The south is full of ghost stories from the Civil War era. Some people believe that a lot of souls were trapped on this earth during that vicious war and some soul still wander in search of their resting place. This story is not one of my grandmother’s stories. However, it was inspired by one she told me when I was just a teenager. Christina Parker married Greg Townsend just after graduating from high asian school. She was eighteen at the time, and Greg was twenty-five. Greg never advanced past the tenth grade, so he was forever locked into a dead-end job as a laborer. They lived in a run-down shack near the railroad yards. That was all they could afford on his laborer's salary with the B & O railroad. Greg spent his days, and sometimes evenings, loading and unloading boxcars. He was typically exhausted most nights when he got home. His usual evening routine consisted of eating dinner, plopping down in front of the TV and consuming one beer after another until bedtime or until he passed out; whichever came first. That soon took a terrible toll on their sex life. Christina desperately wanted a baby, and Greg wanted a son, but in the eight years they had been married they'd had indian no luck in producing a child. Christina's doctor suggested invitro fertilization, but it was too expensive, and Greg balked at the idea because people would think he wasn't man enough to get his own wife pregnant. It was a constant source of unhappiness for them both. Christina prayed every night that she would be able to get pregnant. She fell into depression, and Greg began to drink himself into unconsciousness every night. After a few years Greg began to show no real interest in sex anymore; at least not when she needed him most. Occasionally he would give in to her plea for sexual relief and climb on top of her, stick his cock into flashing her vagina and quickly deposit his seed before rolling off and going to sleep. There was never any foreplay on those nights. He didn't even bother to kiss her most of the time, nor do anything else that would lead to an orgasm for her. It had just become mechanical with him; shoot his wad and fall asleep. She needed more than that to satisfy her needs. She needed someone to make her feel like a woman again. She was long past the hopes of actually getting pregnant, but she would still like to have a real orgasm every once in a while. She wanted an orgasm that was the results of a hard cock rather than her fingers or the vibrator her husband didn't know about. There was a storm raging outside when Christina was shaken from a deep sleep by a loud clap of thunder. She thought she’d heard someone calling her name from outside. She looked over at Greg, and he was sound asleep. If not Greg, who had called her name? Two orgasms later, the manageress told us to get on our hands and knees, butt to butt. The wet flood and expanded, pulsating knot riding under her clit created sensual overload. In the indian nick of time too – I could only handle one more thrust before I let loose a load with a prolonged “Ooooooh,” slamming into her as the first rope of cum erupted from my dick. He clearly saw Rekha going short of breath. I didn’t care in that moment about anything but keeping the thrill going, keeping he electric energy coursing through me going was all I wanted. I was really getting into it and then I felt my skirt move a little. “What I’d give to do that to a real girl.” The next Wave after wave went through my ass and it looked like an endless movement. I pressed on his chest. For tonight Pinkman’s whore is ours, As I slowed, Tina reached between her legs and grabbed my sack. Julie was stunned. She sang more lines from the song to quieten him. Next, he put the knife into the cut that he had made at the ribs and then yanked it downwards, not holding back at all, cutting deep through layers of skin and then yellowish fat, finally stopping as the knife met with resistance from her pubic bone. This was the precursor to Matt standing up, Megan still impaled on his thick tool, turning her around, telling her to reach behind, grip the coat rail on the wall and wrap her long smooth legs around his waist. Anonymous648: My name is… Mason felt a buzz rush through his body. He swept her hair aside to fasten the buckle at the back of her neck then, abruptly, turned away and left the room. He would softly touch my hair and flashing face while I sucked and played with him. His pants were around his ankles, his cock was in his hand, and his eyes were on me, swimming with desire. To be continued Michael groaned, "Ahhh". Manjula pulled up a chair to sit behind him. “That’s it? asian I’m taking her to a car show this weekend. This is what I understood: “Maybe in eighteen years, you'll have a new daughter to breed.” That’s the truth. We all heard the bathroom door open and little voices chattering away. She pushed at him and said,”Let me get up on my hands and knees. “Lick your way up my thighs, slowly, then lick my cunt.