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Playground Sandbox


Briana

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As a child in white suburbia Ohio, I remember having a sand box in the backyard. Many Summer nights were spent playing matchbox cars with friends as we would build streets and houses. Then, when I reached my teens the sandbox became the place where the girls in the neighborhood would lay in or around and pretend they were at the beach in their teeny tiny bikinis while us boys would be playing football or baseball in the backyard. 

One Summer it was particularly warm and the girls who had started growing buxom, would lie there with their bikini tops unstrapped so as not to have tan lines. By then our football and baseball games had become secondary to watching the girls as they laid there, occasionally having to stand up and throw the balls that mysteriously rolled over towards them. The way they would throw the balls back and their ample bosoms would bounce as their bottoms would drop showing the hair that was growing made us all drool. 

By senior year, we had discovered the joys of smoking marijuana and exploring each others young bodies, traipsing naked and dancing to Prince and Michael Jackson naked, the sand between our toes feeling so warm as we would kiss and touch each other. Tasting each others bared parts. blowing smoke into each others lungs as we kissed and fell down on top of one another. The weed and warms sands alleviating all of our inhibitions as we would lick and suck each others naked parts. Learning what 69 was truly like and growing hard as the girls would rub, suck and lick as we rubbed sucked and licked them... lying back as they would climb aboard, their wet tight fresh 18 year old bodies engulfing our manhood pulling them in deeper with each bounce of their hips. Faster and deeper they would bounce as we grew harder and harder inside them. Each of us trying hard to outlast the other guy and their girl. The girls giggling and riding slapping our chest and cheeks as they clawed us with pure passion. screaming for their approvals to their deity to please them more... gritting our teeth as we were about to explode, until the pressure and ecstasy proved too much and the explosive conclusion would take over leaving us smiling, hot, sweaty messes. Having to clean the girls with our tongues so that they could keep their hidden passionate afternoons secret.

I miss those carefree sandbox days. 

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