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155 ) - The Perfect Thanksgiving

As only children, my wife Coral and I have always dreamed of having a large family. We met as teenagers in high school and despite our differences (she was a half-black, half Korean foster child and I was the All-American blue-eyed and blond kid from a rich family), it was love at first sight. I honestly think though that it was our desire for a life style that put family at the center that did it. I proposed when we were seniors. Coral was afraid that my family would disown me and she was right.

Nonetheless, we were determined to make it on our own. We married at city hall a few days after graduation. Then a stint with the Army's military police for me while Coral used a scholarship to complete computer courses at the local community college gave us the training we need to get work in the security field. After working for a large company for three years. We saved up enough money to start a small security firm. We worked hard for 5 years and lived on a bare bones budget. No vacation. Used cars with at least 60,000 miles that I fixed up. Cheap meals like meatless chili or store brand macaroni with cheese.

It was harder on me than it was on Coral. As a former foster child, she was used to being poor. In contrast, I hadn't had to do without anything I ever wanted for the first 18 years of my life. Even the military hadn't cured me of a taste for the finer things in life. Sometimes I literally ached passing by a showroom and looking at the new car that I couldn't afford. But if there was one thing that was as hard on my wife as it was on me was the rule about no kids for the time being. Once we were settled financially, Coral could get pregnant and we'd set about building our own basketball team.

But fate has a way of intervening. Shortly after Coral's 30th birthday, she placed a small white plastic square on the breakfast table. I looked down to see a bright pink plus sign in a small window in one corner. I knew what it was, but I stupidly asked anyway. "Are you pregnant?"

"Yes," Coral answered, then burst into tears.

"Oh, honey, don't cry," I soothed her.

"But all our plans!" she sobbed.

My guts twisted, but I put on a brave face. "It's okay, we're only about 6 months ahead of schedule with the baby thing anyway. You keep working until the baby comes and we'll be fine."

"Really?"

Looking down at the hope on her little kitten face, I had to lie. "Sure. And I'll work a few extra bouncing jobs so we can have that spare bedroom fixed up as a dream nursery just the way you've always planned."

But it didn't turn out that way.

Coral was morning sick from the start and could barely keep a thing down. Yet, she was gaining weight at an amazing pace. At eight weeks, she had to switch to maternity clothing --an expense that was a drain on our personal savings. Still it was a shock when the ob gyn announced during the ultra sound that Coral was carrying not one baby, not two, but three. We were expecting triplets!

The medical verdict was clear. Coral had to cut back her work hours immediately and begin taking daily naps to conserve her strength for the delivery.

Then, Coral called me one day while I was out on a surveillance job. She'd never done that before. She was having contractions, but the babies weren't due for another 4 months. I rushed her to the hospital where she was placed on bed rest indefinitely.

I realized that hiring someone to handle Coral's work for the remainder of her pregnancy and postpartum weeks was going to eat up all of our profit margin. Still, what could we do.

After Coral came home and I set her up in the bedroom with a stack of DVDs and novels. I made the hardest phone call of my life. I hadn't talked to my dad in nearly a dozen years. I didn't even know if he'd talk to me at all. But he was polite and listened while I laid out our business plan and explained how Coral's pregnancy complications were derailing things. I asked for a small loan, just enough to get through this rough patch. He said he'd have to discuss it with my mother and his lawyers. I should expect a call in a few days with an answer.

I hung up and went into the kitchen to fix a meal for Coral. Something easy to digest but wholesome. There were plenty of vegetables and lean meats, but the problem was I never learned how to cook. I had been taking sandwiches to work for the past 8 years so I figured that there would be some cold cuts left. I found some salami and bologna. Both seemed salty and fatty, nothing I wanted to serve a pregnant woman. There was a box of oatmeal and I remembered eating a big bowl of steaming oatmeal with cream every morning as a kid, but I discovered that the milk had gone bad during the three days Coral was in the hospital.

I decided to step out and buy something some take out place when the doorbell rang. I was shocked when a look at the security am displaced my father's face. He was grayer and a little thickened, but completely recognizable. Behind him, I spotted my mother's distinctive red hair.

I was so surprised I flubbed the security code twice and had to call my own office to tell the night guy to shut off the alarm so I could open the door without setting it off. When I opened the door, my dad said "Joe...Son, I'm so sorry!" We fell into each other's arms with my sobbing mom squished in between.

Reconciliation wasn't going to happen instantly, but I knew that they wanted me to forgive them. I felt like there was some one else that they needed to ask it of first. We went upstairs to talk to Coral.

As always she was gracious. I watched tears mingle with smiles as my parents laid their palms on my wife's huge belly to feel the precious limbs of their grandchildren moving.

In end, my dad offered me not a loan, but access to a trust that he'd set up for me that I never knew about. It was a huge help. He and my mom also gave us a brand new fully-loaded minivan as a late wedding gift and hired an interior decorator as a baby shower gift. Later, my mom revealed, would talk to Coral about a part-time nanny when she was ready to go back to work.

The next months passed by pretty uneventfully. The babies came early, but that was to be expected. Coral had a c-section and little Rose, Richard, and Rachel had to spend a couple months in the NICU until they gained enough weight to go home. We spent hours each day visiting them and marveling at the tiny fingers, toes, and noses. The two girls were identical, the product of a miraculous spliting of a single egg. Richard of course was from a single egg that Coral had double ovulated, but he resembled his sisters to an amazing degree. Physically fragile at less than 4 lbs at birth, my son had an almost feminine beauty that only the tiny penis belied.

Each baby had Coral's slanted eyes and their skin was a creamy shade of light brown. It was clear who they'd look like, but I felt pretty sure their fiesty temperments came from me. The Brown triplets were louder and more demanding than other NICU babies.

Finally, a couple days before Thanksgiving, we got to bring them home. My parents were expecting us for dinner and I was the happiest I had ever been. There was just one problem.

I hadn't made love to my wife in a year. Between morning sickness, bed rest, the c-section, and the constant hospital visits to the triplets, we'd been celibate. After a few months, I had jacked off regularly, but it wasn't as exciting as Coral and I always felt unsatisfied. Infidelity never occured to me although my job had presented many opportunities with strippers, lonely housewives, and bored corporate secretaries.

The fact is that Coral's dark honey skin, slanted eyes, and long curly black hair never failed to excite me. I'd only dated Nordic cheerleader types before Coral and she seemed so exotic when she walked into my biology class during the second semester of sophomore year. Unlike the other girls who wore preppy sweaters and skirts or designer jeans, Coral's foster mom sewed her outfits in leftover fabrics from her job in a small scale sweat shop. They weren't designer outfits but they suited Coral's exotic coloring and curvy figure better than plaid skirts and sweater vests ever could. I fantasized about her for two weeks before I struck up the nerve to ask her out. In the end, Coral beat me to the punch by asking me to the Sadie Hawkins dance. By the end of the night, we were a couple, by the end of the months lovers.

Kisses, hugges, and cuddling in bed with the triplets cooing in their cribs in the next room was sweet, but I missed the physical intimacy of sex. I wanted to strip Coral bare and suckle the bountiful breasts that feeding three babies had produced. Coral couldn't actually nurse them all sufficiently, but she pumped continously and mixed the breast milk with the expensive preemie formula that formed the basis of the babies' diet. Watching her pump had been torture for me. I wanted to run my lips along the c-section scar to see if the slightly puckered pink line was as sensitive as it looked. And I wanted to taste her pussy to see if the hormones of pregnany and lactation had altered the sweet-salty flavor any.

Thanksgiving night seemed the perfect time. I arranged for my mother to pay the nanny double overtime to watch the babies when we returned from dinner so Coral wouldn't be distracted. I also bought a sexy nightgown in a pale jade green shade that would complement her skin and hair.

Next all I needed was my wife.

Returning from dinner, we put the sleeping babies in the capable hands of Mrs. Balton and retired to the master bedroom. Coral confessed being relieved to hand the triplets off because she was tired. This alarmed me and I suggested a warm bath before bed in the hopes that the citrus and basil bath salts she favored would revive her. What I didn't know was that the single glass of wine Coral had with dinner had muddled her mind so much. I guess she accidentally poured a bottle of the lavender and chamomile bath gel we used for the babies' bedtime baths. The wine and aromatherapy made her so sleepy that I walked into the bathroom to find her lightly snoring in the warm water.

I pulled the tub and watched as the suds receded to reveal her rosy nipples, then her belly button, and finally the pink button of her clitoris between her knees. I leaned forward to kiss her there, but the movement jostled and awakened her. "Hmm, Joe?" she murmurred.

"Come to bed, Coral." I answered.

"Okay," she said sleepily and I scooped her up in a big fluffy towel. By the time I walked from the tub to bed, she was asleep again.

Laying her on the bed, I realized that it would be difficult to wrestle my wife into the fancy nightgown. Nor was it necessary. She lay there bare and inviting in a passed out sort of way. Her skin was a dewy light brown except for three pink areas --her large nipples, her vulva and the thin pink c-section scar. I decided to explore each one.

First, I reached out and stroked her left nipple. I knew from watching Coral pump that it was more sensitive than the right one. To my surprise not only did my fingers coax out a droplet of milk, the sensation made Coral moan sexily. I stroked faster until the nipple was actually jetting out milk. Coral moaned louder and looking downward I could see that her legs had fallen completely apart and she was glistening wet.

I decided to produce the same results on the right nipple. Soon, she was moaning and twisting in her sleep. However, the wetness woke her up a little. "Uh, I'm leaking. I musta forgot to pump," Coral said sleepily. "Can hand me the pumps, Joe?"

I instinctively reached for the machine, then froze. This was a duty I had often performed and resented. I hated watching the machine suck on those breasts that I was denied. I decided to see if I could play substitute.

I turned on the machine so that she could hear the rhythmic suction sound. "Let me hold the pump for you, sweetie." I said. She nodded and closed her eyes. I placed one pump on her less sensitive right nipple, and then I fastened my mouth on the left one. I was instantly rewarded by a gush or warm sweet breastmilk. My cock stiffened and I moaned so hard that I almost lost the nipple. I unzipped my pants and fondled myself while I emptied the breast. I let go just in time,because Coral opened her eyes and sat up. "I need to go to the bathroom," she said.

"Let me walk you sweetie, you're so drowsy."

She shook her head. "I have to...you know... number two."

"Don't worry, honey I just want to walk you so to the toilet so you won't fall. Then I'll stand outside the door until you're finished."

She agreed. And I did stand outside the door, but I left it opened a crack so that I could see inside.

Coral had been a bit constipated due to the pregnancy and lack of physical activity. She took laxatives, but confessed that it was still difficult to void her bowels. I recommended bring it up with her doctor, but she said she had another remedy that was working well. I was shocked to see it.

After a couple minutes of pushing, Coral perched with her feet up on seat and fingered her own clit. Evidently this made her bowels relx significantly, because she was able to pass a large stool with only a little wincing. She wiped herself clean, flushed, washed her hands, and sprayed with room freshner. Then she called out to me.

I came forward and walked her back to bed. Again, she fell right back to sleep.With her breasts emptied, Coral always chose to lay face down on the bed with a pillow benath one knee. I saw that this position left her generous blackgirl butt uptilted enough so that I could see her pink slit and anus. Both looked slightly open. I guessed this was from her masturbating and the passage of the turd. For me it was the perfect opportunity. I stripped off my pants and boxers, grabbed the baby oil and slid right into her pussy.

It was like heated silk. I pumped in and out slowly. This produced a few moans from Coral, but she didn't wake up. I reached around and fingered her clit until she was shuddering with the need for an orgasm, but she still remained sleeping. I decided now was my chance after all these years to sample her ass.

Coral was always reticent about anal sex. I'd let her put me off for years, but now with my cock already well-lubed up and her asshole partly open from the large turd, I couldn't resist. I pushed past her spinchter and almost shot off my load right then.

My fingers slid into her pussy beneath and rocked against her g-spot. Soon I was rewarded by the delicious spasm of her pussy as she orgasmed.

It set me off and I jismed like a fountain deep into her wide open bowels.

It was the best Thanksgiving ever.

She

Monday, June 27, 2005 at 13:44

154 ) - Life

If you people want true life truth good or bad,just mail

Friday, June 17, 2005 at 14:21

153 ) - life

God as we no as the allmighty.If us as beings do well in life.We always say look how clever I am,how strong,brave ect..But when some thing goes wrong,Look what God has done.Never God has got me where I am now.In life we as beings,never praise God as some one,some thing which carrys us through life.But when things go wrong it is allways Gods fault!! Not mine!!

Friday, June 17, 2005 at 14:17

152 ) - My husband's emotional affairs

I have been married for 7 years. During this time, my husband has had emotional affairs with three different women. I just want to get his off my chest.

When my husband and I were newlyweds, I cut back my work hours to part-time (25 hrs a week)so that I could go back to college full-time. This was a minor financial hardship because many of the expenses related to working full-time (commuting costs, gas for my car, work lunches, etc.) were also cut in half. However, I also had to cut the amount of housework and child care (for my daughter from an earlier relationship) I did. In the evenings, I locked myself away in the garage and studied until 1 or 2 in the morning. It was difficult, but I felt these were necessary sacrifices so that I could get a job that paid more than minimum wage once I graduated.

My husband felt resentful about the extra housework and having to give up his weekly poker money to pay the bills. He started using the internet and met a woman. This woman was what I now know is my husband's type.

I'll describe this type:
She's between 29 and 35.
She is unhappily married with 1 or 2 kids.
She wants to leave her husband, but can't because she doesn't want to take her kids from their dad and/or she doesn't think she can make it financially without him.
She is lower middle class, but grew up much better off and resents her husband's inability to provide the things she thinks she has to have (jewelry, vacations, a cleaning lady, private schools for the kids)
She has a sick mother (either physically ill, mentally, or alcoholic)that she has to leave near to take care of. This keeps her from taking time out to care for herself (beauty parlor, gym, or just reading a good book in a bubble bath), but being up all hours of the night gives her time to talk to men on the internet.

I'll call the first one Mandy.

Mandy lived halfway across the country and they never met, but she and my husband had an emotional affair. They even planned to run away and start a new life together. Then Mandy got pregnant again by her husband. My husband had a mental breakdown and went into the hospital with what he thought was a heart attack, but ended up being an anxiety attak. I learned at that point that he had been using our credit card to pay for the things Mandy's husband couldn't. He begged my forgiveness. I felt an immense amount of guilt about the way things turned out with my returning to college so I forgave him.

I graduated and for nearly a year things were perfect. Okay not perfect, but we were happy. Then I got pregnant. We had wanted this for a long time. I had a baby while in college the first time (which is why I dropped out), but I had so much pelvic damage from her delivery (10 lbs 2 oz) that I wasn't sure I could have another. Unfortunately I miscarried at 9 weeks. My husband then started his second affair.

I'll call this one Carleen. Carleen was actually having a physical affair with a third man that my husband didn't know about. Her husband shot her, which is how we all learned about it. My husband was contact my her husband's lawyer as proof of Carleen's infidelities. I found out just when I'd finally gotten pregnant a third time. So I stupidly stayed.

On to emotional mistress #3. Her name...well, I'll call her Ashleigh. She and my husband work together. He talks about her non-stop and I've intercepted a few emails. He's planning to leave me and the kids. She doesn't want him to, but she does want to consummate their love. I'm saving all this evidence for the day that I call a lawyer and sue his pants off.

Friday, June 17, 2005 at 09:47

151 ) - IT Takes A Village

My name is Patsy Williamson.Iam the only parent of one wonderful son name Luke,age 10.I have been working with children for nine years.I have a true love for children and have develope a deep compassion for them.As a child I found a strong faith in GOD.I was born into a hard life with my family.IT is my own experience that make me connect with children of disfunctional families.I desire to foster parent children.My dream is to own a home.IT will be a blessing for my family as for the children who need me.Iam seeking a LEGAL PERSONAL LOAN,to pay back over twenty years.Please consider if you can.For what you do for a stranger,you do so for GOD.I would like to answer any questions and give you a chance to know us better.May you always have joy and GOD BLESS. PATSY WILLIAMSON 216 RUSSELL LN. PEGRAM,TN 37143

Wednesday, June 15, 2005 at 12:26
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