Murder Mystery Weekend – Chapter 6

I met the three of them downtown. We exchanged hugs and greetings.

– “Ee,” I said, “it’s really nice of you to host us all for the long weekend.”

– “Are you kidding?” she replied. “You guys are doing me a favour. I can’t close the cottage by myself. As for the murder mystery, Teresa is doing all of the work.”

– “It’s going to be so much fun!” enthused Claire. Was she looking at me when she said that?

– “Epic.” said Leo. “C’mon, wingman – let’s get this show on the road.”

It was fun. Leo found his costume quickly, because he knew exactly what he wanted: Jack Sparrow. I tried to talk him out of it, but for once, Leo was right. He looked like Johnny Depp’s shorter and uglier brother, but he did bear a bit of a resemblance to Keith Richards. He also insisted on every accessory he could find, stuck in his belt, tucked into his sash, or somehow dangling from his coat. He looked like some kind of pirate Christmas tree.

The overall effect was quite comical, but the more I looked at it, the more I began to think that it might work. The girls laughed, of course. But then Eliza said: “You look great!”. Leo turned to me with a look of pure triumph, and preened like a peacock.

With his gear stowed away, we could then turn to a more enjoyable pastime: watching the two girls try on costumes. Eliza didn’t think she could pull off a pirate, and they didn’t have much in her size anyway. But then she had an idea.

– “What if I went as a tavern wench? A tempting trollop, or something like that?”

– “A tempting trollop?” I echoed. “Did you just say that?”

– “Shut up Colin. You know what I meant.” She punched my arm playfully.

Eliza tried on a couple of costumes, each of which featured low-cut tops. I’m not ashamed to say that Leo and I both stood up to get a better view.

She found a pair of high-heeled leather boots, and a brightly-patterned skirt, with a fluffy petticoat. Then she uncovered a broad leather belt, and a supple leather vest. It was probably a couple of sizes too big for her, but she needed room for her oversize chest, and the belt held it all together. The piece de resistance, though, was the frilly white shirt. It left her shoulders bare, and revealed a considerable expanse of her bosom.

Leo and I were too afraid to say anything. She looked … scorching hot. Did I mention that costumes were an aphrodisiac? If this had really been the 17th century, I would have wanted to take her into a back room, bend her over, flip up her skirts, and fuck her from behind like a madman. Forget the 17th century – I wanted to do that now. I glanced at Leo. From the look on his face, he was having similar thoughts.

Claire saved us. “Oh, Ee – that’s it. That one.” Her neighing laugh broke the spell. The girls went for a closer look in a mirror.

“Ho-ly shit.” whispered Leo.

– “Amen, brother.” I whispered back.

Luckily for me, Eliza kept her provocative costume on while Claire continued to go in and out of the change room. Lucky, because Leo’s attention was occupied while his sister put on a show. And what a show. The little minx kept trying on more and more revealing combinations.

Claire found a scarlet head scarf, and a huge pair of hoop earrings. She really liked a dark red skirt with black trim, and liked it even better when she pulled up one side and tucked it into her little belt. This revealed one leg to the knee, but the other leg was uncovered to mid-thigh. If you’re old enough to remember Cyd Charisse, you can imagine what Claire looked like.

She added a little black bustier with laces that looked like crossed bones, attached to skull-shaped buttons. She found another shirt like Eliza’s, with short, puffy sleeves, that left her shoulders and upper chest bare. She wasn’t showing much cleavage, but the little bustier lifted her boobs and thrust them forward. That’s when I noticed the magic of the shirt she wore. It did nothing to hide her breasts. Instead, it simply accentuated their shape.

Claire looked incredible. Just looking at her made me think of sex. I would have to rethink my costume, if I was going to have an erection most of the weekend.

– “Jesus, Claire!” said her brother. “How much skin you gonna show?”

She struck a pose, with one hand on her hip. “I didn’t hear you complain about Ee’s costume.” she said.

Eliza and I moved a bit further away, to let the siblings have one of their traditional arguments.

– “Is this too revealing? What do you think, Colin?” Eliza asked me, indicating her costume.

– “Ee, you look fantastic.” I answered. “Very, very sexy. A tempting trollop indeed.”

– “What about you? What are you going to get?”

– “Already did.” I told her. “It’s at home.”

– “Aww.” she said. “You get to see ours, but we don’t get to see yours?”

– “You will.”

If Eliza and Claire were going to look like this, I could only imagine what the four other women would be wearing. I was going to be rock hard the whole weekend.

 

 

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Male Model’s Tinder Experiment Reveals The Look That Makes Women Swipe Right

https://va.topbuzz.com/s/fYdRR

 

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Cherie – Chapter 42 – Cheer Me Up

“How was your night with Cherie?”

Me: “She rode me like a stolen bicycle.”

Last weekend Cherie came down and we went to the movies. It was great. We had finally carved out a little time to go on a real date again. I loved it and so did she.

But this weekend Cherie is coming for something else. That thing that she needs so very much. I need to prepare for this event. Fresh sheets, towels, air freshener, candles, and soft music.

She rolls into town around 7:30pm. Scores parking down at 19th and South, and is walking towards my place. I pop down to meet her and think I’ll see her halfway, but she’s right outside of my walk up when I reach the ground floor.

I’m very happy to see her and as usual she looks beautiful and sexy. I notice she’s wearing the black shirt with the criss cross pieces of fabric across the front. (See: Cherie – Chapter 4 – Ribbons) Of course you can’t wear a bra with that top, so her ample bosom is well in sight.

She enters the bedroom. The air conditioning is on so it’s nice and cool on this July afternoon in Philly. She drops her bag at the foot of the bed and sits. We normally do this. Just sit and chat and catch up on what’s been happening in each others lives. This goes on for a bit and then the serenity in my room starts to kick in. She realizes that for the next twelve hours, there will be no children to deal with, no patients, no studying, no stress.

Just the unadulterated relentless pursuit of sexual pleasure. The pursuit is my favorite part. The beginnings. Gathering the kindling. Getting the spark, and then watching the fire in her loins explode before me.

But I can’t just run at her with a torch and a can of gas. It must start slowly. Slowly relieving her of her clothes. Tender kisses everywhere on her firm lean body. Like soft clay in my hands she yields to my every touch.

But tonight’s different. after our conversations and re-connection, she tells me she has to use the restroom. She grabs her bag and heads in. I walk to my desk and adjust the volume of the music on Pandora. The Music for Lovers mix. So cheesy but we like it.

I get a text.

It’s from Cherie.

“Your adopted daughter Jasmine is coming home soon and wants to see her daddy.”

 

Here we go…

 

Cherie comes out of the bathroom wearing a full high school cheerleader uniform. She looks hot as shit. It’s red and white and looks like the real deal. I love this role play stuff she pulls on me. It’s always unexpected and men hate surprises but if your twenty something shows up in a cheerleader outfit and wants to play, I doubt any man would turn this down.

I’m sitting at my desk and she comes over to me and it’s on. Here we go. She comes over to me and plays the precocious daughter role. She says that mom yelled at her because she wanted to go to the mall and get some stuff and it seems like mom has been really mean lately.

Jasmine loves her dad and knows that mom hasn’t been taking care of daddy and she’s sad about that.

This is classic role play and Cherie has clearly worked it all it out in that pretty head of hers. She comes over to me at the desk and looks exactly like a cheerleader. She’s upset with mom. I am trying to be careful here I don’t want to cross over into sex blog from dating blog. But this is very exciting and mind-blowing

She rubs her lovely brown firm thigh against  mine and tells me she wants things at the mall, and I tell her no.

She says she’s been thinking about her daddy and that she’ll so anything to make me feel better.

I’m doing my best to be a good actor but I absolutely love Cherie’s performance. She’s planned this and has a story line. She’s begging to help me and knows I desire my adoptive African American daughter and how its ok because she loves her daddy and how my wife is a bitch and sucks. (not a stretch for me in regard to my ex-wife)  I’m sitting at my desk in my underwear and my adopted daughter Jasmine is pushing on me and I’m putting my hands on her and as I run my hand up her thighs I feel that she is not wearing any panties.

She pushes my hand towards the moist junction between her legs. Then she pulls off my shorts and attacks me.

 

I’m going out of my mind.

 

I was happy to go to the movies with Cherie last week, and now my love has become a 16 year old cheerleader hell-bent on giving me oral.

I resist but of course I have to play it out. How lucky am I? I scan my mind of the laundry list of people I know and what is happening to me right now. Blessed.

Jasmine pleases her daddy. My god it’s so dirty.

Jasmine wants to know how a man pleases a woman.

How do I describe this other than a cheerleader skirt hiked up around firm hips and a rasping pervert between her thighs playing her lady parts like a symphony.

She mounts me and all I see is Jasmine in her uniform. This is a classic fantasy come true. Blow up the outside world. It’s actually feeding into an old fetish of mine. Jasmine is here and ready to go and be accessible to whatever I want.  Jasmine says she’ll do anything I want. She’s just a younger Cherie that wants to please me. She’s so willing. She is exquisite in her role and plays it perfectly.

This is a new role play for Cherie. If you’ve been following this series, you’ll remember her first character was Riley Carter the bad little school girl. That was mind-blowing. Totally different role. (See: Cherie – 2016 to Present – After School)

Cherie stays in character until we mutually decide to stop.

I know this is a dating blog, but making love to Cherie is amazing. It’s like Christmas morning when you’re a child. It’s on that level of excitement and celebration. Cherie is the most in tune with her mind and body than any woman I’ve ever been with. I think black women in general don’t have all the bullshit in their heads that many other women have. They know what they want and they know it feels good, so if they can get a lot of it, so be it.

She’s the most orgasmic woman I’ve ever met. It’s like a dozen times in one session. Can you imagine if men could do that? Cherie is astonishingly orgasmic. She needs a man with stamina that can go for a long time so that she can enjoy all of these multiple orgasms that she has. I assure you that phicklephilly can deliver the goods.

Which would dismiss the sexual chemistry thing where Ambria couldn’t get her train to the station. That had nothing to do with me. (See: Ambria – Atlantic City) I also know for a fact that Michelle’s inability to orgasm with a man was partly in her head and from over self stimulation. (If you get what I mean) (See: Michelle – A Brand New Day)

I’ve never seen anything like Cherie. She has all of these little ones and then has like a massive climax near the end of the act. Like a grand finally! Then there are lots of encores later that night and the next morning. I’m usually tired the next day after a twelve-hour visit from my sexy little vixen.

 

I feel like Cherie is more beautiful and precious than ever to me now.

 

Unfortunately she has to be up and out at 7:30 tomorrow morning. She’s only parked two blocks away so she gets up, showers and hits the road. For me it’s same thing, then back to the salon for the Sunday shift.

That night my buddy Church called me: “How was your night with Cherie?”

Me: “I rode her like a stolen bicycle.”

 

 

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