<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519581806351851995</id><updated>2011-11-12T04:28:10.039-08:00</updated><category term='sext stories'/><category term='story'/><category term='sex'/><category term='sad story'/><category term='love story'/><category term='hot night'/><category term='stories'/><category term='Costa Brava'/><category term='love'/><title type='text'>Stories Worth to Read</title><subtitle type='html'>Sometimes we make up stories, sometimes we write real incidents as stories. But very few times we publish them. Over her we have tried to publish few stories with various content. If you like then do share this with all.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5519581806351851995/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Subhajit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15842621715056859183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519581806351851995.post-4095897914597938958</id><published>2011-11-12T04:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T04:22:48.093-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love story'/><title type='text'>But a Love Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once this guy who is very much in love with his girl. This&lt;br /&gt;romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to his&lt;br /&gt;girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, at that time he was just a small fry in his company, his&lt;br /&gt;future didn't seem too bright, they were very happy together. Until&lt;br /&gt;one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come&lt;br /&gt;back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for the&lt;br /&gt;both of them, so they went their own ways there and then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartbroken, the guy agreed. But when he regained his confidence, he&lt;br /&gt;worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make&lt;br /&gt;something out of himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally with all the hard work and the help of friends, this guy had&lt;br /&gt;set up his own company ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never fail until you stop trying. One rainy day, while this guy&lt;br /&gt;was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain&lt;br /&gt;walk ing to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still&lt;br /&gt;drenched. It didn't take him long to realize they were his girl's&lt;br /&gt;parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the&lt;br /&gt;couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them&lt;br /&gt;to know that he wasn't the same any more; he had his own company, car,&lt;br /&gt;condo, etc. He made it! What he saw next confused him, the couple was&lt;br /&gt;walking towards a cemetery, and so he got out of his car and&lt;br /&gt;followed...and he saw his girl, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as&lt;br /&gt;ever at him from her tombstone and he saw his paper cranes right&lt;br /&gt;beside her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her parents saw him. He asked them why this had happened. They&lt;br /&gt;explained, she did not leave for France at all. She was ill with&lt;br /&gt;cancer. She had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not&lt;br /&gt;want to be his obstacle... therefore she had chosen to leave him.&lt;br /&gt;Just because someone doesn't love you the way you wa nt them to,&lt;br /&gt;doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. She had wanted&lt;br /&gt;her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day&lt;br /&gt;comes when fate brings him to her again...he can take some of those&lt;br /&gt;back with him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you have loved, you will always love. For what's in your mind may&lt;br /&gt;escape but what's in your heart will remain forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy just wept...The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting&lt;br /&gt;right beside her knowing you can't have her, see her or be with her&lt;br /&gt;ever again.........hope you understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find time to realize that there is one person who means so much to&lt;br /&gt;you, for you might wake up one morning losing that person who you&lt;br /&gt;thought meant nothing to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5519581806351851995-4095897914597938958?l=arosingstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4095897914597938958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/2011/11/but-love-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5519581806351851995/posts/default/4095897914597938958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5519581806351851995/posts/default/4095897914597938958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/2011/11/but-love-story.html' title='But a Love Story'/><author><name>Subhajit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15842621715056859183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519581806351851995.post-461144307211746469</id><published>2011-11-12T04:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T04:18:23.653-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hot night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sext stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Costa Brava'/><title type='text'>A Hot Night on the Costa Brava</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;A Hot Night on the Costa Brava&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The year that my wife Susan and I first went to Spain for our holidays was way back in the days when the British were starting to go on package tours to the continent. We found the weather hot, the booze cheap, and the measures plentiful. One night we had left our hotel and had gone into the nearest village for visiting a few bars, drinking a bit more than we should have done. On the way back Susan wanted to stop and have a drink at a beach bar which was being used by some of the waiters from our hotel. After serving dinner they used to play soccer on the beach and then have a quiet drink. Susan was determined to flirt with these guys, and made no pretence at any modesty, all this the result of drinking too many rum and cokes. The waiters who were all young and fit must have thought that all their xmas's had come at once, and encouraged her behavior. I was at a loss to know what to do, if I tried to drag her away there would be a terrible scene.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I visited the men's room and by the time that I returned she was actually sitting on the lap of one of the guys. When I saw hands reach out to start stroking her legs below her little mini skirt I thought that enough was enough and told her that we were going. However the waiters had other ideas and so did my wife so I had to sit helplessly as the hands disappeared under her skirt, while other hands started to unbutton her shirt and play with her breasts. There were 6 waiters and the barman, too many to fight, and to be trueful I had started to get turned on by the unfolding situation. Suddenly, after a short discussion in Spanish they lifted Susan up and laid her on a tabletop. Her skirt was removed, followed immediately by her little red knickers. Soon she was stark naked apart from her heels. Her legs were pulled far apart and I had a perfect view of her cute little pussy, as did everyone else.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;One of the guys was younger than the rest and they talked him into going down on her. She went crazy with lust as the young Spaniard's tongue rampaged inside her pussy lips. After just a short time Susan almost screamed as she was bought to orgasm in such a public way. The guy who had eaten her out was the first one to mount her, Trousers round his ankles he powered into her cunt like he was in a race. Somebody else had managed to get my drunken wife to take his lengthy cock into her mouth, so she was taking Spanish cock at both ends. The young guy in her pussy came very shortly and was replaced by a more experienced man who brought Susan to orgasm again before emptying his cock into her belly.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The party seemed to go on for ever as soon as mouth or pussy became vacant there was another erect cock ready to fill it. The only thing that Susan didn't like was when a couple of guys fucked her up the ass, after liberally drenching it with olive oil. She started crying and the guys let us go returning all her clothes apart from her panties. We walked back to the hotel with cum oozing from between her legs. Once inside our room I got her into the shower. This sobered her up somewhat, and she complained that she had never been so sore, and that it was all my fault.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The next morning neither of us mentioned the previous evenings events until we looked at the hotel flagpole, from which hung, my wife's little red knickers.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5519581806351851995-461144307211746469?l=arosingstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/feeds/461144307211746469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/2011/11/hot-night-on-costa-brava.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5519581806351851995/posts/default/461144307211746469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5519581806351851995/posts/default/461144307211746469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arosingstory.blogspot.com/2011/11/hot-night-on-costa-brava.html' title='A Hot Night on the Costa Brava'/><author><name>Subhajit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15842621715056859183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>