She always loved the graveyard, she found it peaceful and inspiring, she found it the best place to really meditate on her life and goals, a bonus was that it was almost always deserted she could find a gravestone and settle into the cool grass and light her candles and just relax knowing that she wouldn’t get bothered by the usual idiots that made it their goal to taunt her daily.
Being a girl who was inspired by the dark side of life wasn’t easy in this town, but at least she felt like the spirits understood her and if they didn’t well, at least she felt a little creepier in her mundane life.
She usually wandered slowly amongst the stones waiting for one to feel right, she needed the energy to feel inviting, as she walked silently she thought she heard something in the bushes, which made her milky white skin tingle with fear, spinning around ready to give the creep a mouthful, she realised that the ‘creep’ was in fact a bird that was fighting with another bird over that spot to sleep in.
Continuing her walk she laughed at herself for getting frightened in this place that she spent most nights in alone, finally she found a headstone that made her feel comfortable, she got onto her knees and thanked the inhabitant of the grave for the seat she was about to take; placing her bag down next to her she set up her candles and incense in the grass around her.
Reading her Anne Rice novel she realised she was feeling aroused and alone, she took a sip from her bottle of wine and glanced at her watch, it wasn’t too late, she could stay a little longer, finding her spot on the page she carried on reading.
She awoke with a start, a feeling of being watched had roused her from her sleep, she looked at her watch and noticed she’d dozed off for about an hour or so, sitting up, she noticed a figure in the distance, standing, watching; feeling uncomfortable she started to pack her things away, as she did the figured slowly came towards her, he was wearing a mask she could see and a black robe, for a moment she wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming or not.
Feeling slightly more awake she knew she couldn’t allow this person to scare her away from her sacred space, ‘’Who are you and what do you want?’’ she called out hearing the quiver in her own voice, the figure continued to walk towards her and she realised he was wearing a goat’s head, this was like her dream, a man with a goat’s head that ravished her and left his mark upon her skin and her soul.
Tag: Fantasy
Finally getting to [m]eet my online mil[f] – Precursor
*Obligatory names changed disclaimer*
I met Rachel through an adult chat site, she noticed a common interest (pretty mundane, non-sexual interest) and messaged me about it. I looked at her profile and saw she was quite a bit older (46) than me (22), which I was thrilled about. I’ve always had a strong attraction to older women and much preferred chatting with them online. However, I’ve found them to be the hardest to actually find and get the attention of. So, initially I just assumed it would be a pretty brief conversation so didn’t get my hopes up too much.
We ended up speaking for a few hours that first day, in the beginning about our shared interest and other harmless chat, then more towards the reason we were both there. We decided to swap a few pics. At that point I was nervous, we were having a good talk but before seeing her pics I was expecting either someone I didn’t really find attractive, or to be sent a slew of fake pics. When I finally got her pics my excitement grew even more. She looked like an attractive mother nextdoor. First all her pics were pretty casual which was awesome. She had a beautiful face, thick figure that still looked fit. She definitely looked like a mother who would catch your eye, or mine at least. I sent some of me back and there seemed to be a mutual attraction.
The Spa – Part One [mf]
It was Thursday and the week so far had been unbearably long. The office was constantly busy at this time of year and work was piling up before my eyes. The strain had obviously started to show on my face too as I responded to yet another colleague asking if I felt alright. Although I’d force a smile and brush off their concern the truth was that I felt terrible, especially with the summer heat wave in full force.
“You need to get away my friend.” The cheerful voice shook me out of my daydream, and I turned to see Paul leaning casually in the doorway. I considered him my closest friend at work and we often went out for a drink in the evening.
“You noticed? This place is killing me.”
“Take a break then, go somewhere nice for the weekend.” Paul was always optimistic, a feature which I envied greatly.
“Yeah I wish. I’ve got loads of clients to see tomorrow and I’ll need to write those reports over the weekend.” It was true, I had been working almost non-stop for the last month. I sighed as my eyes fell on the pile of papers in front of me.
Euphoria and Regret Part 3 [M20/F20]
Links to [part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4dtmkl/euphoria_and_regret_part_1_m20_f20/) and [part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4dtoxm/euphoria_and_regret_part_2_m20f20/). This story I know is long, but hopefully you enjoy it. Concluded in part 4.
The ice storm raged around me as I began the long walk to my apartment. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my coat, trying to simultaneously analyze what had just taken place and forget it ever happened. My right hand felt my phone in my pants pocket as I cowered against the wind. The text message. The thing that had saved me from cheating on the kindest, most trusting person I had ever met. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. My fingers already felt half frozen, and my hands were shaking from the cold, but I could not wait to see who it was. I unlocked the screen and clicked on the message bubble icon.
“Looks like you were right. I guess I should have gone with you to the party. I’m tired and headed to bed now though. See you tomorrow…if you can navigate through all of the snow that is ;)”
Lending a helping hand to a friend [m/f]
So this is my first time posting here or writing about a sexual experience. This story seems longer and wordier than most of the stuff here, so if that’s not your thing you might want to skip this one.
I wrote it for the person involved and she suggested I post it here. Names changed of course.
I met Erica just about a year ago when I started my new job. Our company has a lot of young people and she was already friends with a bunch of people on my team. over the past year we became friends. Seeing each other outside of work in group settings and getting lunch with our other friends at work. She wasn’t really my type and according to her, I didn’t really seem like her’s either. couple that with the facts that we enjoyed just being friends and giving each other shit and we hung out with a lot of the same people, i never really gave any thought to trying to get with her. This isn’t to say she wasn’t hot though, she was. Athletic with dark brown eyes, long legs, and straight, dark brown hair, she had kind of a “girl next door look” but the kind of girl next door that most guys would be happy to get inside. Like i said though, we were friends and i don’t think either of us were interested in complicating things, so we fell into a normal routine.
My first attempt at writing anything ever: An untitled project [Fantasy] [Sadistic] [Futa] [Rape] [ff] [murder]
*NOTE BEFORE READING. This is the first time I’ve ever taken the time to write anything and I would love to see any constructive criticism. If this is well recieved I might make this a series. ALSO A SERIOUS WARNING. The following story contains hardcore rape, sadism, futanari, and murder. If this is not for you then I urge you not read it. Don’t judge me :(
Somebody has to cater to the crazies.*
THE STORY
“Please. Please. I need to eat something.” the woman wheezes to me naked and face stained with dried tears. She pulls lightly on the chains binding her hands trying to break free with the little strength she has left. Her lungs fill with the heavy, dusty air that she’s been familiarising herself with for the past few days. “I don’t even know what you want or even what you are?”
“You know, I’m not quite sure myself,” I say from the shadows watching as her head can barely keep itself up, “I’ve never really seen anyone of the same race. Nobody has. I’ve heard someone call me a lizard-girl once so I think I’ll stick with that.”
“Look, I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ve learnt it four days ago. I swear I will never get in your way again. I will even help you if you want.” She pleas.
I[f] fulfilled my college fantasy last night [mfmf]
Me and my boyfriend are both Juniors in college. This story took place last night and is 100% true. This is also my first time posting a story so let me know what you think about it after. Warning, it is a long read.
So for a while now my boyfriend and I have been dirty talking about sharing me with another guy. I’ve been feeling really slutty and horny the past few weeks and flirting with my boyfriend’s friends. For the past week we have been talking about one friend in particular- Erik, but never knew if this would ever happen, especially so quickly. I have classes with Erik everyday so for the past week I have been doing my makeup and wearing shirts that show off my tits. For a little description of me, I’m five foot tall 110 pounds with 32-Double D’s and a big bubble butt. On Wednesday Erik said he was having a party and I knew it was the perfect opportunity to be a slut and dress sexy. My boyfriend James agreed because we have been dating for over a year and a half and he wanted to see how slutty I could be for other guys.
I (M24) taught a couple(18F 19M) how to be kinky. Part 1: Coffee and Cream
This week I met up with a couple through a kinky website who were interested in learning how to have rough bdsm style sex. I’ve been in the lifestyle now for about 6 years and have taken the time to learn all I can about bdsm and all the types of plays you can do.
I met the couple (lets say their names are Lizzy and David) on fetlife about a couple of weeks. At first we talked just to get a better feel for each other and to see if there was that spark. I mostly talked to Lizzy who I found physically very attractive from her photos she posted on her profile. She’s 5’7″ with long black haired, a slim figure, pierced ears and nose, and a cute tight ass. After talking for a while we started to flirt and soon after that I invited her to meet up with me for coffee on Wednesday on campus.
Fulfilled a fantasy my boyfriend had. He pretended to be my roommate and walked in on me having sex [F/M] [F/M]
Description of me: I’m 25 years old with brown hair and green eyes. I’m 5’5” about 115 pounds. I have a nice butt (look at my post history for pics of it) and B cup boobs. I’ve always been told I’m “very cute.” I’ve gotten “sexy” and “pretty” more in the last couple of years it seems like.
I have been gone for awhile. Shockingly I’ve actually been dating someone named Kevin for a few months. He’s a tall handsome surfer looking guy. He started off as a friend with benefits. We’ve actually been having sex off and on for the last two years already. We slowly started becoming good friends and he makes me laugh a lot, so we started spending more time together. Anyone who has been following my stories knows I am not a commitment person and don’t really do relationships well, so this news might seem odd. The major reason this works is because we are on the same page sexually. He is one of my few fwb that I have ever truly opened up to about my desire for sexual variety (I guess. Don’t know how to put it). I found out he gets turned on at the thought of me having sex with other guys, so it sort of clicked that maybe something more serious could work with us because we are good friends and have a good time together while also being on the same page sexually.
[M/F] All grown up…
“The fact is,” Marisol was saying. “A big reason I came to this school is because I knew you were here…”
I laughed, swirling my coffee. “That means a lot to me.”
Autumn. The perfectly manicured East Coast campus was just starting to turn golden with the chilling weather. Marisol was eighteen, and a gorgeous little waif of a girl: wavy hair that naturally seemed to move between black and light brown; dark, quick eyes; and dusky skin. She wore a short skirt that showed off the goosebumps on her dark legs, and a thick, woven sweater.
I had tutored her as a kid: it was one of those *Freedom Writers*-type stories. I volunteered to teach creative writing at a mediocre inner city school, to a group of spectacular eleven-year-olds. The smartest, the funniest, and the most charming, though, had been Marisol–she practically had a novel written by the end of the year! At eleven!
I kept in touch with her and her family–not really even her family, but her grandmother, with whom I communicated in broken Spanish, with Marisol’s help–for a few years until I moved away. I went to graduate school, got married, lost my wife, and got a job teaching literature and writing at a major, prestigious university. A lot had changed.