Whether I’m writing about joining the mile high club, attending a “kissing party”, or the joy that comes with not caring about pubic hair, I often address my sex life directly. Sometimes, I even dispense unsolicited advice based on personal experiences on matters such as staying faithful, and which awkward scenarios couples should expect to face in the sack. For this roundup of sensual stories, however, I cast a wide net. What I discovered is that everyone seems to have a saucy tale worth sharing. Below are the top 5 anecdotes of the lot, which are sure to leave you flesh thirsty. (Each story has been edited for clarity.) 1. Jerking around in-flight (male, 30) My college girlfriend had an insatiable appetite for sex. So an hour before heading to the airport to catch a flight to Italy in 2002 (the trip was our graduation gift to ourselves), we had sex. By the time we were boarding, she was already ready for more. Naturally, we checked out the plane’s bathroom, but we agreed that it looked too cramped for a mid-air romp. Undeterred, my gal summoned a flight attendant shortly after takeoff and requested two blankets. Then she draped the navy blue polyester throws over my lap, slipped her hand beneath the makeshift barrier, withdrew my dick, and massaged me to erection. Bear in mind that we were in a three- seat row. She was by the window, I was in the center, and a middle-aged European dude neither of us knew was sitting near the aisle. While jerking me off as slowly as …
A Very Good Friend
The local salon had been good to Caty. At thirty-seven, she had built up a nice clientele, and enjoyed the time with her customers. A down-to-earth soul, she enjoyed the conversations and idle chatter while she transformed ordinary soccer moms into PTA starlets. Occasionally, the conversation was therapeutic for stylist and customer alike. Nearly one year removed from her divorce, she threw herself into her work, voraciously learning all the latest styling techniques and trends. Eventually, word spread and Caty was in high demand. Along the way, she had become pretty adept at forgetting her post-divorce loneliness. Lynora was one of Caty’s original clients. A mature and striking brunette, she simply had presence that filled a room. Perhaps it was her success as an account executive at a Big Five consulting firm, or her brash confidence as a woman who knows what she wants, but those who knew Lynora were either impressed or downright intimidated. Rumor has it her ex-husband was the latter. Over the years, the two formed a relationship beyond “client.” Caty appreciated Lynora’s tales of corporate politics, and was fascinated with the gossip out of the executive wing. Lynora, on the other hand, was struck with Caty’s ambition and passion for her craft, and had a soft spot for a recently-divorced woman trying to make it in the world. They were an unlikely pair, but it worked. From time to time, the two would go out for drinks, mostly gourmet martinis. Inevitably, more intimate …
Nice Things Come in Small Packages
I have successfully raped a dozen women in my time. By “successful”, I mean, I have yet to be caught by the authorities. Which is a good thing because being caught would mean the big house, and I would not want to go there because I have it on good authority that the life expectancy of sexual predators in prison is quite short. For this reason I am very careful in carrying out my “hobby”. Being quite intelligent has been a big plus for me. One day I might get caught. Or, I might “retire” before then. We’ll see. My tastes are varied and the only thing these dozen ladies have had in common is that there were all hot, in one way or another. Some were blondes, some brunettes, and then was an unbeatable redhead once. The girls raged in age from 18 (I am not a pedophile) to late thirties. They also have tended to range in size, and I thought it would be interesting to relate my experiences with the smallest of my victims. At a later date I can provide an account of what it was like with the largest of them. Sort of “book end” stories, if you will. I normally am not that attracted to smaller women, but I do take things on a case-by-case basis, and if a girl has what it takes to make my head swivel as she passes, then I don’t care if she could fit in a match box. The girl I am going to tell you about almost could have fit in a match box. Her driver’s license listed her at 5’1” and 95 pounds. Well, that would have to be a pretty big match box, but you get my point. And no, she wasn’t …
Vampire Stag Weekend
Vampire Stag Weekend If you are new to my stories then they are somewhat of an acquired taste. I suggest read “Betty” or “October River Walk” before you start this one since it is a little bit longer and requires a little more investment. This one is hard, strictly adult only and quite frankly pretty horrific;- enjoy. 1 I know it is supposed to be a joy-filled, happy, celebratory occasion but all I can remember is my stomach turning when Mark asked me to be his best man. Even though I love the guy dearly; we have known each other since kindergarten and his perfectly matched fiancée, Cath, since middle school, I simply detest public speaking, detailed planning and most of all bachelor parties. I was obvious something was up last May when he invited a few of the old gang for a beer in the Port Street, a pretty upmarket pub in the middle of town. He sat us down with a round of pints and a couple of chasers to take the edge off. Then he dropped it. “Lads, I've got some good news. Me and Cath's gonna get hitched”. “What's the good news then?' leant in Dom to a round of chuckles. “The good news, my little furry friend, is that we are going drinking, and that Chris is going to organise it”, finished Mark, looking up at me. “If you're up to it Chris then the job's yours”. I grinned, shook his hand and we all knocked back the drinks, all the while my heart doing loops at the thought of performing in front of Cath's forever moaning mum and Mark's humourless, steel spectacled …
Accidental Daddy – Chapter 1
Author’s note: Fiction – Noun – 1. The class of literature the class of literature comprising works of imaginative narration, especially in prose form. 2. works of this class, as novels or short stories: detective fiction. 3. something feigned, invented, or imagined; a made-up story: We've all heard the fiction of her being in delicate health. 4. the act of feigning, inventing, or imagining. 5. an imaginary thing or event, postulated for the purposes of argument or explanation. 6. Law. an allegation that a fact exists that is known not to exist, made by authority of law to bring a case within the operation of a rule of law. All of my works are works of fiction. Meaning they are made up. The characters, though sometimes loosely based on a real person, are fictional. Why did I find the need to change my introductory note? Because people seem to not know what fiction is. Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. It in no way reflects actual events that I have seen or been in anyway a part of. The people within, though may have been based on actual persons, are in no way real. The story is made up, it’s fake, and any confusion with real life events means you should go get your head examined. Warning: This chapter may include topics that people are uneasy with such as but not limited to: Beastiality, Incest, Rape, Forced Sex, Sex with a virgin, Sex with a person in a status where they do not have normal cognitive abilities, or sex with objects. If you do not like to …
Submissive Jennifer
Chapter one I love erotic stories. Context is a real turn on for me: the build up before the sex scene. Above all, I fancy situation where women are dominated. There is a thin line between domination and rape, and even though I like the first kind, I despite the latter. Even if the female character is reluctant, in the end she must like what her man tell her to do and do to her. The first time I read kinkyslut – I know, there is a lack of imagination in this pseudonym – I was hooked; maybe because of the few personal lines at the beginning, even if it was probably false. She described herself as a strong and independent woman: always the dominant one in her relationships. She might be ashamed of it but the truth was her dream of being totally dominated. And her stories were always about her fantasy. Her stories were the only one I read with the woman point of view. The style was impeccable, without contest better than mine. After a while, I believed I had learnt what submissive woman wanted, and I wanted to try this kind of symbiotic relationship in my life. But I could not. I was on my last year of study and I could not afford a personal scandal, jeopardizing my entire career. I had a lot on my mind with my exams and my search for an internship. Most of all, I was afraid to freak out the girl. I did what I had to do: I force myself to move on and forget this fantasy. I dated a little, without any thrill on my part, and by the end of the year I was resigned to satisfy …
The Kid Killer Tapes # 1 Shelly
WARNING– this is a story of underage sex, it involves a prepubescent girl who is 10 years old. It contains graphic depictions of a child being fucked. If this story is likely to offend you, it is best if you refrain from reading it. If you are reading for the purpose of being insulted by the material do not read it – that is a terrible reason to read a story. If you are curious but afraid, you will be offended, then, I would suggest you not read it. If you are reading it to post what a terrible person I am for writing this trash – well then maybe it is good therapy for you, read on, McDuff, read on. I am very aware this is offensive – this is why it is posted in extreme – because – it is extreme. This is the first story in a series of stories. Consider yourself warned and ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK. The Kid Killer Tapes # 1 Shelly By Millie Dynamite She watched him carefully as he pulled up on the chains, testing them. The table did not even move, he looked down under the table it was bolted to the floor. Returning to a normal sitting position he looked over at her. She could feel how cold his stare was. Even so, it burned into her. There was so much hate so much anger. “Well, I have to be here what do you want?” The orange jumpsuit did little to conceal how big a man he was. Well over six feet his bulging muscles strained against the bright cloth. Invariably he ground his teeth and clenched his jaw. The big mans muscles flexed as he continually shifted how he was sitting in …
Art class Feeling
My name's Luke. If you've read my other stories you'll know who I am. This is another true story that happened to me, this time with a different people. Katherine was a girl that I had been class mates with the start of high school. We had always been pretty close and I had always thought she was attractive but nothing really happened until my 3rd year at high school. It all started with a harmless conversation over snapchat. If you don't know what that is, it's an app for mobile phones that allows you to send pictures that disappear after a certain amount of time. Katherine and I had been chatting for a while when she had obviously become bored. She sends me a snapchat saying her shirt changes colour when wet, this snapchat is followed by another of her in a shirt that is exactly the same style but grey instead of yellow. Me being the horny teenage boy that I am, said it'd be cooler if it disappeared when water touched it. Her reply was her in her bra captioned "like this ;)". This to me was like the starting gun of a race, I knew what I wanted now and noting was going to stop me. "does the bra do the same?", I asked over my next snap. "Depends, will you screenshot?" "No, of course not." Of course I was lying. After a moment of waiting, there it was. A notification popped up on the top of my phone screen saying I had received a snapchat from her. My heart was pounding and my dick throbbing. I opened up snapchat and saw the little icon you press to open a snap. Certain apps, …