I had to do was climb into the ventilation, drop into the jewelry store, and unlock the damn door. The guys would enter, grab the loot, fence it, and split the cash with me. Now, before you listen to them tell you what an idiot I was, let me explain. The cheap shoes I had was all I could afford. They weren’t gripping the metal the way I needed them to and my ponytail, past my shoulders in length, got caught by the hinge on the screen cover at the end. I know, cut the hair, pull or yank it out; all sounds great on paper. But you can’t do that when you’ve knocked …

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