For two years you waited through prison to have me. You wanted me, my face, my body, these tits, these legs while you languished in a cell with only my photographs and the shower room to give you any relief. You wanted me so badly you had me be the first to visit you when you got out. Not your overweight fiancee with the low self esteem and the affinity for zen healing. No, you wanted the bad girl. The bad girl in six inch whore heels who you talked filthy to, the one with the size six figure and double D breasts who you could pick up and fuck against the wall with her legs wrapped around your ass. Not the fat girl with the elastic waistbands and the sensible sneakers who sat around waiting to marry you because she couldn't get any other man to date her. And we sure humiliated the shit out of her.
Chrissy Fills the Sexretary Position
Chrissy was filled with bubbling nervousness which she hid behind a professional exterior. She looked the part for her job interview this morning, albeit a tiny bit too sexy, and so far the tall, serious man interviewing her seemed like he wanted to hire her.
She was surprised that the ad for this secretary job had such an emphasis on the desired personality type of the applicants, but she wrote it off as a precaution against ornery old secretaries, which can be bad for business. Chrissy matched everything: "Upbeat, cooperative, happy, very willing, people-person". As a bonus Chrissy could type several hundred words per minute and had the kind of voice that could draw people in and convince them to trust her over the phone.
She was the perfect secretary by normal standards, but she didn't know that she was also currently passing a more unconventional set of standards.
Chrissy began to suspect that something was amiss when she caught the brown haired, handsome interviewer glance at her breasts, and she suddenly became aware that he could only be a couple years older than her at most. With a disinterested expression, he asked if she remembered that they had a modern and professional uniform they required all their secretaries to wear, and when she said that she did he curtly prompted her to give her measurements.
Excerpt From A Very 80s Erotic Story
M/F
Upon returning to our table, my fantasies were flowing like water. Tiffany hadn’t a clue. I noticed a small white ribbon wrapped around some candle décor on the table.
“Place both your hands under the middle of the table, palms facing towards each other, wrists tightly together,” I instructed her instinctively.
She did so immediately, without a look of hesitation in her eye. Was this the wine acting up or was she genuinely becoming more comfortable around me? Perhaps more aroused?
As she watched, I casually undid the ribbon around the candle base and brought it under the table, feeling forward until my hands met hers. Looking into her eyes as she gazed back, I gently tied the ribbon around her delicate wrists, binding them together.
“Move yourself closer to me. Move your chair inward,” I told her, satisfied with my work.
Tiffany complied. We were now only a short distance apart from each other, as this was a small table. It was then that I noticed her following orders immediately and without question, without even so much as saying anything. She was in a completely submissive mindset, which I fed directly off of.
Before Dawm (MF)
You have such a wicked imagination, maybe I haven't told you. The pictures arrive in my email with an address and a time, no words, those would be pointless. Instead you off me just a single picture of a door left slightly ajar, and a pair of black lace panties laid out in the entryway like a dark promise. I investigate further of course, I scour your profile and wonder about the sensual shots of your body that is never fully on display.
I wonder what waits for me in that darkness. When the hour finally draws near I can't help but make the journey, can't help but fight the nerves of anticipation and fear. As I come to your door and push it open I find those panties laying there and almost turn away. There are so many ways this could go wrong. One step, another, I slip into your home and let the door gently close. Greeted only by dark mounds of furniture and the distant outline of the kitchen I take a few more steps inside, ready to flee.
That's when I hear your voice.
[first time] I participated in a sex ritual for a promotion.
I don't know how to begin this story. Despite it happening over a year ago, I've never told it to anyone. Partially, I am ashamed that I agreed to participate at all. But mostly it is because I do not feel as though I agreed to participate as extensively as I did. A man should fear no things, but I fear, in large degree, the reactions my friends and loved ones would have if I told them I was snookered into having ritualistic, Satanic sex with another man. I don't feel like I'm alone in this.
There was only one place I wanted to work after I graduated from law school. Ever since sophomore year of undergrad, I was obsessed with getting this one job. It consumed me. I worked hard. I got into a T1 law school. I made review and dean's list and I got my dream job. It was everything I ever wanted. The hours were awful, the work was droll, I had no social life, but the pay was ludicrously inflated. All I wanted was an enormous pay check, no matter the cost. My father was a minister in a small town in the south. I drove a brand new, fully stocked Lexus and I was only 26. I had escaped small America and I lived in the city. I was working for one of the biggest firms in the world and many other lawyers were accepting contractor work site the economy tanked. In a way that feels so incredibly good: I won.
Sexy Secretary [mf]
As you walk into my office, I'm sitting at my desk. I motion for you to come over. I wait for you to come around to my side of the desk. "Do you know why I asked you stay late?" And without waiting for your response I wrap my arms around you and move in for a kiss, deeply kissing you. My body moves you closer to my desk with your ass just resting at the edge, I move my hands down your dress to rest on your succulent breasts. Massaging them rolling them into each other, I push open your top to reveal your glorious tits, I move my mouth to your exposed nipples, sucking them into my mouth and biting on them. Using my tongue to flick them in my mouth, I push you up on my desk spreading your legs open to reveal your sexy slit. Now that your in a good position, I move down to view your prize. I'm happy you forgot to wear your panties today, I bury my face in your forbidden temple, I suck your clit into my mouth, licking under the hood I use one hand rub the region above my mouth pulling it out of my mouth and sucking it back in. After I see you moaning with delight I take my pants off and bury my shaft inside you. Pulling your legs together and resting them around my shoulder, I continue to plunge inside of you, long deep strokes, innnnn ouuuuuut. I pull out suddenly and watch you let out a slight whimper as you want me back inside you. I roll you over and spread your legs apart, plunging myself deep inside you, I can feel your warm pussy wrapped around my throbbing cock, I grab a handful of your hair and pull you back. Deep hard thrusts I slap your ass, and continue to push inside you, with a free hand I start to run it down the crack of your ass and rest my thumb on your asshole, circling around it I begin to push inside when I start to feel my lad about to give way. I pull out and rotate you around, looking down at your amazing body I can't control it any longer and shoot my load all over your stomach, with tiny droplets falling on your dress. With both of us sweating and breathing heavily I pull my pants back up and say with a smile, Miss X you're dismissed for the evening…..
Complete, original cyberpunk short story “Jizzemboweler” [mf] [anal]
[Warning: This story is not for everyone. If you do not enjoy the harder aspects of erotica, I respectfully submit, you may not enjoy this work.]
Jizzemboweler
Made in DNA
"Permission tat please."
The man smiled at the female security officer guarding the gate of the Floating World and nodded, "Of course." Unzipping his trousers, he pulled out his pecker.
She cupped his cock from underneath in a warm hand and placed her other atop the tattoo there. The scanner in her palm flashed a blue-white light outlining his dick.
He moved to redress, but the officer kept his dick in a firm hold. He froze. One wrong move and she'd send a thousand volts through it with her TEzer.
"Quite weighty." A trace of suspicion in her voice. She hefted several times, letting the meat slap against the flesh of her palm.
With cool, practiced calm, he blushed, "Ma'am. I do believe I'm flustered." The meat in her hand increased as the flow of blood brought on a partial erection.
She dropped his dick with a glare in her eye and signaled for him to dress. He did so, tipped his hat and started through the large, wooden gate.
Working in a Distant Land pt 1 [mf]
Author stuff – I definitely know this is a place to call home or hope to for my work after reading a couple stories and seeing the link to Literotica. I would say that that site formed some of my formative years when I had only dial up internet access.
I have been something of a struggling author for a while with a wide array of topics. I read somewhere a while back to write what you know. I claim not expertise but I have a pretty good imagination with sex and find inspiration is a lot of places and times. So I figured to start getting my feet wet with something I feel comfortable with I should write some erotic fiction. I have a few different stories in the works and this is the first part of the series Working in a Distant Land. I hope you enjoy and helpful critiques will be welcome. I know I have improvements to make as a writer and I would love to have an environment that I am comfortable in to do just that.
Part 1 introduces the subjects and doesn't have much more than story line details. I already have where I want to go next so it works for me.
Ivy (batman/poison ivy, MF) Open to ideas
Wrote this one overnight on my iphone while laying in bed, so it is subpar. I am open to constructive criticism, ideas of things to lose or add.
Ivy.
She's sitting pretty on the giant flower petal, Ivy, twisting and wriggling, waiting. She knows she's done something bad… On purpose.. All for one reason. The chase, the thrill, the capture. Her trophy, a petite little miss, dangling a story above her head in a bird cage like box, swinging just so slightly. The bait, the trophy, has given up calling for help, given up bargaining and pleading. She just stands and waits, and swings now.
Ivy can't help but look up, sneak little peeks up the trophy's skirt. Waiting to be punished, becoming impatient, Ivy's luscious red locks float over her engorged breasts, rising and falling as she breathes heavily. She considers lowering the cage, seducing this little woman, but it is so unlikely she will cooperate. Instead, she lays back, spreads her legs and rubs her pussy firmly through her green leggings, hoping the tiny woman sees… Watches. She can feel wetness slowly making it's way through the fabric. She wants to cum so terribly, but not alone, not this time. She slows her rubbing to a light tease and stares up at her trophy, waiting to make eye contact.
Lola [m/sm]
Hey Reddit <3 Nikki Crescent here! I have another story here for you. I hope you like it, it's from my book, Lola. Let me know what you think!! :3
The elevator doors opened and Frankie led Lola down the hall towards his presidential suite. He unlocked, opened and held the door for the tall, dark beauty. She walked in and looked around impressed.
The warm, soft vibrant city lights danced their way into the expensive room, gracefully lighting the expensive furniture and Lola’s beautiful face.
“It’s beautiful,” Lola said as her eyes twinkled, reflecting the vibrant metropolis.
“It’s home—At least for the night.”
“Where’s your actual home?”
“New York City. I haven’t been home in almost a year though. Even when we’re recording, we’re in San Francisco.”
“Do you miss New York?”
“Yeah. It’ll be nice when the next big band comes along and we can go back to back to playing bars and colleges in New York. Those were good times,” Frankie said, walking into the room. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”