collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
[https://www.patreon.com/user?u=17540673](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=17540673)
I have a Patreon and a Twitter @Sephikurene, and a Discord Server where I keep track of my projects. My specialty is gay smut of course being a gay male. However when I’m commissioned I try to deliver quality of whatever is asked of me. I do tend to charge some extra for girly parts though as it is a little harder for me to write. However I am definitely very very interested in taking commissions.
We’d start by cuddling, you’d be my little spoon. I’d start by rubbing your stomach and your back and move down to rubbing your butt and your cock. I wouldn’t touch either for very long, just enough to explore and move on. I’d rub my big hard cock against your back and whisper, “I’m ready for you princess.”
I’d roll you over so you’re on your back, laying facing up at the ceiling. I’d give you a quick kiss on your lips and move down to kissing your neck. I’d leave kiss marks all over your neck and move down your chest to your nipples where I’d kiss them so much and get them hard. And then I’d move down your chest, leaving a trail of kisses until I got to your “Daddy’s” written right above your cock. I’d kiss there for a long time, covering you in kisses. I feel your cock get really hard as I spend so much time almost touching it. I kiss your head just quickly before I pick you up and lay you across my lap, our cocks touching each other. I would give you three swats, one for being on your phone before 7am, one for your potty mouth, and one for begging daddy to let you touch your cock. The swats aren’t very painful, just a reminder that you broke daddy’s rules.
This belt’s special. I got it years ago, with a holster for my SIG P220 .45 ACP pistol. It’s wide and thick and stiff cowhide. The inside isn’t finished, so it’s rough. Not scratchy, but it has a texture to it. Because it’s one solid piece, it has this warp to it because of the material bending over time while it’s wrapped around my waist. This belt is *mine*. I wear it to work every day, and I want to think of you ever time I put it on.
So, picture this… We’re in a hotel room, and I blindfold you. I put a hardbacked chair up against the desk, in front of a mirror. I tell you to put both hands on it, spread your legs, and position you so you’re slightly bent over you, and totally vulnerable. So, I can see every inch of you, but you can’t see a thing.
**I had met Cindy about four weeks ago and we had a few dates so far, going to a movie one night, dinner another, Netflix and pizza at home a couple of times. I found myself really liking her and enjoying her company. Intelligent and funny, she was about 5’6″ with a slim, petite figure. Her breasts were small, but I’ve always liked that and found them a huge turn on. Her hair is best described as raven black which I found particularly attractive, it matched her eyes perfectly.**
**We were on our fifth or sixth date, having a few drinks at the bar in the local pub, talking about this and that when Cindy suddenly changed the subject to sex, and asked me in a very dramatic fashion,**
**”So, John, have you ever had sex with a man?”, she asked bluntly.**
**I was so surprised by the question I just stammered out that I had not.**
**”Have you ever thought about it? Are you interested?”, she continued.**
I’ve sucked cock and have had mine sucked by other men since I was a teenager but my wife Susan didn’t know. I’ve wanted to tell her over the years but could never find a way to bring it up. It occurred to me that whenever we watched a porn flick she always made the same remark, “They always show girl-on-girl, but never show guys fucking other guys.”
Fast forward to a month later, we went to our local porn theater wearing our usual “easy access clothing” and, settling into a row in the middle of the theater, started to play with each other. I could usually finger Susan to two or three orgasms while she would pull and stroke my cock. Usually I waited until we got home before I would cum, I liked fucking her without getting an armrest jabbed into my back and ass.
As the title suggests, I am looking for an author for hire. I have a set of four characters in mind for a story, I even have a setting. But I also have no discernible skill at word craft, and I am sorely lacking in time to write. So I thought I’d offer up my characters and see if any author wants to make a profit off of making a story with my idea. I am very open to negotiation of price, and I believe in paying writers fairly for their work. Now, let’s meet the characters!
– Ryan: A shy young man, and a first-year college student. Ryan is nice but introverted. He’d rather spend time arranging his Sailor Moon collectibles than going to frat parties. He’s not a big fan of being touched, and has never even kissed a girl. Not that he doesn’t want to, but his timidity has left him rather under the radar for most women. Save for the 3 ladies we’re about to meet…
If this isn’t allowed I’m sorry please delete. I’m trying to find a story i read awhile ago about a woman for had an online master who controlled a game she did. She would right things on index cards and go out and give the cards to strangers and let them do what was on the cards. The last half of the series was her giving a coworker she did t like blowjob cards were she owed him blowjobs. I think it was on literotica. I’ve tried searching tags and for it but can’t remember who wrote it and can’t find it. Just thought maybe I’d try here to see if someone knows it. Thanks!
She stands in front of the sink with her back against my chest. She laughs when I first tell her to get her toothbrush. I laugh too, although I try to keep a lid on it. We are grinning at one another in the water-speckled mirror. The toothbrushes stand like breadsticks in a Hello Kitty mug on the shelf at its base. She reaches out and takes hers – white and mint green plastic, the bristles a little frayed and flared. Hands it to me over her shoulder.
“Toothpaste?” I say.
She fetches it. An almost-empty tube, compressed into a tight roll at one end. We are making eye contact in the mirror, she and I. She is, quite reasonably, trying not to grin. When I told her I was going to brush her teeth for her she burst out laughing. “You’re not serious?” she said, which of course lead to my insistence that I *was* serious, which of course lead to here.
I turn the tap on to a trickle, reaching around her body to do so. She is in pyjamas, I in my underwear. We were getting ready for bed a few minutes ago. I squeeze a pea-sized quantity of paste onto the brush, wet it, and raise it to her mouth. I don’t need to tell her to open wide.
He pulled at the white button up that clung to him with sweat as he put another magazine on the shelf. Squinting through the bright light he could see the brightness of summer was already in full bloom outside. He placed the last magazine on the shelf stood from the hunched position he was in and stretched his arms and back. Reaching back he grabbed the cart and pushed it down the the aisle.
When he rounded the aisle he found a old lady looking at one of the shelves.
“Mrs. Nakajima, what are you doing back here?”
“Ah Devin, I was looking for you when I got distracted by the way this shelf was organized.”
“Would you like me to reorganize the shelf?”
“Not today, it’s too hot in the store with the A/C being out. I want you to finish the restocking and take off. The A/C should be fixed tomorrow so when you come back from your weekend it should be much easier to work.”
“Are you sure? It’s not too bad.”
“Kid you are sweating through your shirt, go enjoy the sunshine somewhere that doesn’t feel like a sauna.”
*I haven’t chosen to tell this story to get a reaction. Although a big part of me is desperately curious to know what you think. And what you feel. I’m writing this because it’s cathartic, it helps me. It helps me to think about the things I’ve done. To figure out how I feel about these things. Whether I’m ashamed or not. If people are interested, I’ll tell the rest of my story, although it might need a few chapters.*
Home again from a night out with friends, off in gloomy rainy lovely Manchester. The cold walk back from the train station had left my exposed flesh goose-pimpled and a fair proportion of my flesh was exposed. My dress wasn’t as tight-fitting as some of my friends’, but it only just covered what it needed to. If I’d have bent over at any point in the evening a lot of people would have seen midnight-blue knickers and my firm little bum. I wrestled with the key and let myself into my parents’ semi-detached house in what must be Northern England’s tamest suburbia.