It was the first time I’ve seen her wear a dress to work, and I was floored. She wore a cute black dress that perfectly captured her curves, a flowy skirt that stopped just above her knees, and open enough over the chest to showcase her ample cleavage. She mentioned a few times throughout the day how she hated wearing it and how she couldn’t wait to get out of it, but her actions told a different story. We were both wildly attracted to each other, and she knew I loved seeing her like this. Every chance she could while in conversation, she’d lean over letting her breasts push together, and smile at my distracted glances to them. She’d leave me with a wink and walk away with a distinct swing in her hips. It drove me crazy inside.
The Camgirl Part XXXVII: Asshole [FM] [Anal] [Oral] [Non-Con ish]
**XXXVII: Blake**
As the loud, pounding club music thrummed through Blake–she now knew that the music that had been playing for the past few songs was considered Deep House thanks to…a person who would remain unnamed even in her mind tonight–she remembered why she hated going to clubs. Ones that weren’t gay clubs, at least.
Bijoux was one of the nicer places in the city–she’d actually needed to use her fake to get in–but she had already been creeped on by far too many douchebags. That was basically what she was looking for tonight–someone hot and confident who would hopefully make her see stars–but she hoped to find one that was only *kind of* a douche.
Chloe and her friends Jenna and Nicole danced nearby, but each of them had found a dance partner already.
Blake didn’t let herself think about that, instead she just closed her eyes and let her body sway with the music. She’d never much understood dance as an art form, but thanks to—to someone who she would not think about tonight, Blake knew that it was likely just due to a lack of understanding, as her newfound musical tastes evidenced. She’d always found it impressive and pretty to watch most of the time, yet she didn’t get what made one dance better or more emotional than another unless the dancer was very clearly unskilled.
His First Time [M]MF… A Belated Christmas Present
A few days after James and I made Izzy’s [fantasy](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/dlp8rq/my_first_bi_mmf_threesome_a_very_merry_christmas/) come true, James invited Izzy and I to his house. His parents were, for our hometown, quite affluent due to their owning the local paint factory. As such, their house was one of the nicest in the town, and they had just made a major upgrade by building a pool house. James’s parents were not always thrilled with him having company at the house, but as long as we kept to ourselves in the pool house, they were content to allow it (they really were pretty nasty people).
James had set the place up nice, dim lights, good drinks and most importantly, good company. We were drinking, getting a little high and just having a grand time. After a while, James asked if we should migrate to the hot tub. It sounded amazing, but none of us knew that James’s parents would be there and therefore had not expected to be in the pool house and had not brought swimwear. Before I could finish relaying this to James, Izzy said “That’s a great idea,” and tore off her clothes and jumped naked into the tub, never one to miss out on a chance to take the lead. “Guess that settles that,” I said to James. He and I proceeded to get naked and joined Izzy in the tub.
[fm] ‘And it wasn’t even my birthday’ – by me
I was at a party the other day, big house, super expensive, really beautiful. (One of my parents’ friends turned 40) and I suddenly saw their daughter walking around there in a dark red dress, just above her knees the dress ended so three-quarters of her legs were visible. I thought she felt just like me, uncomfortable among all unknown adults, so I approached her and tried to start a conversation.
So I asked her if she was feeling uncomfortable as well, to which she replied
“Actually yes, but I’m trying to avoid people and just find a quiet place where I can play with my phone.”
I told her that I knew exactly the right place, and led her to a hallway in the house. I had been there for a while myself and knew that nobody would come by.
She thanked me and asked me if I wanted to sit next to her on the stairs. I said “sure” and wanted to sit next to her, but because she was pretty thick I had to sit a few steps higher. Since she had pretty big breasts, she showed that in that dress, and she was not wearing a bra, so I could look down her dress really well from where I was sitting.
Throbbing – can I do it again please?
Tension has been building all evening. Our eyes meet, legs touch now and then, a little appetizer of a kiss. We’re at a place where we both know that this is just the start. I invite you in, we kiss some more. A smile on our lips, yeah this feels good.
I feel you pressed against me, straining in your jeans. The rigid curve of beautiful man meat. My slut hums in my head. We like this. Hard cock is the best cock, especially when it’s mine for the evening.
Clothes are carelessly thrown on the floor as we stumble to the bed. Too greedy for a sleek striptease. As we move closer and skin touches skin my head quiets. Slut is taking over, less thinking, more feeling. Body over mind. Your hands roam my body and make me shiver in ecstasy. But Slut is greedy and wanton. She is needy and demanding, and she needs to feel you inside. I let my nose and lips lead me as I slowly make my way down from your neck to your chest, towards my goal. I groan at the hot smell of excitement on you. In the corner of my eye I see you; twitching, hard, velvet, brilliantly smooth and rugged at the same time. It’s a thing of beauty. Perfection in aggressive maleness and yet so vulnerable and soft as silk. My mouth waters. Damn I LOVE cock.
The Royal Elven Mistress [Femdom][Cuckold]
(This is a story I wrote with the intent to publish it but decided to share it with all of you for free instead! Enjoy!)
Ivy smirked as she pulled the second wrist restraint tight, making sure that her toy had both of his hands secured firmly behind his back. She did so enjoy her work. It was delightful the faces the king made when she stripped him down and began to bind his limbs together. The way he groaned softly in pleasure as her fingers traced along his limbs made her tingle. Her deeply tanned skin contrasted so nicely with his pale, sunless features. As her fingers traced down his spine, goosebumps were rising up on his arms and shoulders.
“Are you ready for another session, my king?” Ivy whispered into his ear.
“Yes, Mistress Ivy,” The king said, his excitement barely contained in his voice.
Her hand came down across his ass in a whip-crack of a spank. “What would your subjects think of you like this?”
He hissed between his teeth. “I imagine they would think lesser of me,” He admitted, his member already throbbing between his legs.
Breaking ethical norms for fun with an interviewee [MF]
For the last few years, I’ve been working with my local newspaper, covering random stories and events to grab a little side cash for entertainment and fun. It’s been a great time, easy, and I get to cover local sports a lot of the time. It’s a daily newspaper that publishes five times a week, so it’s pretty easy going. I’ve been doing it long enough that I usually get to pick where I go and what I cover, barring some breaking news that happens and they need all hands on deck.
Part of this has been consistent coverage of our D-III volleyball team that is in our area. Lucky for me, the sports reporter is more concerned about football, leaving this open for me to spend time getting to know players and coaches, covering games and, as the case was this weekend, travelling to a tournament.
I went down on Friday, covered their evening games that night and all day Saturday. I’ve known some players for several years, as they came up through local high schools, and on to this college. I’ve know the coach for a handful of years, and it’s seemed less and less like a job, and more of a conversation. Some athletes are friendlier than others, and I understand that. But that line was crossed and I found myself in ethical and moral trouble this weekend.
A [F]inal therapy session brings [M]e more than I bargained for. [Cheating/taboo]
Warning: this story involves cheating. If that’s not your thing and you are reading it just to tell me how much of a scumbag I am, I am sure there are plenty of other stories to read that will be more satisfying to you. This story also involves some “taboo” sex between a therapist and a client. Yes, I know it’s wrong and illegal. I also realize that if I were reading this, I would probably be the first to call bullshit, because this kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen. I can assure you that it does happen. It’s a memory I’ll carry with me.
****
One of the biggest reasons I became a therapist is because the job is never boring. This is a story about one of those times that things became more than just not boring – they became downright exciting. Part of me wishes this had never happened, since I’d be a lot less anxious and guilty, but it wouldn’t be completely honest if I didn’t admit there’s another part of me that thinks about it every single day since and smiles a bit.
I Found Panties That Aren’t Mine
A few weeks ago I came home from work a day early and found panties in my husband’s laundry that definitely weren’t mine. Since, I’ve been on a slutty downward spiral. At first I was sad, then mad, now I just venge-fuck. It’s all a long story [and it’s all here](https://sexualcompass.com/2019/10/10/not-my-yellow-panties/)
The latest was letting a stranger do ANYTHING he wanted to me…and then I went home and made my husband fuck me some me more. I’m still mad, fuck those stupid other girl’s ugly yellow panties.
I [30m] fucked the ginger high schooler [f] I met at Chipotle
Usually, the girls I see are ones I meet on tinder or reddit, but this is a big exception.
I go to chipotle on the way back from the gym quite a bit because it’s convenient, fast, and ‘healthy’ compared to other convenient and fast options. I started seeing this cute redhead there behind the register. Maybe 5’2, I’d be surprised if she was over 100 pounds. She has blue eyes, and this sort of smile that, no matter what she’s smiling about, makes you feel like you’re in on a naughty inside joke with her. So I began going a little more often just to run into her. On two separate occasions (like a month apart), she said, “I like your tattoos,” but I feel a little weird hitting on someone while they’re at work, so I said thanks and made some small talk before chowing down. Then this past March, I got the idea to, instead of ask for her number, to leave mine. I figure it’d be the least intrusive way to move things forward– no need to put her on the spot at work, I’d leave the ball entirely in her court and see if she’s interested that way. So that’s what I did, and the next day, I get a text.