Read Online The Autumn Diaries by Lexi Maxxwell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lexi Maxxwell
Tags: Erótica
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inside of my dripping wet trajectory. If we went to a toy store, I’d start thinking of furries. And I don’t even really like furries.
When Sam asked me to come over for Easter, I told him yes by bending over the bathroom sink and dropping my pants. Sam is a good boy. He didn’t comment; he just dropped his own pants and shoved his cock up into my eyeballs through my pussy, then fucked me so hard I shattered that little cup thing he keeps his toothbrush in. Because I was feeling both super cock-hungry and apologetic, I was sure to be a good girl and turned around fast when he was about to cum so that I could finish the job with my mouth, and Sam painted my tongue and the roof of my mouth with his man batter.
Then, after getting back from the Easter service (where, again, remember, I managed to refrain from diddling myself because Jesus doesn’t like it when you do that in church), I was so horny that I shoved Sam into the attached garage and into his mother’s Buick and rode him in the back seat. I kept my top on because this was Easter and there are ways a lady shouldn’t behave. But I made the mistake of making that joke to Sam later, and he laughed, but the joke rebounded at me and I started getting all turned on again, and so right before the ham was finished, I pushed Sam into the basement, tore off my Easter blouse and the bra I’d worn because nice ladies wear bras in church, and told him to fuck my tits. He did, standing up, and then coated me in Easter gravy, which I then rubbed all over my nipples.
Sam’s mother then called him to help make salads, so he tucked in and ran up the stairs. I had to stay downstairs and rub one out. I got a handful of Sam’s spunk first, and rubbed that in while I got myself off. What the hell, I’m on the pill.
I guess we ate a meal after that or something. I think there was pie.
A P R I L 10
I’M STARTING TO GET MORE and more reader mail from people who’ve read my stuff. It’s pretty gratifying. I write back with my smutty thoughts and filthy mouth and these ladies just keep coming back for more. The funny thing is that the tone of the conversations — pussies and cum and cocks aside — is still mostly about enhancement and freedom. It’s as if they’ve wanted to discuss this stuff and to think about this stuff and maybe to tell the other people in their lives about their own feelings and lust and desires, but have never felt like they could. Until now. Until Lexi Maxxwell showed them that it was okay — that you could be a smart, real woman and be a slut at the same time.
I can’t believe it looks like I’ll be able to do this full time eventually — writing smut as my full-time fucking job.
I can’t believe that while I’m doing that — while I’m doing my best (and succeeding) at getting a lot of hands rubbing wet pussies and jerking hard cocks — I seem to actually be making a positive difference in the world.
A P R I L 15
TO CELEBRATE THE “1 WEEK after Easter” holiday, I dressed up in a schoolgirl outfit and surprised Sam in his apartment. Sam wasn’t aware that there was a “1 week after Easter” holiday or that it was celebrated with a slutty schoolgirl outfit. I unzipped his fly and got out his cock, then sat on it. Sam continued to feign ignorance. So after fucking his cock for a few minutes and cumming twice, drenching Sam’s pants, I got down on my knees, took off my shirt, and jerked him off onto my tits. Then he hardened back to what we’d done in the basement and looked at all of the sticky, gooey cum between my boobs and dripping from my nipples and said, “Oh yeah, now I remember.”
A P R I L 27
I HAVE THE BEST JOB in the world. Or at least, I’m slowly building up to it.
So here’s what happened today: I went to the post office. For a normal girl, this is just a by-the-way sort of a thing — the sort of errand you handle between getting a few Xeroxes at Kinko’s and picking up a gallon of milk at
When Sam asked me to come over for Easter, I told him yes by bending over the bathroom sink and dropping my pants. Sam is a good boy. He didn’t comment; he just dropped his own pants and shoved his cock up into my eyeballs through my pussy, then fucked me so hard I shattered that little cup thing he keeps his toothbrush in. Because I was feeling both super cock-hungry and apologetic, I was sure to be a good girl and turned around fast when he was about to cum so that I could finish the job with my mouth, and Sam painted my tongue and the roof of my mouth with his man batter.
Then, after getting back from the Easter service (where, again, remember, I managed to refrain from diddling myself because Jesus doesn’t like it when you do that in church), I was so horny that I shoved Sam into the attached garage and into his mother’s Buick and rode him in the back seat. I kept my top on because this was Easter and there are ways a lady shouldn’t behave. But I made the mistake of making that joke to Sam later, and he laughed, but the joke rebounded at me and I started getting all turned on again, and so right before the ham was finished, I pushed Sam into the basement, tore off my Easter blouse and the bra I’d worn because nice ladies wear bras in church, and told him to fuck my tits. He did, standing up, and then coated me in Easter gravy, which I then rubbed all over my nipples.
Sam’s mother then called him to help make salads, so he tucked in and ran up the stairs. I had to stay downstairs and rub one out. I got a handful of Sam’s spunk first, and rubbed that in while I got myself off. What the hell, I’m on the pill.
I guess we ate a meal after that or something. I think there was pie.
A P R I L 10
I’M STARTING TO GET MORE and more reader mail from people who’ve read my stuff. It’s pretty gratifying. I write back with my smutty thoughts and filthy mouth and these ladies just keep coming back for more. The funny thing is that the tone of the conversations — pussies and cum and cocks aside — is still mostly about enhancement and freedom. It’s as if they’ve wanted to discuss this stuff and to think about this stuff and maybe to tell the other people in their lives about their own feelings and lust and desires, but have never felt like they could. Until now. Until Lexi Maxxwell showed them that it was okay — that you could be a smart, real woman and be a slut at the same time.
I can’t believe it looks like I’ll be able to do this full time eventually — writing smut as my full-time fucking job.
I can’t believe that while I’m doing that — while I’m doing my best (and succeeding) at getting a lot of hands rubbing wet pussies and jerking hard cocks — I seem to actually be making a positive difference in the world.
A P R I L 15
TO CELEBRATE THE “1 WEEK after Easter” holiday, I dressed up in a schoolgirl outfit and surprised Sam in his apartment. Sam wasn’t aware that there was a “1 week after Easter” holiday or that it was celebrated with a slutty schoolgirl outfit. I unzipped his fly and got out his cock, then sat on it. Sam continued to feign ignorance. So after fucking his cock for a few minutes and cumming twice, drenching Sam’s pants, I got down on my knees, took off my shirt, and jerked him off onto my tits. Then he hardened back to what we’d done in the basement and looked at all of the sticky, gooey cum between my boobs and dripping from my nipples and said, “Oh yeah, now I remember.”
A P R I L 27
I HAVE THE BEST JOB in the world. Or at least, I’m slowly building up to it.
So here’s what happened today: I went to the post office. For a normal girl, this is just a by-the-way sort of a thing — the sort of errand you handle between getting a few Xeroxes at Kinko’s and picking up a gallon of milk at
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