Biographies of the Presidents Parents 1. In a day of piety and powdered wigs, good breeding was essential. While the family gave up such titles in the new country, Gus, as his friends called him, continued to maintain several business dealings in England, along with his new ventures in America. With the demands of his business pursuits drawing him away from home and family, Washington provided little in the line of fathering to his young son, George.
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: I turn over to squint at the clock. All is quiet in the house. My hand moves instinctively to my morning tumescence; it feels warm and inviting, somewhere between soft and hard.
Squeezing it releases a delicious wave of pleasure. I turn onto my back, and let my mind drift into erogenous territory. Somewhere out there on the plantation, Pierre and Hans will be well into their job as overseers by now.
My cock stiffens as I imagine them lashing their slaves.
I wonder which whips Dad decided to equip them with? Perhaps he let them choose their own. Dreamily, I massage my cock, as these erotic thoughts stimulate me towards a full hard-on.
With my other hand I tickle my balls and rub my nipples, sending waves of additional pleasure into my thrusting erection. I can feel the sap rising, far too rapidly. So I cease the massage and press a finger hard into my perineum.
That staunches the flow of juices, delaying my climax. I want to prolong this delicious sensation for a while yet.
I think back to last night.
I can see those two hunks, strutting their stuff in their leathers, flaunting their male sexuality: Pierre the wild animal; Hans the cruel disciplinarian. My lips are still burning from the kiss that Pierre all but devoured me with.
My cock pulses, just as it did then; but now I can work it with my hand, urging it upwards and onwards. My fist pumps with increasing urgency, driving my ecstasy to a mind-blowing explosion! Six or eight times my body bucks and convulses as my cock goes rigid, shooting great gobs of cum high in the air.
I grunt and gasp, as my whole body is transported into the stratosphere of delirium. For some time, I lie there panting, enjoying the warm glow that follows orgasm. Gradually my heart-rate returns to normal, and my breathing becomes calm again. It feels good to be alive. I do like weekends, when the day can start like this!
Eventually, I haul myself out of bed, and stretch languidly. I splash some water on my face, and pull on some clothes. Time to go down for breakfast. But, out on the landing, I find myself drawn to the stairs that lead up, rather than down.
I creep carefully up to the top floor, and listen at the door of the guest-room. I turn the doorknob and step inside. What a scene of devastation meets my eyes! Saddle-bags gape open, spilling their contents; clothes and towels are strewn all over the floor; a discarded pair of leather breeches thrusts its rear provocatively upwards, as if still occupied by the bottom of its owner.
Pillows are scrunched and bundled across the bed and on the floor. A leather belt is slung over the bedpost, and another pokes out from under the scrambled bedclothes.
The sheets are creased and twisted into contorted sculptures, their pristine whiteness splattered with the stains of dried cum.
The other bed, by contrast, is still neatly made up, just the way it was when they first arrived: The room reeks of stale sweat and spent passion. My cock leaps to attention, as my mind races to visualise the orgy which all this evidence suggests. I can see them bucking, sucking and fucking!
I can hear the crack of leather on bottom; the slurp of cock in fellatio; the cries of lust and ecstasy, as they take each other every which way, no orifice left un-plundered!Seward Square is an area of downtown Washington, D.C..
It is where the Reilly's Rangers compound is located.
Seward Square can be reached through Anacostia Crossing station and can also be reached through a sewer system from Pennsylvania Ave or through The Capitol Building from The Mall. A. A Short Autobiography by Steve Gregg. I don’t know whether it seems egotistical for a man to write autobiographically, but I have always thought that the unusual providence of God in my life makes a rather interesting, and, I hope, edifying tale worth telling.
This is the maximum Basic English combined wordlist. It is what the advanced student will know when moving from Basic English to the standard English language. THE SECRET DOCTRINE: THE SYNTHESIS OF SCIENCE, RELIGION, AND PHILOSOPHY. by H. P. BLAVATSKY, Author of "ISIS UNVEILED." "There is no Religion higher than Truth.".
This is an arbitrary division forced by the limitations involved in handling large files. Abt, Roman Born in Bunzen, Switzerland on 17 July and died Lucerne 1 May This is the maximum Basic English combined wordlist. It is what the advanced student will know when moving from Basic English to the standard English language.