"I was back from school for winter break when I met my mom's new boyfriend for the first time. My parents divorced when I was five, so it wasn't like it was traumatic or anything to meet the guy. I didn't expect him to be so damn hot, though. He's a personal trainer, and fit as hell—six-pack-abs-and-ripped-arms fit, like you see in advertis.e.m.e.nts for weight loss supplements and gym membersh.i.p.s. When he rang the doorbell one night around 6pm looking for my mom, who was out at the time, I decided to play hostess in my comfy but clingy sweats. I invited him inside and poured us each a glass of wine.

Two hours later, we were two bottles deep and neither of us had heard from my mother. I made the first move, touching his knee and then sliding my hand up his inner t.h.i.g.h. When I got to his crotch, he leaned back and said, 'F.u.c.k it!' Then he stood up. I stood up too, on the seat of the couch. Then I jumped into his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his waist and impressively firm a.s.s. His d.i.c.k felt so good poking through his pants, rubbing up against my v.a.g.i.n.a, I knew I could o.r.g.a.s.m from dry humping him just like that. But I wanted him inside me, so I reached down and grabbed it. We f.u.c.k.e.d—fast—in the laundry room, where we had a view of the driveway in case my mom came back. Most of our clothes were still on, and we powered up the washer so it would vibrate beneath me as he pumped and pumped, deeper and deeper. It was the dirtiest thing I've ever done, and I'd do it again."