1. Former Playboy Playmates Part 4: Julianne’s Depression


    Date: 5/1/2015, Categories: Fiction, Black, Blowjob, Cheating, Female solo, Hardcore, Interracial, Male / Female Teens, Male/Female, Masturbation, Threesome, Toys, Voyeurism, Author: tw_holt, Rating: 88.9, Source: sexstories.com

    Author’s note: This part of series involving fictional former Playboy Playmates. They are all sisters and will each have two stories – the first one will be interracial, the second will be incest. A few of these sisters are introduced in my other story: The Challenge 4. It’s not necessary to read that story but you may think it’s neat to learn a few things about them from it. This story takes place almost a year or so after part one in the series and begins in September (when part 3 ends). Editing thanks go to Todger65. Former Playboy Playmates Pt. 04: Julianne’s Depression Chapter 1 It was 11:30am on a September Saturday morning. Julianne, like always, didn’t want to get out of bed. Luckily, her job as a data entry clerk at the hospital didn’t require her to work weekends. She didn’t like the job all that much, but was thankful she didn’t have to deal with people. Ever since “it” happened a few years ago, talking, working with, and being around people was the last thing she wanted to do. She gladly stepped down as a patient billing manager for something with less pay, if it meant far fewer encounters with people. Julianne sighed, pulling the covers off her body, yawning, stretching, and making her way to the kitchen. She poured herself some coffee from yesterday morning, not bothering to make a new batch, warming it up in the microwave, not caring. Plopping down on the couch, Julianne stared blankly out the front window of her home, focusing on nothing, not even noticing ...
    the kids riding their bikes on the sidewalk. She sniffed, sipping her coffee, yawning once more. She had to go to the grocery store in a little while. She had been putting it off as much as possible, her need for food growing too large to procrastinate any longer. She hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew, cursing herself for not going near closing time when hardly any customers were there. The previous night she fell asleep earlier than her usual 10pm bedtime, missing her window of opportunity. Not bothering to bathe or change out of her sweatpants, she adjusted her blonde bangs in the mirror, pulled her hair back in a pony tail, grabbed one of her son’s old flannel button-up shirts, throwing it over her tank top, and made her way to the grocery store. Julianne was fairly fidgety, walking down each aisle, attempting to hurry up so she wouldn’t run into someone she knew. The last thing she wanted to deal with was someone asking her how she was doing since the divorce, or worse, if she was seeing anyone. The answers were horrible and no. She was miserable. Her ex ruined everything. They were going to buy a boat and sail it all the way to Texas, across the Gulf of Mexico; they were going to retire and move somewhere new and different, they had all these wonderful plans that he ruined. Then “it” happened. When Julianne saw him standing behind a naked, six foot tall Puerto Rican woman, slapping her ass, slamming his hips into her, screaming her name, “Fernanda!” she knew all ...
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