Category: eroticliterature

Cold Feet

​

I cross my legs,

Nervous,

Excited,

Tired of being complacent,

So proud of myself,

Having stood up to loneliness,

Shame,

There’s no shame in desire,

But is it a mistake?

Probably.

​

It’s mostly fear,

Fear of stagnation,

Fear of growing old,

Dying,

Having lived a life I couldn’t enjoy,

A life I tell myself I never wanted,

Just because I couldn’t bear it,

Knowing that I never knew how to live,

Though that didn’t stop me from trying,

Was it a mistake?

Probably.

​

I’m out of place,

All of this is too extravagant for me,

These panties are uncomfortable,

This bra doesn’t suit me,

My lover has cold eyes,

And a stranger’s touch,

I’m terrified of him,

And so infatuated,

Addicted to his nature,

It’s so unlike mine,

I just want him to want me,

Even though there’ll never be an us,

Is he a mistake?

Probably.

​

It’s funny,

How something so enjoyable,

Could be so disappointing, Read more »

A very vanilla female perspective especially for you…

I’m imagining you here with me. Your hungry eyes. Your big strong hands all over my skin. Your soft mouth caressing the skin of my breasts. Your wet lips and tongue travelling down my stomach until you reach my inner thighs. Lingering there as you tease me, knowing how much it’s killing me. You can feel the heat coming from between my legs and see the wetness increase with every kiss and lick of my thigh. You can see my soft pink pussy, lips full and clit throbbing, the same shade of soft rose as my nipples and just as erect. So close I can feel your hot breath on my clit.

I can’t take it anymore. I grab your hair and guide your face into my pussy. You know what I want. Eager to please you begin to gently lick my lips and clit with feather like softness. Up and down lapping up the juices pouring from me. Making little circles around my clit with your tongue, occasionally putting a little more pressure, making me moan softly. I moan louder as you ease a finger inside me, continuing to kiss and lick a little faster now. “Just like that” I tell you. Read more »

Well-Trained Cum-slut (pt 2) [FM] (Submissive, Cowgirl)

I massage my master’s balls while sucking hard on his cock. He just came so far down my throat! Now I’m trying to get the last of it out as he groans. I love it when I make Daddy moan, it makes me so happy to know I’m making him feel good. My pussy is dripping wet after having my throat be used. I love his voice, so effortlessly powerful and commanding, it makes me want to fulfill his every desire. “You’ve been so good baby-girl!” he says, “Come here.” He instructs and tugs on my leash.

I stop sucking on his cock and wiggle up the bed for him. I’m sitting on-top of him and when within reach he pulls my chest down to his and kisses my neck. My boobs are pressed against him as he sucks and licks at my neck. I can’t help but moan. He stops and says, “You’re dripping onto me.” I look down at the small puddle of my pussy juices collected on his stomach. I go to speak but he pulls me closer to his chest, squeezing me with his strength, his other hand glides down to my ass while I moan. He smirks and whispers in my ear, “I better stop the leak with something.” My body goes weak, knowing what’s coming, and all I can do is nod against him and sigh into his shoulder. Read more »

Naughty Shay

Shay was far from a naughty girl. Quite the opposite. She was studious, smart, and hard working. She possessed a raw sensuality that made every man hard, but her naiviety made her oblivious to it.

Being a good girl was often boring. To break the monotony, Shay occassionally wrote anonymous erotic literature on the weekends. Her compositions were well-liked by fellow readers.

One particular fan, Stan, had been very responsive. He’d gone so far as to send her a private message. He seemed sane, articulate,,,,Shay responded.

Shay and Stan immediately hit it off. They discussed many topics. Shay knew that Stan was separated, and lived in another state.

Shay also recognized he was the type of man to whom she could actually talk to all night, in between (lots) of fucking.

That was a rare find. Shay wanted Stan.

Summer had approached. Shay knew, from Stan’s conversations, that his temporary living situation wasn’t ideal.

Shay decided to take a risk by drafting a message to Stan. She quickly hit send before she could change her mind : Read more »

Fran Pt.3 [MF]

I’d be a fool to argue, so the moment of truth was upon us. Both naked, wrapped around each other like snakes ready to strike. I decided to strike first and pinned her arms back and told her she was mine till I said otherwise. First a look of confusion, then understanding and finally lust with a nod. I pulled back the covers briefly to see what I was taking. Lying, arms back, legs slightly parted was a 5’9” woman, slightly thin with a muscular dancers body. Small but (for me) absolutely perfect breasts, with dark pencil eraser nipples that were currently hard as granite. Flat smooth belly going to a totally smooth, hairless crotch. (she later told me that she’d had laser hair removal, she liked being totally hairless, it made her feel “clean and really sexy”) Fran was simply breath taking, the ideal of what I desire in a woman’s body. And she was getting cold, and I was hungry. Read more »

A Ca[m]pground A[f]fair

*We are in section L152, so practically neighbors!*

I hastily text her before stashing my phone. The surprise encounter still fresh in my mind. Still marveling at how small the world can be some times. One minute you are finishing setting up camp with your wife, and the next you are running into an old college fling. Almost groaning out at the memory of how she teased me with memories of our college adventures, or just how good her ass looked as she walked back to her friends and camp site.

Leaving me to compose myself before returning to mine… “Did you grab the buns and snacks from the pantry?” My wife’s voice calls out from the back of the car. Did I? Fuck. No I didn’t. It was still sitting on the shelf where I put it after we got back from the grocery store.

“No, that is safe and sound at home. Did we forget anything else?” I call out as I walk towards the car. Glancing over our bags and equipment spread from the car to our tent. Read more »

While You’re Standing in the Corner [MF][BDSM]

What I do while you’re standing in the corner, naked, motionless, gagged with a ball gag, waiting for me to use the cane on you in punishment for earlier recalcitrant behaviour:

Check my emails, while sitting in my desk chair, about four paces away from where you stand. I delete several. Read three in full and write short responses. Label or archive everything else until my inbox is empty.

Drink an entire cup of tea. It is the one I made just before you arrived, and thus is already slightly cold. By the time I have finished responding to emails it has achieved a perfect, barely-warm-at-all temperature.

Read the last few pages of Haruki Murakami’s *Pinball, 1973*. A second reading, but so long after the first it is like reading the novel for the first time. Once complete I close the book and put it flat on my desk. I sit and think about the ending as I finish the dregs of my tea.

Browse Amazon until I find a set of postage labels that are compatible with my printer. Purchase two sets. During the checkout process I sign up for a discounted trial of Amazon Prime to save on postage, which I then immediately cancel. Read more »

Taking A Chance [MF] [Oral]

“Never trust men. They have too many reasons to use you.”

Sharon Kena had heard that mantra from her mother all her life. It was one of the first lessons she’d taught her as a kid and she belabored it every chance she got. It didn’t matter who she met or what she did. The message was always the same.

“Avoid men at every turn. If you can’t, make sure you use them before they use you.”

She said it so often that Sharon hadn’t given it much thought in recent years. She made it through high school without dating any men and none of her current friends were men. Sharon still dealt with them, but even the slightest interaction with a man was enough to draw scrutiny from her mother. At one point, she made a scene at an airport when the flight attendant made her sit next to a middle-aged man on a trip to visit her grandmother.

As mortifying as moments like that were, Sharon understood her mother’s sentiments to some extent. She knew, as well as everyone else in her family, that she had a bad history with men. Her father ditched her when she was a baby, her uncle abused her, and every man she’d ever dated found some way to hurt her. Read more »