NSFW story — Page 8988 of 11466 — collection of stories you shouldn't read at work

[FM] First FemDom experience was the best sex we ever had

This happened yesterday, I posted this on another subreddit but discovered this one and thought some of you may like to hear this.

It’s been a few days since we’ve fucked, and I’ve been really horny. We were watching tv when he came over and started kissing me and rubbing on me. He was horny and desperate for me, so I kissed him and pushed his head to the side. I kissed all the way down to his waist, and then his lips again as a quick tease. I took a picture of him. Then I went back down and started blowing him.

I was switching between deep throating him and sucking on the tip of his cock. He moaned as I took all of him down my throat, feeling his balls against my lips. After a few minutes, I took my pants off and got on top of him, sinking his cock inside of me. I had been wanting this for days now. Read more »

[MF] Waiting.

It had been a few months since I’d last hooked up with my friend with benefits, Chloe. We lived quite a few hours from each other, and we weren’t compatible enough to date, so we resolved to keep things sexual; convenient and easy. It didn’t always work out that way, but for the most part things had settled into a reliable rhythm. We would dirty text, have phone sex when possible, and generally just treated each other like decent friends.

When I returned to the city, summer had slipped into fall, the evening air turning cooler, warm blankets of dusk coming earlier in the day, so that by the time I hit the city outskirts everything had a pleasing ambience to it, an inviting orange glow. Usually, I would meet up with Chloe for lunch or dinner and spend her free nights out, before retreating back to her apartment. However, a few days of texting had changed the routine.

*And what if you came in and I wasn’t wearing anything at all?*

*Just on your knees, ready?*

*Yes. I’d leave the door unlocked and be there, waiting for you.* Read more »

The Unexpected Freak, Part 2 [MF]

“Mmmm,” she started, lifting her face from the couch cushions, “that’s amazing.” As my cock went limp and started to fall out of her pussy, she tried to turn over onto her back while remaining under me. It didn’t quite go as planned, and I spilled off the edge of the couch onto the floor, ending up on my back. I was unhurt, and we were laughing. “I’m sorry!” she laughed, “but stay there.” She slid off of the couch and onto the floor, on all floors with her hands and knees on either side of my legs. “I want more.”

“You want…” I started to repeat, but she leaned down and licked up the length of my cock, which was resting on my stomach. My whole body trembled.

“But first I need to get you hard again.” With one hand she gently rubbed my limp dick with just her fingertips, tracing up and down the shaft, sometimes with all of her fingers, sometimes with just one. Meanwhile, she licked and sucked on my balls, moving from one to the other, gently taking it into her mouth and bathing it in her saliva before letting it slide out. I shuddered through deep breaths. It felt like an eternity, but really was probably just a few minutes, but she had my aching cock hard again. “Ready yet?” she teased. Read more »

The Professor, Part 6

She had managed to avoid the conversation of “what are we?” when she was at the Professors house by fucking his brains out all night before quietly slipping out in the morning. She left his house and went straight to her class—it was a three hour lecture in her major and important for her to be there, especially since it was her last semester. Her professor was an older gentleman, in his late 50s, lots of curly gray hair, always wore nice jeans, a collared dress shirt and a sweater vest over the top. He smelled nice, had a nice smile, and was clean shaven, with tortoise shell glasses either hanging on the neck line of his vest or just at the tip of his nose. He showed interest in what the college students did—an effort to stay young or perhaps he was just a genuinely curious guy. He wore a gold wedding band on his ring finger and often spoke of his children, whom were grown. She sat in her seat in the back, desperately trying not to nod off from her night of passion with her Professor-turned-lover, and just as she was dozing off her phone vibrated in her bag. She bent over and unlocked her phone. He messaged her. She opened it, notifying him that she’d read the message. Read more »

The Professor, Part 6

She had managed to avoid the conversation of “what are we?” when she was at the Professors house by fucking his brains out all night before quietly slipping out in the morning. She left his house and went straight to her class—it was a three hour lecture in her major and important for her to be there, especially since it was her last semester. Her professor was an older gentleman, in his late 50s, lots of curly gray hair, always wore nice jeans, a collared dress shirt and a sweater vest over the top. He smelled nice, had a nice smile, and was clean shaven, with tortoise shell glasses either hanging on the neck line of his vest or just at the tip of his nose. He showed interest in what the college students did—an effort to stay young or perhaps he was just a genuinely curious guy. He wore a gold wedding band on his ring finger and often spoke of his children, whom were grown. She sat in her seat in the back, desperately trying not to nod off from her night of passion with her Professor-turned-lover, and just as she was dozing off her phone vibrated in her bag. She bent over and unlocked her phone. He messaged her. She opened it, notifying him that she’d read the message. Read more »

Mf The Roof

As we walk into the restaurant we agreed on, it feels strange. This is as close to a date as we have had. We get seated and review the menu.Christmas has come with getting to be more open with you. We order and spend too much time talking so that the food chills before it is eaten. All the while, hands stroke hands and arms. Occasionally a tear is wiped away. There is a lot of weight with us.

You excuse yourself from the table and the waitress comes over. “How long have you been together?” I have no idea how to answer that question. “Not long,” I reply. The bill is paid when you get back and we decide to go to our place. It feels like our place. In this city where I feel an outsider, only one place frames your beauty adequately, a roof.

It’s not far from here to there and outside the restaurant, I kiss you deeply. The need and hunger in me is met equally with yours. My hand travels down your arm. I kiss you again, my teeth clamping onto your lip. I feel your body sag just a tad as you sigh. The kissing and touching, simply an amuse bouche to a entree I crave, but cannot be served today. I start the car and your hand finds my leg. I smile at how naturally touches come. Read more »