Erotica Archives — Page 1725 of 1751 — NSFW story

The Safe Word (Light BDSM)

I love reading the stories posted here, so I thought I'd contribute. Let me know what you think!

The Safe Word (Light BDSM)

Raina had driven from her dorm to this unfamiliar part of town because she wanted to try something new, and as she stepped out of her car, she reminded herself again that even though the whole weekend was blocked out for this “adventure,” it was all her idea and she could back out at any time.

“Just say the ‘safe word’ and everything ends,” she repeated to herself.

For as long as she had even known about sex, the shy, pretty coed had had shameful sexual fantasies. Alone in her room late at night, she dreamed of a faceless man taking total control of her, bringing out her hidden desires, tying her up, “forcing” her to do all the nasty, naughty things she knew she would love… but she was a nice girl, with nice friends and a nice family, so she was embarrassed to tell anyone about her secret desires. No one on earth knew how badly she needed to get fucked hard and dirty, how her pussy dripped when she even thought of a strong man taking control of her… But she decided on her 22nd birthday that the time had come to see what would happen if she actually lived out her secret desires. She was brave a few minutes ago, safe in her car, but now, as she closed the door behind her and made her way down the dark street, she was wondering if this had been such a good idea. Read more »

Wake Up [fm, bondage, facesitting]

Somewhere in between dreams I heard the shower start.

Opening my eyes some time later I found myself bathed in gray light coming through white linen curtains. Then I watched the naked legs of a woman in a towel walking back and forth in front of me as I laid on my side trying to decide whether I was awake or not. Occasionally those legs were followed by a nervous black cat who batted at the towel.

There were the distant smells of soap, shampoo, perfume, and all those sweet feminine scents I associated with her.

For a few moments sleep took me again, like an undertow dragging me into the waves.

Seconds or minutes or hours later I awoke with a start and sensed her near. She was far less nervous than the cat.

There was something remarkable about the transformation that took place when she took off her clothes. In the street she put so much thought into her style; her glasses, her stompy boots, her fishnets, and her leather. Buttons on her messenger bag proclaimed various affiliations; political, musical, sexual, and comic. From sarcastic t-shirts to exposed garter belts every detail told a story. Read more »

Want [mf]

We were going out for drinks. That was all. Just to see if we were both alright. This was after our break up and after the crying.

We eyed the subway signs as they passed the window. All the numbers going up. Our hands found each others, but she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Somehow we didn’t stand when the stop that would take us to drinks came. Somehow we were back at my apartment again.

The kissing was furious, contagious, biting, hungry. My hands on her, noticing the changes, how she was thinner, how she was a little more aggressive now, like she was showing off. Trying to prove she wasn’t that little girl anymore.

I needed a lot of things all at once and sitting next to her on the couch I wasn’t getting any of them fast enough. I pushed her down, pulled at the buttons of her jeans and slapped her hands away, though I wasn’t sure if she was trying to stop me or help me. I pulled her denim, along with her panties, down to her knees and held her down as my mouth found her cunt. Read more »

Tribute of Flesh, Part 2 [mf][interracial, submission]

We left Paris at the Platte in separate cars. I followed Kylie to the two bedroom apartment she shared with her classmate on the other side of downtown. I must have gained the roommate’s approval, judging by expressions of shock and inaudible words of praise she covertly mouthed behind my back while I pretended not to look. It surprises me that women actually think we don’t see that. The swank little apartment was obviously too expensive for college students working on music degrees, implying that the girls were still getting help from their parents. The framed art deco pictures above the flat screen TV seemed at odds with the Hello Kitty poster hanging from Kylie’s bedroom door. Just enough innocence to convince mommy and daddy she was still their little girl; not so bold as to warrant rich girl shaming from fellow students. Read more »

Fantasy Is More than Black and White (M/F – preview)

Here's the first part of my new story! I'd love to know what you think.

Fantasy is More than Black and White A Wedding Fantasia

Most straight guys would have considered dating a hot bisexual girl a fantasy — even if it only lasted a week and she never did get around to inviting one of her girlfriends in for the porn-requisite threesome.

Unlike most straight guys, it hadn’t ever occurred to Trey to fantasize about any of that. Besides, it had been years ago.

But when that hot bisexual ended up marrying Trey’s sister Dianne… Well, that wasn’t the stuff of fantasy at all.

Trey didn’t mind that his sister was marrying a woman. He was happy to serve as her best man. Ecstatic.

No.

What was throwing Trey for a loop through the whole ceremony wasn’t that Dianne, who’d come out to him when she was twelve, was marrying another woman. It was that she was marrying Lara. Lara Jefferson. Who had slept with everything that moved during college, and after. Including — for one very, very weird week — Trey. Read more »

[m/f] Classroom

She was the kind of girl I would never fall for. Ever. Infact, she was quite the opposite of "my sort of girl"; Too thin for my liking but with an admirable hour-glass figure, a perfect ass which would get highlighted well enough for a second look whenever she wore denims and her boobs which though were admirably big and full for her body frame seemed to sag more often than not- probably more to do with her choice of bra then anything else. Her skin tone was dusky brown which I actually liked. Her face presented a good case of, at the risk of sounding very shallow, "cover the face, fuck the base". And her hair did not help her either; too thin and of a shade of brown which made them always look dirty. All this along with the fact that she lacked the basic manners and was generally foolish made her a huge no for me. Yet, there was something about her which made me want her. Read more »

Dave. [true story, m/f]

When I first met Dave, I was about 21 and he was probably going on 43, though you still couldn't tell. He carries himself with youthful vigour. He asked me my name, and immediately knew who my dad was. "Tonto", they called him. It seems that everyone I have met that knew my dad knew that name, and felt it necessary to tell me a few wild stories. I have grown impartial to the stories. I think Dave could tell, because he only bothered to tell me one. I was working with my common-law husband, drywalling, and at the time Dave was running his dad's company cleaning out basements and shit for insurance jobs (after floods and that kind of thing). Every morning, the c-l and I would drop our daughter off at daycare, drive to Dave's, and have a cup of coffee. He drank his coffee like tar, I swear you could nearly stand a spoon up in it. Maybe that's where he got all the hair from, fuck he was a man beast, and it made me crazy. He likely noticed my eyeing him up over coffee, sitting next to c-l. I would fiddle with my spoon, bite on it, make "eyes" and grin at him while he told his stories, and often let my eyes wander over him. Read more »

Tribute of Flesh, Part 1 [mf][interracial]

We chose Paris on the Platte as our meeting place. The modern bohemian cafe on the Upper West Side of downtown Denver was filled with patrons. At 11 am on Sunday morning, the coffee shop served as a point of fusion for hummus-eating hipsters and artistic emo goths. I entered through the front door to find myself awash in vivid hues emanating from canvas along the walls. Expressionist paintings and copper metalwork – pieces for sale by local art students – accented an otherwise drab brick-n-mortar interior. I was an outsider in what could be called yet another mecca for the younger members of Denver’s counter culture.

Of course, I wasn't here to make friends. After a weekend death spiral of night clubs and online chats, I had found someone to sate my desire for a warm body. She had posted on Craig’s List for companionship: SWF, student, 21, looking for “friends, and maybe more…”. The open call wreaked of the naivety and desperation of a little girl with few friends, far from the large, bustling family she left behind for college not too long ago. Read more »

Dad and daughter – 1st attempt at writing.

Me met Sally when Sally's daughter was 11. Delilah never had a father figure so she took to me almost instantly. Sally raised Delilah in a very loving and affectionate household; hugs and kisses before bed, snuggling, and I love yous. Soon Sally and I got married and Delilah started calling Me dad. I didn't know if she more excited about having a me move in or that she could tell her friends about her mom AND dad.

As Delilah grew into young lady, I started noticing that the goodnight kisses moved from from my cheek to my lips. I didn't think much of it as I had raised her for the last 3 years. I caught her spying on me from the closet while I showered; I covered myself immediately and confronted her. She claimed that she was looking for some clothes that must have got mixed in with moms when they did laundry. That's when I started paying more attention to Delilah's observations of me. Read more »