<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>Bahamas Porn</title>
	<atom:link href="http://www.bahamascycling.com/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com</link>
	<description>Hardcore at Bahamas Porn Blog</description>
	<pubDate>Tue, 09 Mar 2010 01:10:59 +0000</pubDate>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=2.7.1</generator>
	<language>en</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
			<item>
		<title>The Case Of The Damaged Roof</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-case-of-the-damaged-roof/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-case-of-the-damaged-roof/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 09 Mar 2010 01:10:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Jared</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-case-of-the-damaged-roof/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[He does a favor for his girl, then does her sister.

A few months after LeAnne moved in she came to me with a request. 



"Hun, my mom called and asked if you would be willing to do her a favor. In that last storm some of the shingles on the garage got damaged and she's worried that another storm could do some bad damage. She was going to call a contractor to have come and fix it, but I told her that I would see if you would look at it before she calls anyone else. Would you be willing to take a look at it?"



I had worked a few summers doing construction while I was putting myself through college and replacing a few shingles was a simple procedure.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-case-of-the-damaged-roof/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Condom Tester</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-condom-tester/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-condom-tester/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 08 Mar 2010 23:09:16 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Phillip</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-condom-tester/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[He tests condoms the old-fashioned way.

I worked many different jobs to pay my way through college. Among other things, I waited tables, pumped gas and delivered pizza. You could say that I had a very well-rounded education. In addition to my scholarly education, I learned a dozen different trades. I feel a little sorry for those who had their college education paid for by their daddies. They don't know what they missed.



I took whatever part-time jobs I could fit into my class schedule. My life wasn't all work and no play. The drudgery and boredom were frequently relieved by erotic adventures, like the time I got laid when I delivered pizza to a swinger party. While working the late-night shift at a gas station, a man walked in and invited me to screw his beautiful wife right in front of him. She was an excellent piece of ass. When I was waiting tables, I nailed a waitress while we were on our break. I even played in a rock band at a swinger club and was treated to weekly blow jobs from the wives. But my job as a condom tester was the best of all.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-condom-tester/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Dream</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-dream/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-dream/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 08 Mar 2010 21:16:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Vincent</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-dream/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[She comes to him in dreams.

"Thanks to vella_ms for inspiring me to such heights of… er… fancy."



She claims she comes to me in dreams. On line, each morning, she teases. "Remember last night? What we did?"



I never remember, but when I wake my sheets are soaked and crumpled. Yesterday morning, there was whipped cream on them. And the taste of it, and her was in my mouth.



"Tonight," I decide, "is going to stay in my mind."



Slipping into bed, I chant to myself, "Remember this time. She"ll be here. Make it a time neither of us will forget." I harden at the promise of her coming to me yet again.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/08/the-dream/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Jasmine</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/06/jasmine/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/06/jasmine/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 06 Mar 2010 22:35:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/06/jasmine/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[She's a sex machine and only nineteen.

"Hello, is that Jasmine?"



"Yes. Hi."



"I read your advertisement in the paper. Are you available tonight?"



"Uh, just a minute. Yeah."



The voice sounded young, slightly nasal and decidedly uncultured. It reminded me of Sandy, my first real girlfriend. Promising.



"The ad says you are size 6. That's small."



"Yes."



"How tall are you?"



"Five foot three."



Sandy was five foot two, my favourite height. Pretty close. I am fairly modest in height and build myself so I prefer girls who are short and, and I love tiny titties.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/06/jasmine/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Adventures of Mika Ch. 02</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/adventures-of-mika-ch-02/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/adventures-of-mika-ch-02/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 05 Mar 2010 02:43:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Leonard</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/adventures-of-mika-ch-02/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Dark Stranger shows his dark side.

Mika's lesson: The Dark Stranger shows his dark side. 



Mika leaves the bar and walks toward her car. She had parked at the far right corner of the bar under one of the hanging lights from above, which unfortunately seems to have blown out. Her head is bowed as she looks thru her purse to find her keys, when she's grabbed from behind. Strong arms wrap around her body as the attacker's hand covers her mouth. "Stop struggling and promise not to scream and I'll release you!" A deep, husky voice warns into her ear. Mika nods and the attacker slowly lets go of her. Mika turns to face her assailant, and finds to her complete shock, to come face to face with her Dark Stranger. ]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/adventures-of-mika-ch-02/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>With Three You Get&#8230; Ch. 05</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/with-three-you-get-ch-05/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/with-three-you-get-ch-05/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 04 Mar 2010 21:10:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Phillip</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/with-three-you-get-ch-05/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Ivana gets tied and teased by Janet's friends.

Dinah woke the next day with Mark still wrapped around her. A light breeze fluttered through the open window bringing fresh scents of sea air and floral vegetation and the sounds of water lightly slapping the supporting posts of the huts. Dinah's movements stirred Mark and he hugged her tightly and thanked her for the previous nights entertainment.



"So ... was there anyone here other than you and Janet?" he asked.



"There was actually quite a few people here last night, and they appreciated the show you put on," she teased.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/04/with-three-you-get-ch-05/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Parking Lot</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-parking-lot/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-parking-lot/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 03 Mar 2010 01:14:07 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Willie</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-parking-lot/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sydney and Jim see an office fling and react.

Jim had just pulled into the lot to pick up his girlfriend Sydney. It was 10pm on a Friday night and Sydney had worked late all week. Jim and Syd were supposed to have dinner that night but Syd"s project took a turn and her team needed to deliver the project in time for the start of the day in Germany. 



She picked up on one ring. "Sydney Greene…" Jim loved the sound of her voice, even when it something as routine as a greeting.



"Hey, hon, I"m in the front lot. You want me to park?"



"Hey, Jim. Why don"t you pull around back? I just need to wrap some stuff up, give me 20 minutes. I"m sorry again about dinner."]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-parking-lot/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Last Train Home</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-last-train-home/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-last-train-home/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:08:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Vincent</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-last-train-home/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Late working leads to hot train journey.

Charlotte swore at her PC. She could see the setting sun through her office window and she hadn't even started to work on the last of her rather long and complicated invoices. It would be the last train again.



One small comfort greeted her from that thought. The last train was always more or less completely empty so she would able to enjoy her current raunchy book properly on the hour long journey. As a rule, on her normal, crowded commuter trip, she'd always feel self-conscious while reading it. There was no boyfriend or husband at home to greet her on her return so she had come to enjoy the steamier passages, but had to usually wait to get home to allow her mind free rein to enjoy the writing. With the empty last train Charlotte would be practically cumming before she reached her stop.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-last-train-home/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Clothes We Wore</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-clothes-we-wore/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-clothes-we-wore/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 02 Mar 2010 23:44:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Phillip</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-clothes-we-wore/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[He spends an evening with his wife and her best friend.

I closed the door quietly behind me as I entered the house, feeling a little guilty and figuring Linda would be pissed I was so late for dinner. After an afternoon of golf, my buddies and I had stopped at a bar, and it was almost eight by the time I'd pulled into the driveway. 



Linda wasn't anywhere downstairs, and in the kitchen I saw no evidence that a dinner had been prepared. Hearing laughter from upstairs, I climbed the stairs and turned toward our bedroom. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks and my mouth dropped open. Our next-door neighbor, Marla, was standing there, staring at herself in the hallway mirror.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/03/02/the-clothes-we-wore/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Photogenic</title>
		<link>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/02/28/photogenic/</link>
		<comments>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/02/28/photogenic/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Mar 2010 01:58:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Chris</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore Stories]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Hardcore]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/02/28/photogenic/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[They made their first "home" movie.

She put her hand on my shoulder. She wouldn't lean over to look at the screen. That would show too much interest. She was trying her best to appear detached - perhaps even mildly bored. I clicked the mouse to bring up the next image.



"You're so photogenic." I looked up at her from my seat in front of the computer to see her reaction.



She studied the photo for a moment. In the photo, she was sitting on the sofa with her legs pulled up to her chest smiling at the camera. The smooth white skin of her thighs was exposed above sheer black stockings with a ruffled garter. The short red satin and black lace negligee was pulled partway off one shoulder exposing a nipple. The photo was a study in contrasts. The smile said "wholesome", the stockings said "naughty" and the rumpled negligee said "fuck me". How could any man be so lucky and still want more?]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.bahamascycling.com/2010/02/28/photogenic/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
