Erotica Archives — Page 1402 of 1751 — NSFW story

My biggest fantasy is to be raped. I’m ashamed to say that because it’s not something a woman should admit.

My reluctance to say it out loud stems from a conversation I had once with a friend’s boyfriend in a pub. We were chatting about fantasises (you know the type, sex in public, Britney Spears in *that* school uniform) when he suddenly announced that it was every woman’s fantasy to be raped.

I thought it was the most misogynistic thing I’d ever heard because at that time, I saw rape as a woman being forced at knifepoint to have sex with a stranger in a dark alleyway somewhere. So why would any woman in her right mind want to endure that humiliation? No woman *wants* to be hurt and degraded like that.

But his words stayed with me and I was determined to prove him wrong in every relationship I had after that.

Every man I have been with knows that I’m no victim. I’m in control of all aspects of my life and I certainly don’t let anyone dictate to me what I should do: everything is done *my* way, especially sex. Read more »

$20 Blowjob

Mike picked up a cute blonde crackhead named Nora, walking down a suburban street, her skinny legs sticking out of cut off shorts, her thumb held out casually to hitchhike.

He knew she was a whore, and didn’t take long to get to the point. “How much for a cum in the mouth blowjob?” he asked, after she got into my car. “Twenty bucks?” she said. He handed her a crumpled twenty.

She pointed. “Pull over and turn into the park there. Mike quickly drove the car into the local dog walk, which at this hour was nothing but a deserted parking lot. “Seriously, you are going to do this for me here?” he asked.

Nora nodded, her tongue darting out. “Yes, I’m going to suck your cock too. I live for dick in my mouth.”

Mike looked down at the big console between them. Fucking Japanese engineers! “Back seat?” he asked. Nora laughed and nodded, and both quickly got out and then back in the car, in the back seat. Read more »

Hot Hotel Hookup (Homo)

Mm
I wish I could say I got fucked and left sweat and cum stains on the crisp sheets at this nice hotel as evidence my ass got rammed good, but I can’t. I’m actually working here and craving cock. It’s been a quiet night. An occasional tweaker will come downstairs for a cigarette. With one in particular, this white trash dude about 6’5, I keep dropping subtle hints that I want to taste his dick, and feel his nut explode in my asshole. Perhaps I was too subtle when I said with a wink, “Let me know if you need anything, *anything* at all,” stressing the second “anything” and adding “to help you sleep.” The subtext, of course, is that, after a vigorous fuck i’m offering, it will leave him and his balls drained; he’ll sleep like king. The most overt signal, though, would have to be my boner. In between doing my job and writing this post, I play with myself through the huge hole I have in my right pocket. When he comes down, I make no effort to hide it. He hasn’t noticed it. Read more »

What Happens in Vegas, Stays In…Mom, No!

My mother had just suffered through a very testy divorce. Apparently, after twenty-five years of blissful wedlock, daddy decided he didn’t want his wife to be married to a womanizing asshole any longer. He’s considerate like that.

Since then, dear mater had embarked on an intense regimen of Xanax, booze and late night calls (almost exclusively to me). Hey, I really love my mom but a girl needs her beauty sleep.

After a few months of this relentless whining, wining and wallowing, I suggested that we should both forget about our dull, dreary lives and go spend a week in Vegas disgracing the very name of womanhood. It seemed like the perfect solution. I’d just turned 21 and was in real need of a break from studying and my mother would have loads of people to talk to when she was drunk at 4 o’clock in the morning. Read more »

Photoshoot

“Wow,” I said, “I’ve taken a lot of family photos, and I have to say you four have been the easiest yet. Your kids are so well-behaved and photogenic. No offense Mark, but before we’re done, can I get one of just the girls?”

“Sure”

Mark walks over by his parents, as I position the girls

“Megan, just cradle Mary and try to get her to face the camera. Emily, stand right in front of mommy.” I instruct.

Megan lifts Mary, with Emily backing up tight against her legs.

“Mmmmm”, I say under my breath. Then louder “Such a perfect and attractive family. I’m really the lucky one.”

20 pictures click off in rapid succession. All catching different degrees of smile and eye contact.

I turn around and look at the sky. The sun is starting to set and I check my watch.

“Well, I’ve kept you 10 minutes longer than the session, I apologize for that. But how did you like it? I know you said it was your first professional photo shoot”

“It was great” Emily says excitedly, while Mark just smiles. I could tell it’s not his thing, as is the case with most men. Read more »

The elevator

The story begins [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/du3p0j/in_the_hotel_lobby_romantic/)…

Our stroll to the elevator is like walking on electricity. I am inside a vivid dream. The chime of the door opening alerts me. It is empty as we enter. Walking in we each meet eyes, stealing side glances. It is another moment I will never forget.

We turn around and face the lobby like another tired, bored couple. But as soon as the doors close the devouring begins. I grab her and finally get to kiss her neck. I want to inhale her. She pulls me closer with her fingers in my hair. I hold the small of her back as I pull her to me. As she moves her head to give her neck to me and presses her hips against me I can feel the muscles in her back moving. I find myself thrilled that I can feel her responding with that kind of movement.

“You are so beautiful,“ she whispers.

“I want to make you happy,“ I respond.

“I’m already…” Read more »

My old job: Carolyn (True Story)

I miss my old job. I worked as a medical massage therapist at a high-end practice in downtown NYC. The clientele was a mix of wealthy middle aged folk and some athletic youngsters, even a few celebs.

I loved that job because, unlike other offices, here I actually had the time and freedom to treat my patients the way I deemed necessary.
But my professional passions aside…I also miss the old job for all the other perks it offered.

One of those perks were the steamy weekly sessions with a pretty young blonde named Carolyn.

The first time we both saw each other there was a tangible spark. Her long blond wavy hair gently bounced as she walked towards me from the physical therapy treatment room. Watching her confident gait I couldn’t stop thinking of how sexy her 5”4 body must be under those skin tight yoga pants and sports bra.
She looked like a woman who takes good care of herself. Toned and athletic, with the right curves to compel any man to salivate at the mere sight of her. Her beautiful white skin looked as if it would taste as delicious and sweet as condensed milk. Read more »

More Than One Way Out of a Speeding Ticket.

[This is a repost from a little while ago. Id like some feedback, either here or over direct chats, or PMs. Maybe we can collaborate on another one? I’ve got a slow day today, so chatting is good.]

It’s three AM, and I’m sitting in my black and white Sherriff’s pickup, on the side of a darkened, isolated stretch of the I-95. My coffee has long gone cold, but the cool, humid night air keeps me awake well enough. The night is silent aside from the crickets all around, and the occasional squeaking of bats flying overhead. I rest my forearm on the open window of my door, looking out the windshield, waiting patiently for the next leadfoot to go screaming past, going well over eighty in this sixty mile an hour zone.

I don’t have to wait long. A white Mercedes just about blasts my doors off as it screams past. In a well practiced routine of motions, I start the truck, throw on the headlights, lights and siren, and floor it, gritting my teeth as the truck takes off like a rocket. The engine roars excitedly as we blast up to eighty miles an hour, then ninety, then a hundred, catching up to the Mercedes effortlessly. The chase is over disappointingly quickly as the Mercedes brake lights come on, and I escort the car over to the shoulder. Oh well, I guess the fun part of the night is over. Read more »