collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
It’s about a man being transported to a video game world that the only significant method of leveling is having sex. As a player, he gains the job named ‘Saint’ which also can be translated to ‘Sexist.’
And I wonder your reaction to them. I’ve just finished translating chapter 45 out of 1400+
[Link to All Chapters.](https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=1-KpEJUnADs1FGyfgSWOWpEHsE6MRFrso)
“Harry, you are pathetic in bed. Do you know that? After five years of marriage and you still cannot find my clit; I could put flashing lights near it and you would still miss it. Thank god for my trusty vibrator and Vince because otherwise, I would be a horny mess. Why in the world did I ever marry you?” she berated me who was sitting quietly on the couch while my wife, paced around the room.
I sat there, not saying a word. I had no idea when we were dating that she was this way but right after the honeymoon it seemed like she did a complete transformation. If my male friends knew how henpecked I was I would never live it down. *Why do I stay around, taking her abuse, and listening to her tales of the men she has fucked, even on our honeymoon of all things? And today, she made me wear a cock cage. I need to leave here, get my manhood back…*
My thoughts were interrupted by a slight smack on my head and Sherry screaming, “Listen to me when I am talking to you, Harry. What in the world am I going to do?”
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Deans poem challenge conventional notions of decorum by using and abusing such tropes and figures as metaphor, hyperbole, paradox, anaphora, hyperbaton, hypotaxis and parataxis, paronomasia, and oxymoron. Deans poems produce copia and variety and cultivates concordia discors and antithesis – Dean uses these strategies to produce allegory and conceit As said Deans poems are like
**The Pharmacist: Chapter 7**
As soon as the waitress left the table, Vincent turned back towards her. “As soon as we get those boxes and pay, we’re outta here. I’m taking you home.”
*Just as I wanted*. Without looking up, Lilac fiddled with the bottom hem of her dress, “On one condition.”
Vincent laughed a little, shifting in his seat, which Lilac could only assume he was zipping his fly back up and fixing his belt under the table, “After that little stunt you pulled back there? What more could you want than spankings?”
The waitress came back with the boxes and began scooping the foods into the boxes for them.
Lilac stopped her, “It’s alright, we can do that, thank you!”
“You guys have a good night! Just take the table number card with you, and they can ring you up at the front!”
The waitress left them, hurriedly walking off to the table down the aisle where an impatient man was waving his hand.
Lilac stood up, and proceeded to scooping the seafood into the boxes, and Vincent did the same on his side of the table.
[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hnu2sl/10_year_anniversary_mfmasterbationtease/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
They say the loss of one of your senses tends to heighten the ones remaining. As my view of the world was pitch black now with the sleeping mask over my eyes, I focused on them trying to find out what Sara was up to. I could barely hear the soft even breaths get closer to me and the carpet about my feet being disturbed. I could almost see her in my mind’s eye lowering herself to her knees in front of me. I swear I could feel the temperature of my legs rise as she moved her body between them as her hands pressed on my inner thighs firmly spread them open.
Normally any little touch between my legs would get me squirming, I’m ticklish, I can’t help it, but I wanted the feel of her on me so badly that I steeled my legs not wanting her to pull away from. As the edges of Sara’s nails dug into my inner thighs, I could feel tiny shocks race up my leg to my balls, making my cock twitch ever so slightly.
Have you ever fantasized about what you would do to your mother-in-law if given the chance? The idea that it’s so ethically & morally wrong feels so right that the thought alone will make your cock throb. Let me tell you a story about the love of my life. No, it’s not my wife, nor is it my mother-in-law. Secrecy. When my wife and I first started dating 7 years ago, there was absolutely no warning of what I would be getting myself into. Renee & I met at a business seminar in Dallas. I was there to network for potential job opportunities right out of college. Emma was there as a favor to her friend who was the guest speaker. She sat a two rows in front of me. I studied the back of her head like a map. She turned around, I assumed she could feel me staring. I smirked & mouthed “Find me after.” She nodded & smiled before turning back around. After the speaker ended, everyone started exiting the conference hall. We immediately found each other. The sexual attraction was instant. Before I even said a word, my first thought was what is underneath that shirt. We introduced ourselves, explained our reasons for being there, & followed it by agreeing to have dinner that night. “8 o’clock, Room 317”, I repeated back to her, gave a smirk, & left. I didn’t have any obligations the rest of the day so I headed back to my room to get prepared for the night. I entered my room, started the shower, sat on the bed, & started analyzing the stranger I just made plans with. Beautiful flowing dirty-blonde hair. Petite, small enough to manhandle but enough there to grab on to. Big, beautiful eyes that drew me in like a car wreck. At this point, I’m using pure memory to pleasure myself to a stranger I had just met. Can’t take the chance of not lasting long if we have sex tonight, right? Showered, trimmed up, & feeling confident in my best suit, I made my way to room 317. I knock on the door, she opens in a tight dress. It’s hugging every curve. She looked at me with those eyes and I said “Do we have to go to dinner?” She bit her lip & replied, “Your desserts ready.” I grabbed her by the hips, pulled her in close, started passionately kissing her. I pinned her against the wall, started nibbling at her earlobe. She’s moaning in my ear. I took my left hand & moved it down her body, riding every curve. Took two of my fingers and started rubbing her pussy over her, wait, there’s no panties? She grabbed me by the face, looked me deep in the eyes, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. She squeezed her thighs to lock my hand in and said “Yes daddy.” I knew I was she was my kind of freak.
My first evening messaging with Mistress Penny. ([u/prettypennyp](https://www.reddit.com/u/prettypennyp/)) I let her know I was home and awaiting and commands she might give me. Mistress Penny sends her first message, “I’d like it if you played with your nipples until you’re drooling in your cage,” she said. I responded “As you wish, my mistress. Will master help me in any way? Please” Mistress Penny wants to know, “Tell me how you want my help.”
I begin following the command given, Oh, Mistress Penny I wish that you were in my room right now with the red lights on. You tell me to bend over, shaming me you say to only look at your feet, because I was not worthy to look at you yet. You pull out a leather crop tracing it along my back. As you reach my ass you give it a little quick smack. The is an escape from the tips of my lips as you do this, a little chirp of pleasure, surprisingly enjoying the slap you just gave me. It is a vocal giggle of aroused glee. At the same time I begin feeling a twitch between my legs.
I like how you rub your fingers on the insides of my cheeks. How you cradle my face in your other hand as you press my tongue down and push into my throat. The gentle, soothing voice, when you tell me to *be a good little slut and open for me*. The inadequacy is crushing when my throat starts to spasm around your fingers, my body resisting your desires. It’s not good enough, I know.
I like how you kiss my nose and forehead before licking my tears. You look at me with such concern and nod your head as if you understand. I appreciate that you won’t make it easier, that you won’t stop when I cry. You stroke harder and faster and grip my throat with your other hand. You whisper *this is what I want, you can cry if you need to*.
I like how you coo and shush, how you stroke my hair, how you say *that’s a good girl, keep your fuckhole open* as I retch and sob. I clench my fists and curl my toes. I rasp my breaths on your fingers as you croon for *more, you can take it deeper*. I drool and thrash and choke, and demand my body to accept your will over my own.
Sparking a Fever [MF FM]
By Aven Forest
1
Copyright © 2020 by Aven Forest
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information please
visit: www.marbledrose.com
FIRST EDITION
2
A Letter To The Reader Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for your purchase of my latest erotic romance short story! I hope that this story inspires you to never settle for less than what you deserve. In the name of love possibilities are limitless. May you always follow the howl of your heart…
Love always, Aven Forest
3
That thought faded though…faded against slightly less selfish thoughts of Matt…faded to the ecstasy of number eleven…and the joy of erotic possibilities.
That is what Kelly was focused on. The only useful thought in her head was that she didn’t currently have enough hands.
This was a rare session for Kelly though. Not rare that she was masturbating in the middle of her living room floor at 5:36pm; literally 2 minutes after getting home, an agonizing 2 minutes to be completely free of her business attire and every piece of attire underneath. No, she was quite comfortable touching and exploring herself. It was rare that she initially only cared about how the touching felt.
She didn’t start, as she normally did, by imagining anyone else. The only person in her head was herself. Her only focus was how nice her breast felt smashed against her arm and being teased by her left hand, which has since given up on which breast to focus on; and her finger progressively reaching just a little bit deeper inside herself with each gyration. It was all for her. Holding herself at that edge for as long as she could, until she didn’t want to hold herself there any longer and just let herself tip over the edge.