Walking the desolate hallway with trash laying around, she wondered “how did I get here?”. She isn’t lame, some would say too smart for school. Did she really peak in high school? Is life going to be a series of underwhelming conquests and small wins, forever? How can misery on her mind make her wet? Shouldn’t have worn a skirt. She could almost smell her wetness, her arousal, working in that tiny office.
Every day was just a series of marginally challenging tasks with no real outcome. But then again, can anybody really make a difference working in retail? She was just selling expensive shit to people who wouldn’t have any real need of the same. It’s all superficial. It is this lack of purpose in life which gets compensated by her body reacting to it by getting aroused. The lack of stimuli for her mind translated into the smallest stimuli of touch or smell to get her turned on. The unimpressive men around her at the office made her uncomfortable, even though she was taller than most of them. Larger in life and in spirit.
All she wished at that point was for some fresh air. Her underwear was drenched with sex and some air down there will calm her maybe. Her slow and sneaky movements on the chair, unnoticed by others, were something she had mastered all these years sitting in boring offices and classrooms. Her subtle grinding is exactly what she liked, slow and with intense pressure on her clit. Oh, how wonderful!
All she needed to turn her on was her imagination, with no visual aid of any kind. She thought of her high school boyfriend. She never did fuck him, both wanted to though. They were too much in love and she was, to be precise, an idiot about it. Although she lost her virginity later in college, it was nothing like it would have been with that boy. This in her life was now something like a cliff-hanger, an unfinished business. She can see in her mind’s eye his tall and lanky frame, broad shoulders with the slenderest waist and the best part, big veiny hands. On and on she would grind on that corner chair, clenching her thigh muscles to intensify the feeling. She couldn’t help keeping her mouth shut, the air escaped her in short gasps. Her leg had started cramping up, but she was almost at the end. Her orgasm released with the most intense but subdued rush, a little frustrating and a lot satisfying. That was indeed a good Wednesday!
Category: eroticstories
Ballerina Occidental
By Cleopatra Alexandria
*Based on a true story.
The Holo-TV produced photons which travelled through space coming to rest on a digital retina. Alexandria spread across an old couch watching. Being that she was a hyper sophisticated synthetic creation when she watched Holo it was the electronic equivalent of a dog communicating with a human. The Holo unit had a brain as well as all things did now, at least in The City, but it was a primitive processor/motherboard setup more similar to ancient computers than to Alex’s mental schematics.
Her mind was the result of over 200 years of computer science combined with relatively new innovations in nanotechnology. Being that scientists could now recreate hypercomplex structures at the atomic level, a level of complexity had been reached in electronic (positronic) minds that was similar to that of the human brain. The debate still raged as to whether the human mind could be perfectly duplicated in electronic form, but Androids like Alex were as close as the tech had come.
Olivia
By Bella Moretti Alexandria (Here’s lookin at you kid;)
Vi was bored that night. The ancient looking gentlemen’s club had existed since the days of slavery, though any racist portraiture had long since been taken down from the walls. She sat in a long room panelled with tropical hardwood and carpeted in dark green. Finely carved chairs and tables were placed about the room but no one was talking.
Vi sat in a group of infinitely uninteresting men and smiled and nodded while she did her mental accounting. In truth she owned the club and did not have to hang out with these dullards. It was also true that she was the main reason these rich and stupid men kept on coming to the club and paying their high membership fees. Whiskey and luxurious privacy were universal but a well educated and proportioned geisha like Vi was hard to find.
Black is the new Black
By Anna Foxx Alexandria
(Ded. to a special someone you know who you are)
Regina Campbell felt like she was on top of the world. She had just graduated from high school the week before and was on the way to her new job. She walked through the slums to get to the bus stop. The red dirt caking slightly on the sides of her shoes. Tin roofs flapping in the wind.
She had gotten the job at Pandora Holdings Ltd. After a stressful interview with a good looking woman in a gray hound’s-tooth suit dress. The woman had introduced herself as Ms. Jackson. The woman, although she was young, screamed refinement and Regina had been rattled as she tried to use her best English and most fluent business speech. Debits. Credits. Accounts owing, she prattled through accounting 101 and seemed to impress the seriously suited woman.
It turned out that her Grade 12 accounting classes were useless however as the job seemed to mainly consist of her organizing heavy boxes of files in the back rooms of the office or briefly filling in at the front desk. Ms. Jackson insisted that Regina dress up nicely despite her lowly tasks and gave her money to buy new work clothes. Regina was happy about this as well the offices were located within an expensive part of Kingston and she got to smile at the young men on the way to their own offices in freshly pressed suits.
“Midnight Bravery” (First)
This was intended to be two parts. One from “his” perspective, the other from “hers”. Depending on what you guys think about this part i may write the next.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“His”
Its midnight and i just had the most intense sex dream. I woke up with my dick so hard it was causing me physical pain. My fiance, Sarah, is laying next to me in nothing but a thong and t-shirt. Most nights i wouldn’t dare wake her, but tonight is different. Something inside of me is raging so intensely it feels as if my chest will burst at any moment. But i have to be careful, i have to do this right. I begin by slowly cuddling around her ass making sure my dick doesnt jar her awake. I move my hand across the small of her back and onto her hips. I start kissing her neck very gently, she’s starting to wake up. My heart is pounding, this is it, will i be turned away with my head hung in shame or will i come out victorious. I’ll find out any second.
My first: [GRP] Swingers club dark room
It was 03:00 AM in the swingers club. Carla and Matthew have been here before and liked every aspect of it. They like the jacuzzi the best, because naked people are just sitting here and enjoying the warm water and sometimes play with each other. The best part is that you cannot see what is happening under the water, but you can guess by looking at the faces. A man sits on the edge of the pool while his wife gives him a blow job. On the other side a woman sits on her husband while she is getting fucked in the water. The swingers club gives Carla and Matthew a certain feeling of freedom. They like to watch other people fuck and love being watched while they fuck as well. This was their sixth visit and in the past they have tried every room: the orgy room, private room, outside, (bd)sm room, the maximum-four-people room. But never the dark room. Matthew has no problem with it, but Carla is a bit afraid.
Not of the dark, but more of the things that happen inside.
“The Taste of Her Submission” [BDSM]
***
**THE TASTE OF HER SUBMISSION**
***
The woman glanced upward, seeing the man’s distorted face through the bottom of his glass tumbler. When seen from this strange perspective, his features appeared momentarily monstrous; his charming smile rendered suddenly sardonic, twisted and unsymmetrical.
The man drank the last of the whiskey in his glass, then lowered the tumbler toward the woman curled up in his lap. While swirling the half-melted ice-cubes in contemplative circles, he announced: “You taste good”, speaking in a guttural whisper.
The woman opened her mouth to respond, but found no words to speak. Instead, she lowered her head back down onto the man’s lap, letting her lips naturally wrap back around his swollen cock.
Her pussy was still aching from earlier. Although it was sore to the touch — *and painful so* — the feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant. *How did he even come up with something like that?*, she wondered, letting the tip of her tongue glide under his foreskin…
***
First Attempted Erotic Story – Best Friends
“So that’s it, school is done” I said as we walked back to her house. I’d known Ashley for 14 years now, we’d been best friends since we started school and we’d just finished our last day and were now leaving at 18. We’d always done everything together, we know everything about each other and we’ve been through everything together.
We were back at hers and as we walked up to the door and she unlocked it we just started talking about the last 14 years. Just general conversation about what had happened at school over the time as we walked into the house led to reminiscing about our friendship as we went up to her room.
“I’m just quickly getting changed” she said as we entered her room. She had an en-suite bathroom which she walked into and started getting changed in. She hadn’t shut the door properly but it didn’t bother either of us, like I said we’ve been best friends for years and we had seen, done and known everything about each other that there was to know. “Ashley, you didn’t shut the door properly”. I just told her, it didn’t bother us but at the same time it’s not as if we would sit around naked. She didn’t bother shutting the door, there wasn’t much point as she was almost done changing so she just came out as she finished pulling on her top.
My first attempt at erotica
Trigger Warning: non-consensual sex
A drop of water clung to the skin stretched taut on her spine. As she stood up, a few other drops from her hair combined into a transient stream that ran down her back.
The stationary drop from earlier joined them on the journey towards her bottom, navigating the curves.
They finally pooled on the rug below her feet for a split second before they disappeared into the patterned texture.
She felt a warm chill rise through her spine. Her nipples hardened instantly. And then relaxed slightly to a rigidity that would last longer.
Shivering, she reached for a towel to dry her hair. The shiver spread to her stomach.
And lower.
Her breasts wobbled slightly as gravity took over. Her arms had grabbed onto the piece of cloth. Her frame straightened to regain balance. As she towelled her hair, the cloth brushed her scalp occasionally, through the growing tangle of thick, matted hair. She then ran the towel once over each of her arms, traversed her stomach upwards to her breasts. Then she unclenched her fists and let the full length of the towel fall, one end still scrunched up lightly under her chest.
The Cam Girl Pt. 4 (finale)
The VR had changed everything of course. Whereas before he had spent his nights gawking in front of a thin and luminous square he now felt almost as though he lived with Olivia at night and on the weekends.
He went to work during the day and spent his nights blissfully strapped to a VR rig, acting out the fantasy of being in a real relationship. Before he had been squarely pinned in the gravity well of sensory reminders of his dingy Newark apartment.
Now his consciousness hung in space and followed wherever she took him. They went to the gym, they hung out on the street and in Cafes. Harold’s body would have wasted away had she not insisted on a multi-directional treadmill for him to walk on while they travelled. She also continued bullying him into weight lifting sessions but he did not mind as much any more. He actually had a body now too, or at least the start of one. He was getting longer looks, albeit from strange older ladies on the train. He had been seeing Olivia for six months now and was actually starting to look like a grizzled, and possibly handsome, 28ish year old, rather than a pudgy young man who was about to die.