watching [m]e jack o[ff]

This is a quick(ish) one. I was only reminded of this by another (excellent) recent post in GWS.

This happened about 20 years ago when I was in supreme physical shape. My ex and her flatmate (Kay) had been FWB's since we broke up some 6 months previously. They'd had a drunken night of debauchery with another friend (Kaz) who I'd met that involved stripping for each other and a roll of film. I was actually invited before the fact but as it turned out, declined.

About a week or so later, I was invited over by Kay to check out the photos from the night. I'd never seen Kaz in any state of undress before and it turned out there was one photo where all three of them were topless. I was pretty excited about that, to say the least.

Before I go further; Kay was my ex's BFF whom I'd known for years before we split. She was now my FWB, and as far as FWB's go, she was awesome. There were no secrets between us; she knew what got me off, and loved engineering those situations for our mutual enjoyment!

It’s Good to be Home (first attempt at erotica – comments/critique/anything welcome)

As I said, my first attempt – worth continuing? Sorry, forgot the category and can't edit the title – [MF] is really all for now.


Levin sat back back in his chair, rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. 7:35 already and not much to show for another long day. Kyla should be home by now, but wasn't. Her flight must have been delayed. Probably just as well, he would have just been distracted. He tried to remember if they had anything to eat in the apartment; she usually did the shopping and she’d been gone for almost a week.

He raised his arms above his head and stretched, feeling his white dress shirt straining at his biceps. With a resigned sigh, he dropped his arms and closed the lid of his laptop. Just as he was heading to the fridge he heard keys in the lock. Kyla. In an instant the weight of the day lifted from his body. He moved to the door.

Published
Categorized as Erotica

Wife does rough Anal, A2P, A2M (long)

I have always enjoyed /gonewildstories. I think I enjoy them so much because its real people, doing real sex acts. So I wanted to share one of mine.

Back story: My wife and I are both 27 and been together for 9 years now. I've always been way more sexual then her but over the years I've turned her from only doing bjs and missionary into trying almost anything I can think up(except ass fisting, still working that!) We have anal regularly now and most times she requests it during sex because it pushes her over the edge faster and she prefers the anal orgasms to vaginal. My wife is tall, 5'11, wavy brunette hair. She is very curvy, she's an avid crossfiter so shes toned and slender, but has the best ass of any white girl I know, a true bubble butt. The second I see her ass bare I just go for it.

(MF) Photoshoot Fail

So this is another story about Beth and I, past stories are here(http://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/2zafnb/mf_photoshoot_with_a_sex_addict_learning_who_i/) for the first part, and here(http://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/2ze7b4/mf_2nd_day_after_photoshoot/) for the 2nd day. We thought of the idea to have a valentines day shoot, take it to a hotel, offer it to a couple other girls, make a little cash on the side, and get some sexy photos.

The day comes around, and her fiance at the time, gets on her case about doing the shoot, and makes her cancel going to the shoot, saying she shouldn't be working with me, etc etc. So I meet up with a couple other girls we got planned for the day shoot, I already rented the hotel room, so I couldn't really back out. I let the girls have the room, just because I didn't want my wife to think I’m fucking around, even if I was.

Cant. [MF][BDSM][Abuse][Light blood play][Alone, together]

“Why are you wearing that lipstick?” His normally kind and even voice is low, husky. Just on the edge of a growl or something more primal. He moves towards her, the entrance of the bistro, with the speed only a monster can have. And then his green eyes are upon her, his thick blond hair hardly moved by the chilling wind. His broad frame barely constrained by the sports jacket and his teeth sharp as his tone. “This is why you wanted me to meet you here, isn't it?”

She doesn't know what he's talking about. Her heart is rising to the back of her throat as she denies it, saying that it was just to–

“Shut it.” He looks around the street and waits as a couple passes, glowering at her, so intense that they both look back before vanishing. “You think I'm going to let you do this? Walk all over and wear your whore-shaded lipstick?” He's closer to her now, enough that she can feel his heat. “I'm not those little boys you've dated. You can't just put yourself on display and expect to be worked out. So I'm going to give you a chance.” He stands back up to full height and takes two steps back. “Admit that you wore the lipstick in order to get attention or I'm going to punish you.”

Dorm Room Eavesdropping [m/f]

My sophomore year of college I lived next door to Pete. (All names are changed but the tale is true as best as I can remember). Pete was a senior whose roommate dropped out, leaving him a room to himself. Pete was a stud. He looked like a young Michael Douglas with dimples and short, curly blond hair. Charming and athletic, he was universally liked, particularly by the young women on campus.

About my third night in the dorms that year I was about to turn in when I heard a slight thud against the wall, than another. It was faint at first, but soon got louder, and when I heard the characteristic voice of one of my (stunningly attractive) female classmate, Emily, I realized exactly what was happening. I pressed my ear against the wall and could easily hear every groan and sigh. It so happened Pete was fucking Emily's brains out.

I could hear her sigh along with his thrusting, in tandem with the pounding on the wall, which became rhythmic. Apparently I was late to the party, because she announced she was about to come again.

My old jobud (M/M)

After reading some of your stories about past experiences I thought I would share my own good times. I had a friend I used to jerk off with in my late teens, early 20's. We've since lost touch, but I would love the opportunity to meet up with him again one day and start off where we left off.

HIS name was Paul and we hadn't really hung out in a while. We hadn't hung out because I was dating a girl (Rachel) and was pretty much ignoring my friends and hanging out with her all the time. That is until she told me she was going away to a new school and wanted to break up. There went my girlfriend and my source of constant sex.

So I started hanging out with my friends again. Paul and I seemed to always be the first ones out in the day and the last ones to want to go home at night. We would usually go back to my house and play video games or watch a movie, nothing really crazy had ever happened until one day we started talking about girls/sex. We were talking about the usual shit, who we thought was hot, who we wanted to fuck and he asked me "what was it like to fuck Rachel?" I told him all about her physical features, how she shaved her bush, etc. He was doing the same, telling me about girls he fucked around with.

The Rebellious Stepdaughter, Part 5 [Mf][blkmail][inc]

Dawn hits me hard the next morning. I’m not as young as I used to be, and partying apparently takes a lot more out of me than I remember. I sit up in bed and resolve to take some Excedrin to keep this headache at bay. I have big plans for today: heading to Home Depot to get supplies to fix Carrie’s bedroom door, and trying out the third and most dangerous part of my plan to turn Carrie from a rebellious teen whore into an obedient, secret cumslut for me. After all, my wife is coming back from her business trip in about a week’s time. If this plan is going to blow up in my face, I need to have time to work out… alternate arrangements… for my stepdaughter’s future. I run through everything in my mind. I have the perfect blackmail in place to deter Carrie from going to the police, and the perfect cover story to deflect blame back onto her if she does bring the authorities down on my head. Between her wild past and my mild-mannered facade, it won’t take much effort to sell the story that Carrie is spinning wild allegations in order to turn attention away from her illegal activities. Drugs and baggies are hidden throughout her room and in her car, sealing the deal for possession with intent to sell. She also knows that if she tries anything, I call my biker friends who will then use her up and leave her for dead in a ditch somewhere safely out of the way. As I make my way downstairs to make breakfast for myself and my captive, I decide that I need to do more than just level a threat of punishment against Carrie should she disobey me. No, I need to give her some sort of positive reinforcement if she complies. I’ve been lucky enough to maintain a lucrative, steady job for the past few years and have some money socked away. To a teenage girl, that money may well look like a fortune and could buy a lot of nice things. A plan begins to take shape, and I resolve to go talk to Carrie before heading out to get a new door. About fifteen minutes later, I’m pushing aside the china cabinet with which Jacob, Cass and I blocked the basement door last night. I made the hasty decision to leave Carrie unbound overnight, and I’m acutely aware that I may have to endure some sort of ill-conceived escape attempt out of her. I have my stun gun with me in case she gets out of hand. Cautiously I open the door and make my way down the flight of stairs into the basement. I’m in luck, Carrie is still asleep. I’m not sure if her lack of plotting indicates that I can trust her, or simply that she’s exhausted beyond measure after last night. She’s shed the corset, stockings and schoolgirl skirt – I can’t say that I blame her, they can’t be comfortable – and for lack of an alternative she’s sleeping naked. Shafts of light pour in through the thick block-glass window and fall on her upper body, making her red hair dance in the light. She’s sleeping on her stomach with one knee pulled up, and her arms around the pillow on which her head is resting. The sheet only covers her legs and hips, leaving her exposed from her lower back upwards. I admire the curvature of her back and shoulders, the roller-coaster curve of her hips and waist. Her 32DD’s swell beneath her, bulging outwards against the resistance of the mattress and making me reconsider my resolve not to fuck her just yet. I sit the tray of food down as quietly as I can, checking to be sure she doesn’t stir. I slowly pull the sheet down from her hips, revealing a pale, tight ass and firm thighs. I unzip my jeans and take my dick out – this girl will probably never lose her ability to get me hard at first sight – and climb into bed behind her. She stirs as I spit into my hand for lube, surely she’s dry, then wakes fully and whips her head around to see me behind her. “NO!” she screams and tries to get away, “no more you fucking bastard!” I’m too quick for her, though, and grab her hips and pull her back to me. With one hand I force her head into the pillow, laying my full weight onto her so that she can’t squirm away. With my other hand I work my dick into her tight, fiery pussy and begin to pound her doggy style. Once I’m inside her, I wrap my hands securely around her small, toned waist and leave her upper body free to struggle in vain. Carrie is trying for all she’s worth to get away, and unbeknownst to her these struggles actually make the sex feel better for me. Her hands are clawing at the pillows, at the headboard, trying to find purchase so that she can pull herself away from me. I long to reach up and grab a fistful of her red hair, or grope her bouncing, swinging tits, but I don’t dare loosen my grip on her. “Oh my god” she’s sobbing, “just leave me the fuck alone, you pervert!” I push her further up on the bed, so far that I can bang her head into the headboard with a powerful thrust. I do it once for effect, she cries out in pain but stops talking. I’m not going to draw this out – this is just a short, sharp fuck to clear my head and calm me down before I have a serious talk with her. I let my eyes wander over her body: her back and shoulders tight from trying to squirm away, the swell of her hips against her narrow waist and the dimples at the small of her back… that’s it, I’m done. I can feel the orgasm burning inside my shaft, and in the heat of the moment I reach one hand up and grab Carrie by the hair, pulling her back until she’s forced to support herself with her arms. I pull out and beat myself off all over her back and ass, shooting a few ropes of cum into her hair, showering her completely. When the intensity has subsided, I drop her. She falls face-first onto the bed, then quickly scrambles up and backs away from me, oblivious to the epic load of cum on her back. “Go get cleaned up, princess.” I say to her as I fasten my pants back, “I have something I need to discuss with you.” I can see the contempt in her eyes as she backs away from me, doing her best to cover her perky breasts as she moves towards the bathroom. She darts inside and closes the door, finding a brief refuge at last from my prying eyes. I hear the shower engage. About a half hour later, she emerges with one towel covering her body and a second one wrapped around her wet hair. I can still make out her figure beneath the towel, but it doesn’t drive me insane… glad to have had that release before to clear my head. Carrie stands at the other end of the basement, eyes cold fire. “You said you wanted to talk? Well, talk.” She set me in a hard stare; one which I assumed was intended to wither me. It didn’t. “Okay, princess. You know all about the bad things I’ve got arranged to bring down on you if you try to tell anyone about these past few days. Best case scenario, you’ll find yourself in jail for possession with intent. Worst case scenario, I call Cass and Jacob and they have their way with you – they and about ten other bikers – and leave what’s left of you in a ditch somewhere.” I see a hint of fear flash over her eyes, for a moment the icy cold façade breaks and I see a teenage girl afraid for her life. Good, I think. Be afraid, it’s good motivation. “Everyone will assume you’ve run off with whatever piece of shit boyfriend you’re blowing this week, and no one will look for you very hard.” I stand up and walk over towards her. She backs away, until she bumps into the wall. “Now, that all sounds perfectly awful, and it’s meant to. I want you to know that your life is over if you cross me. But, this isn’t all bad for you. You know I make good money, and I could really spoil you if I were so inclined. So think about it. In a few years you’ll move out, move away, and go on to do who-knows-what with your life. You and I will likely never see each other again, since I plan to dump your frosty box mother as soon as you move away. But in the meantime… keep me happy, and I’ll keep you happy. You get to have your same life, with two exceptions: you’re at my beck and call if I want you to get me off, and you get to go shopping once a week with a chunk of money I’ll give you. Think about it, princess… how many guys do you fuck in a week anyway? How many guys”, I reach up and cup the side of her face here, “have you let blow their load all over this pretty face? This will just be one more dick in your mouth, and you’ll be rewarded for being my good little slut until you go your own way.” Her face is set into a mask, unreadable. I gesture towards her tray of food. “Eat something. I have to go to the hardware store to fix up your door. By the time I’m finished, I need an answer from you. I need to know if you’re going to play nice.” I turn and walk up the stairs, calling behind me as I go, “I’ll throw some clothes down to you before I leave.” I shut the door behind me, snd push the china cabinet back to block her in. I head up to her room, past the wreckage of the previous door, and grab a few handfuls of clothes out of her drawers. I unblock the door, open it and throw the clothes down to her. “You have a few hours, princess, then I’m gonna need an answer.” By mid-afternoon, I’ve replaced the door and cleaned up all traces of our violent encounter that first night. Time to see if Carrie is going to pick the hard road or the easy road… I head down the basement stairs and call out to her. “Okay, beautiful… which is it? Are you going to play nice? I walk downstairs and see Carrie standing next to the bed, still wrapped in a towel. Her eyes look amused rather than resentful. She drops the towel and I see that she’s dressed herself: she’s wearing short black skirt and a spaghetti-strap blue tank top that leaves little to the imagination. She walks over to me slowly and deliberately, and I ready my hand to dart for the stun gun if she gets out of hand. She closes the distance between us, her hips swaying and her breasts softly bouncing. “I”, she announces as she grabs my dick and stands on her tiptoes to reach my ear, “am going to play nice.” With the last word she gives my ear a quick lick with her pierced tongue, and backs up. “Now, fucking spoil me and give me my freedom back, or you’ll have to sacrifice having two more years with this.” Her eyes are steady, calculating, and I am slightly taken aback. Why should it surprise me, though? Carrie is a headstrong teenage girl who’s used to getting what she wants. Maybe she sees this as a way to regain some power in the relationship. Whatever the reasons, I decide to try her out. “Ok, princess” I say. “Let me go get changed and I’ll take you to the mall.” She leans forward and pulls her shoulders in, accentuating her pale and freckled cleavage. “Don’t be too long or I might change my mind”. I climb the stairs and secure the door one last time. While I walk up to my bedroom, I phone Jacob. I find out that Cass is working, but Jacob is free. “Listen man, there’s five hundred bucks in it for you if you’ll tail me and Carrie to the mall. I’m going to try and take her out today, but if she tries to run, I want you to be ready to grab her.”

Three girls, one room

When I moved to university a few years ago, I ended up finding a room house sharing with two other girls, and we instantly hit it off. Before we knew it we were all best buddies and would talk about absolutely everything, including sex of course – we were cool with each other bringing guys home, and would talk frankly about whatever was on our minds in that regard.

This story actually starts months ago – we were all going through a sexless spell for some reason, and during a girls night in and after a lot of drinking one of us piped up something along the lines of "I just want a guy who I can call up to come and eat me out anytime". We all agreed that this sounded great, and we ended up joking that maybe we should share one guy and have him on-call to go down on us, before talking about where we'd find one and so on while laughing our asses off. Somehow, that conversation became a running joke, and we'd often refer back to it as a joke, or as a general way of admitting that we were feeling horny at that point in time.

A Bench and a Blindfold [bdsm] [fantasy] [mf] [ff] [ccw]

My workshop is on the lowest level of the ship. There’s only two mechanics on the United Planets 253 cruiser, and Kyle works up in the control room so I can get pretty lonely. My workshop is probably the loudest place in all of the Xeon Galaxy. The hardware for the ship’s AI is down here and sometimes she decides to purge her old files and that gets her fan all riled up. The engines are here too, so there’s a pretty loud hum constantly. And of course, all of my various machines make a lot of noises. I don’t mind the background noise. It makes my isolated workshop feel a little bit less empty.