Good Girl – F/F

She said she loved getting home before I was done with my shower because that was the only time she got to hear me sing. Said my voice filled the bathroom, overflowed into our bedroom, where she could feel the air vibrating with my sorrow or happiness.

When she first told me this, I imagined her solid body resting on my side of the bed, blue buttoned-down work shirt exposing her white undershirt, feet crossed at the ankles, fingers laced behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. I came out and found her like that for real once; eyes closed, face blissful. When she said she loved my singing and began waiting for me on our bed, I began coming out in my towel instead of dressed, getting a rise out of how her beautiful green eyes would follow me through the room.

“What are you looking at?” I’d throw over my shoulder as I re-pinned the loose strands of hair that managed to get away.

“Something awful pretty.” She’d grin at my back from her position on the bed.

The Toast. [MF][oral][cum/squirt fetish]

Candles light the dining room where Lily and Daniel sit across from each other. The table holds traces of a simple but elegant meal. They are celebrating the sixth anniversary of their marriage, and with the dinner finished, all that is left is a toast – their own special tradition.

“Ready?” he asked her. She only smiled back, her eyes glittering in the candlelight. Daniel got up and slowly began to clear the table, his movements clear and deliberate. She sat there watching him. She knew he was taking his time to build anticipation, as he always does, and it was working. She could feel the warmth starting to build between her legs, and spread her legs slightly under the table. She shivered as the cool air touched the warm flesh of her pussy. She longed to reach down and touch it, she longed to rush across the room and to bury her mouth in his, to tear at his clothes and to rub her flesh against his, bus she just bit her lip and continued sitting, watching her husband now heading casually back from the cupboard with two glasses – one large wineglass and one tall shot glass. He placed them in front of Lily, and pushed the candles to the edges of the table.

Patrick, my Prince of Narnia

Sex. On my brain, all the time. I hate it, the frustration, the need to touch, to feel, to be felt, to cum, to scream, to just get completely fucking lost in those moments with someone. It’s been a curse since a young age. Since the first romantic novel that filled my head with lushy, sensual men, just waiting around every corner to sweep me off my, oh so horny, feet. It’s the little things, the glances in the hall way, the locking eyes across the room, the secret kiss behind closed doors that would cause so much turmoil if found out. It’s the hot passion, the hair pulling, the biting, the choking, the seduction, the domination. Everything about it just hypnotizes me, seduces me, takes me places beyond complete and utter fulfillment. It’s a curse that drives me to heartbreak. Thou heart doth lie in the Vagina. It drives me to feel that I cared, or loved him, but maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. But it’s a craving so intense, that merely touching myself brings no suffice to my ache, to my hunger. It didn’t use to be this way… my Rabbit used to manage. Until my knight in shining armor walked in, and took away all my sanity, on that one. single. night. Once upon a time… I met a guy named Patrick. Drinks. That’s all it was supposed to be. Just drinks. Two casual new friends, having a drink. But he knew what the fuck he was doing. All in his getup… the way I had never seen him before, dark clothes, boots, that stupid sexy baseball cap, like wow… without that uniform, I just melted like butter. Picked me up, like a gentleman, held my door, like a boss. Ordered my drinks, like a man in control… he knows exactly what he is doing. The conversation was light, flirty, then got a bit heavier. He proceeded to tell me the types of things he is into. The weird “kinky” shit, thats far beyond any kind of kinky I had ever heard of, but man was I intrigued. But again, we were just their as friends… so I behaved like a little polite, naive little girl. An hour later it was time for the most boring movie EVER. Lincoln. As we walked to the theater he immediately grabbed my hand… such a boss. Not even a flinch, not even the slightest signal of nervousness. Just full on went for it. “Umm… is this a date?” “This is definitely a date.” He says… Such a smooth guy. We sit down, chit chat a bit during previews. Laughing to ourselves. I felt very comfortable. He was so honest. So real. So… genuine. He told me had butterflies crazy bad, that he was sooo nervous about tonight, yet he didn’t show a single sign of it. He told me he knew we would be great friends when he first met me, he just, had a feeling, a spark. Indeed. The feeling was mutual. Then something happened… Something I didn’t expect. This one moment, and I was gone. This one act, and my heart was no longer mine. He got quiet. Just looked at me. His eyes said everything. And my heart stopped beating. “I should have done this a long time ago” I was forcefully pulled into his grasp. His hands went to my neck, his mouth went to mine, for the most mind-fuck-blowing kiss of my god damn mind. It was like our lips were made for each other. They fit perfect, just fucking perfect. And his grasp on me, firm, demanding, desperate, hungry, loving, passionate, everything. Every fucking feeling I have ever felt, was in that moment. Lincoln was going to have to wait. His lips were perfect, his tongue was perfect, his hands, the way they touched me… just damn right perfect. Lincoln was a long movie. Thank GOD for that. Our hands grasped the entire time. So, so many kisses in between. And touches. And smiles, and blushes. And whispers. Those sexy, seductive, whispers. And then one whisper just killed me inside. “Tonight, you are mine.” Sold! Just throw me up on your white stallion and we will head off into the sunset. The movie was over, we headed out across the mall, hand in hand. It was just perfection. It felt so right. Everything just felt, surreal. Never once in my life had someone made me feel this way, not in a week, not in a month, or a year, and this one man, made me feel this way, in one hour. I felt like I had met my best friend, my boyfriend, my lover, my husband and the father of my future children on this night… and it wasn’t even over yet. We got to the car, and I half expected him to just open it for me, but instead I was crushed against it. Completely helpless to stop him as he made me forget to breath for a second time. The way his hands went to my neck, through my hair, as he kissed me deep, ran his lips down my neck, his hands roaming, touching everywhere. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost in myself, sucked into a void of complete sexual, feverous, cluelessness. All I could do was grasp onto his arms and hold myself upright before my feet went out from under me. The security guy drives by, and unexpectedly cheers for us like we just scored a touch down… classy. The car ride was magical. We laughed, he told me about his life. Such personal, intimate things about his life, and I opened up as well, shared my entire life story, just let it all fall off, as if we had known each other for years. It felt so right. Like I was meant to meet him. I had never met a man so in touch with himself, with his desires and emotions. Just laid them out on the floor for the world to see, and I loved that. We got to his house. It was so late, and I had work the next day, yet I gave zero fucks. I was two steps into his door before he dominated me. Crushed me beneath his body with his mouth and his hands, so forceful, and aggressive, and animalistic. I was nervous, and scared but so excited and hot. I was already soaked before we had even got into his car… He took of my shirt, and kissed down my neck, over my breasts, and bit me. Holy hell, he bit me, and it was shocking, and weird and wonderful. He grabbed onto my hair and forced my head back, while he sucked on my neck. Gentle was not in his physical capabilities. This was so new to me, so mysterious, so unknown that I couldn’t stop! It felt so right and so controlled and I felt so helpless and dazed and any sense of preservation had left hours ago. “Get on your knees on my bed.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t have to be. I did what I was told. And I liked it. I wanted him to tell me what to do next. In that moment I knew, I was a submissive. He came up behind me and my head was again roughly pulled back, his fist twined in my hair, His hand wrapped tightly around my neck as he squeezed, and pull me to him in a hungry kiss. He pulled down my jeans and ran his hands along my thighs to my ass, slowly, gently…. SLAP Sold, for a second time to number 23. Everything seemed blurred, slowed down, hazy after that. My mind was drunk on sexuality. My hands couldn’t control themselves, I had to touch him, I had t see him, to taste him. I wanted him in my mouth, to please him, to control me. He took his pants off. Sweet baby Jesus. I wasn’t sure if this night was going to be able to progress. Giving him head… did no longer seem like an option, and I wasn’t sure how well I would do in any other…place. He did not seem even a little concerned. “You have no control over what happens tonight, you are mine.” Yes. I. Am. I was forced onto the bed, turned upright, bare ass naked as he just ate me with his eyes… and then he ate me with his mouth. I think I must have forgotten how to speak, because the only sounds I could manage out were screams of intense, unbelievable pleasure. Never had a man succeeded in this aspect, of giving me enjoyable oral sex. This man… made it a work of art. Of complete exquisite art. My first oral climax, ever. Then the very questionable, “is this going to work” moment was upon me… He was laid on his back as I straddled him. Upright on my knees prepared to very carefully and slowly take in this man’s giant blessing from the Cosmos. It was difficult at first, a slow process. But at the first upward stoke my body tensed and shuddered as I climaxed instantly. I was convinced he had the “magic stick.” Once twice, three, four times I came over and over again as I rode him, his hands on my hips, in my hair, pulling me down to a passionate kiss every so often. Holding onto my neck, choking me lightly, reminding me that he was in control. It was like I had found the treasure chest at the end of the rainbow, the holy grail, the fountain of youth, pandora’s box, all from this man’s penis. And we weren’t even at 100% penetration. It seemed impossible at his size. He turned me over on my hands and knees. But went much slower. Much more gentler, and his face got still. I could tell that things were about to get serious. “Tell me if you need me to stop…” Nope. What happened next, to this day, will be the one moment I will never forget. It has been tattooed on my heart and my soul, a cancer within me that I will always remember to this day and the next. He thrust into me, full force, 100%, oh my gosh, I felt like I was dying in such a wonderful way. It hurt, but in such a good, powerful, addictive way. Like scratching an itch that only itched more the more that you scratched it. God it hurt so good, with every thrust I was on the verge of telling him to stop, but the words wouldn’t escape me. I wanted to ride this out, to feel this, to experience this, amazing, terrifying feeling that was building up inside me. He held me so hard to him, like he owned me, I was his. He was mine. Every thrust I fell deeper into the void. A feeling stirred within me. The pit of my abdomen tightened. I didn’t know whether it hurt or if it felt good but I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t know what was happening, something was washing over me, and the sound of his breathing and his voice calling my name just sent me to another place in time. My whole body was on fire, my stomach in knots, quenching harder and harder until something released inside me. I felt like the entire weight of the world just shot out of me, poured out of me, and I screamed again and again for what seemed like forever. The feeling was so intense, so mind numbing, and got more intense with every thrust, I thought I was losing myself, maybe this is what dying feels like. A single moment longer, the feeling spiked and I screamed and he climaxed with me, it was so beautiful and passionate and sexy and I collapsed onto the sheets, completely gone from the world. I had had my first, and only true, internal orgasm. He pulled me close to him afterward, wrapped his arms around me, nuzzled me and kissed me and ran his fingers through my hair. He smiled at me, and laughed his goofy, glorious laugh. I wanted to cry. My eyes welled with tears. I fell in love with him at that moment. And I have loved him for every second of every minute since that night. He was my best friend. He was the reason I wanted to wake up every morning, just to see his face. I didn’t ever know what love truly was, until I met him. We shared secrets, and stories, we supported each other, loved each other. I was on his side, and he was always on mine. He just got me, the way no one else did, and I got him. We fought, we said hurtful things, but we always came back to each other, always found ourselves in a loving embrace full of i’m sorry’s and I love you’s. Such a short lived, dysfunctional, beautiful friendship we had. We shared so many good memories in only a handful of months… But our lives paths ran in different directions. His heart would never belong to me. I loved him, so I had to let him go. And there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of him. Every day I fear that I will never find another one like him. Never experience that complete and utter physical and emotional satisfaction that I felt when I was with him. I will never forget Narnia.

[mf] [light bdsm] Home after a long day

Another shitty day. Too many assholes at work, too many people on the bus, had to hang on a strap all the way home. The only upside is knowing she's waiting. I walk in and there's no lighting except a few discreet candles. You're on your knees, waiting, eyes downcast until I give permission to speak. You assumed the position when you got the text I was almost home. I walk past you to the closet and ditch my backpack and overcoat. Hang up my pants and jacket, and I get the oral lube. I don't hurry. You can wait.

I never gave you permission to move or speak, so you're still kneeling on a foam rubber pad, left hand in the air and outstretched with the leash to your collar. I walk back to you. "Open." You comply and I pour lube in your mouth until it dribbles down your chin and onto your breasts. This is part of the challenge. You must hold the lube in your mouth without spitting or swallowing. I take your leash and say "Present." You smear the lube dribbled down your chin onto the valley between your breasts and then cup them, pushing them together like a platform bra. You know what's coming next. Your nipples stiffen in anticipation and you flush across your face and chest.

Excerpt from ‘The Weekender’ [mf]

Let me tell you, the best ever was Billy Morrow during my first year of college. I was home for the weekend and so was he – we'd seen each other at the grocery store. I honestly don't know what it was about him, but at the time I just wanted to surrender everything to that boy. Sure, he was good looking, but I also felt so safe with him. I knew that if we did it, he wouldn't have told a soul. I was ready to hand over my virginity that night when he snuck into my room. But we both got too freaked out that my dad would walk in.

So, to mitigate the risk, he sat on the far side of my bed and reached a hand up under my covers. I obliged by pulling my panties down below my knees and hiking my shirt up over my chest. He couldn't see anything, but he had free reign otherwise. We figured if my dad walked in, we'd have at least a passing chance of not getting caught.

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Categorized as Erotica

Female friend asked for details about what I was going to do to her

"As I teased her, gently tracing her panty line through her jeans. As I moved to slide my hand inside, she allows me, breathing deeply, her lips twitching. Making a "V" with my fingers I massage the outside of her pussy, stopping and sliding slowly back up again when the base of my fingers have reach her clit, pausing to briefly press and grind against it. As her soft moans become short gasps, begging soundlessly for more, I begin to explore. This being a new pussy, one of have yet to discover, I take my time. My two fingers together, gently moving down, finding her clit, testing with a gentle circular rub to make sure it is indeed her clit, then continuing down, slowly with pressure to ensure that when I come across her wet tight swollen hole my fingers will enter as this is the only way I know to actually find myself inside the proper hole, and not her anus."

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Categorized as Erotica Tagged

Laura [mf] [historical] part 1. Xpost r/sexystories and r/eroticliterature

Nothing of note was happening. Laura traced the grain of the thick oak table beneath her fingertips, following it under heavy cream linen, and sighed as hard as she could without coughing. Her husband woke with a start, his napkin sliding down his chest and crumpling on his knee.

'She's the very wife of the devil, Lamb' spluttered Paul, hoping the new addition to his young wife's ladies in waiting was still the topic of her grumblings. There was always something wrong. Paul couldn't understand how a young, comely woman like Laura could find so much to complain about, with all her life stretched out before her. In the short time they'd been married he'd felt the pleasures of those soft thighs only once and she'd avoided his eye then, too.

Long gone were the days of Maria, his first wife. She'd welcomed him home from years bathing in the blood of the French with open arms, legs and everything else. The night he'd returned, aching and tired, she bathed his wounds and distracted him from the pain well. He'd left her a timid maid, barely speaking a word of English and had returned to a woman who spoke perfectly, in a warm Spanish purr. In the years since her death in childbirth he'd been alone until Laura was sent his way, rich in land but poor in title. Twenty two, a widow at twenty and apparently barren. Her father had practically begged him. She was a year older than his son.

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Categorized as Erotica Tagged

That time I never wanted to stop. Part Three: The night that didn’t end

It was hot and we were sticky. The air conditioning and exposed brickwork was doing nothing to cool our bodies in those moments. The shower was all encompassing and inviting, with the dull red tiles rippling in as the water streamed down them. I was behind her, holding her arms tight to her sides with my grip on her wrists. My teeth and lips were being purposeful about her neck and lobes, and the very nature of having her at my whim was casually bringing my cock back to the start. I took a moment to gather her hands behind her back with one of mine, and pressed firmly, forcing her to nestle the side of her cheek to the fresh tiling. And now, with the water beading and running from the small of her back, I teased into her warm pussy; short, shallow thrusts followed by a deep one, nice and slow.

I’m a complete tease at heart. If I could do it all day I probably would; I was torn between reeling myself back in after our initial lust and at the same time just wanting to fuck for every minute of the night. I pulled out and spun her round, drawing her in close to feel her breasts up against my chest. We kissed under the drenching. I allowed her to touch and play with what she wanted.

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Categorized as Erotica Tagged

That time I never wanted to stop. Part Two: The Hoxton

So I was at Stanstead airport, leaning casually on the the arrivals’ railings with a cardboard S’fucks (scalding the already over-roasted blend), feeling an apprehensive pang in my stomach. Yeah, I wasn’t casual at all. Everyone fucking knew what I was doing – there’s no way you can hide that. The facial reactions always give it away. You can always tell the “nervous to meet because it’s a fuck liaison” in any situation: restaurants, cafés, bars, buses…libraries…you get the picture; body language is a whole other post. Yet, this time really was different; it wasn’t just some booty call – I really wanted to know this girl.

Finding someone with which small talk doesn’t ever exist

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Categorized as Erotica

That time I never wanted to stop. Part One: Voice Memo

There’s always someone with which you share your most erotic and fiendishly sensual moments. Someone that your experiences with go beyond one telling. Someone that defies all reasonable and sensible thought because you just have to have that final, lingering, kiss. C was my “someone”.

We’d met by random chance. I was struck down, immediately, by her smile, her laugh, her flowing brunette locks – how could I possibly look away, even for a second, from those effervescent irises… And then, fuck…then she would speak. Her softly accented tone making my name sound fresh and new, like no one had ever articulated it properly before; making it her own and me more hers with every, single, syllable. I was utterly sold.

Published
Categorized as Erotica