[fantasy] Help end this story about my neighbor [f]

So I have this neighbor and she's so damn sexy. She has small perky breasts and dirty blonde hair and is just petite and tight. I see her swimming and I just have to relieve myself of my sexual frustration.

What I want is to make her mine and make her come. I want to pin her down and tear off her clothes. I want to taste her tongue in my mouth and to nibble her neck. I want to trace down to her succulent tits and suck them till she squirms. I want her. So I trace down and kiss her thighs. I can smell her juices from here. I start to flick her clit with my tongue and she screams. I tell her to shut the fuck up because now, she's mine. My tongue licks up all of her sweet juices and her pussy is just so warm. I can't take it. I start rubbing her clit and shove a finger up there. I pull it out and it's covered in her juices. I lick it all off and flip her over and start fucking her on her knees. She can't take it. I take it nice and slow and she screams out in torture. She just wants to cum. I push her down and start licking her asshole. It's wonderful. I spit in and stick a finger in there. She's loose. So I shove my dick up there and pound her hard. I pull out and start fucking her mouth. I pull and out and tell her to spit on her pussy. she does. it's time to begin

Voluptuous Indian Cousin Blackmail (Chapter 2) [MF][blkmail]

In actual fact, Arun had got several text messages and together they painted the picture of what Narinda had done. All that Arun needed was a bank statement (no doubt somewhere in her private files in her house) to have the missing piece of evidence he would need for a "good and proper blackmailing".

He needed to get access to Narindra's home again and have a good rummage around. That was the next step…

Luckily he got his chance that weekend when Narindra's older sister was over from America. It was Narindras older sister with the big tits, who had the distracting penchant for not wearing a bra under her nightshirt, VERY distracting seeing those "pokies" over breakfast let me tell you…. Anyway, this meant that his uncles house was full so Narindra kindly offered to let Aruns' family stay at her house.

Heather and Michael Part One

During my first sexual experience, I was not touched, even kissed.

I found them on Craigslist. My friends and I would browse the Casual Encounters Personals–and the even more amusing Missed Connections–for entertainment, and I kept the pastime when away from my friends.

Under “mw4w”, I found them, seeking a young girl to watch us. Teen but legal or young looking up to 21. I was sixteen, and wanted to know about sex. I wanted to fill the gaps in the sexual education I should have received from my pious parents and their parochial surrogates at school but had instead received from my rebellious older sisters. This, it seemed, was the most dangerous way to go about it, and real, palpable, with the flaws, the scuffle, the messiness and imperfections I was certain were missing from the pornographic films ubiquitous on the internet.

Voluptuous Indian Cousin Blackmail (Chapter 1) [MF]

sorry, forgot additional tags, cannot edit title so posting here:

[anal] [blkmail] [huml] [mast] [oral] [reluc]


Arun had a cousin that he lusted after. She would be in his fantasies quite a bit. He would always imagine doing things in a rough way with her. Not quite raping her, but having her engage in unwilling sex with an element of blackmail in it. It really turned him on to think of grabbing a handful of her lovely thick hair with one hand and stuffing his think, throbbing shaft in her wet, unwilling mouth in the other.

"Uhhh, uh, ugrrghhh Narindra… fucking bitch… I'm gonna cum on your pretty face you dirty slut!" he would groan.

"Urhhhhghh you… fuckkkkkking… biiittttcccchhhhhh!!" he moaned as he unloaded fresh hot cum onto his hand while thinking about her.

Then one day – he got his chance and fantasy became reality!

Tales of Lust and Magic Extra: Learning a Lesson [MF][FemDom][Oral][Fantasy]

That same night, Farroh had an encounter of his own. After storming off from Getin and the alluring, but despicable whore, he found himself in the Mash Tun. This pub was the antithesis of the one he’d left but it was no matter. Farroh wasn’t looking for company or atmosphere.

He was just looking to get drunk and he succeeded after a short time. He became such a stumbling, aggravated mess the landlady was forced to kick him out. He stumbled home and found the house dark.

“Probably still with that bitch,” he mumbled as he opened the door. A more sober Farroh would have probably noticed the figure sitting in the corner. Unfortunately, drunk Farroh wasn’t aware of much past his own nose. He stumbled towards his bedroom. His shoulder smacked against the door frame and sent him spinning to the floor.

After a few moments he realized he was staring at was the ceiling. As he waited for the room to cease spinning, he decided sleeping on the floor was as good as anywhere.

“We’re Not Role-Playing”, Part One [MF, BDSM, Control, Intellectual, Foreplay, Oral, Anal]

"We're Not Role-Playing": A Story About 'Submission' Told in Two Parts

Author's Note:

I'll keep this brief. What follows is the story of a Man and a Woman* and their . It is as simple as that. Inspiration is credited to the lovely Bosslady24 and the gorgeous pictures on her account. Find her in the comments below if you'd like to see what I imagined when I wrote the character of the Woman.*

"We're Not Roleplaying" will be told in two parts. PM's regarding suggestions for *Part Two are always welcome and if I like your idea, I'll credit you for it in Part Two. Thanks for reading!*

PROLOGUE: The Light-Switch, .i

"Do you see the light-switch? Over by the mini-fridge." The Man pointed to the patch of wall-paper next to the hotel-room's TV. The Woman nodded, knowing silence would better express her submission than her words ever could.

The Man sat in the sofa-chair, holding a glass of Gin on the arm-chair and caressing the Woman's head, which rested against knee, with his free hand. Once or twice, the Man's large wedding-ring had caught in her hair, pulling it, but the Woman didn't mind much. She was curled-up around the Man's dress-shoes, arms around his ankles, legs spread out on the carpet.

very_existential.txt

That Sokolow woman wears the lipstick and dress and shoes. She is obvious. She’s satisfied she has not revealed any fundamental truths but you will nonetheless make a series of decisions based upon them. You are a witness to your own chain reaction possessed by a false sense of doership, where own is the illusion perpetuated by the body that is actively participating in the creation of reality that you are experiencing, and the Sokolow woman is like this too. Like an imperfect real thing of a shared fantasy just like religious apocalypse. Winter rounds out a personality. The tropics make you top heavy like a faggy palm. How to separate sexual preference from fetish and what constitutes the difference? Here we are in the unnecessary intensity of female to female exchange, like women are the charged particles of a future event drawn to one another by a quantum song. She goes to work, she walks on high shoes and puts out her hand to stop from running into you in the hallway. She is warm-handed and leans on your shoulder with intentional gentleness. Her hair comes across her face and she brushes it away as she straightens and apologizes with a very sweet way of smiling. “It’s okay, here, can I help you?” You are very sweet yourself. You have been doing these things like precious stones, collecting. She leaves an opening and your eyes are less shy to one another’s each time. The silent goodbye is charged, the silence betrays the distraction at the center. You are at a party. You have had something to drink. You see her in the kitchen getting a drink. She looks at you with sharp familiarity composed into an innocuous smile. You are friendly to each other and she asks what you are drinking. You ask each other’s names because you realize you don’t know them. Hers is soft. She says your name immediately and asks to make the next drink. You laugh and are very calm, a walking rhythm that tames the observer. She is buzzing with your closeness and you let your hands touch when you take the glass from her. You can feel her energy flow into yours and make a burning vibration inside your brain and body. You feel in total possession of yourself in physical space because your body is inflamed with this thing. You pay attention and relax into oncoming waves. You are feminine to her and she is feminine back. You are making conversation that is unusually brief and comprehended. You try the drink and you like it. You are both wearing dresses. You are wearing boots and she is wearing high heels. You are leaning on the island next to each other looking out at the people in the uneven living room where there is music and a sexual bass throb. Your arms sometimes touch. You lean across the counter to reach a bottle of liquor. She doesn’t move out of the way. Her dress is low and her skin is hot when it presses your bare shoulder. You look over your shoulder at her and she is not smiling anymore. You inhale as you kiss. You kiss with sexual intensity. She is touching with abandoned purpose. You are held by the utter blending of your selves as you pull and are pulled and push your mouths into a new shared fantasy. You draw her into a bedroom bathroom and your desperate fucking is quiet and deafening, little whimpers muffled in each other’s necks. You are girls worshipping girl. You love the smell of her soft brown hair and the fact that she is a stranger to you. You feel her climax and are magnetized when you look in her wet eyes and there is still burning there. You look down at her dress and kiss her skin like a veil. You are trapped in this shitty scene reflecting on the hopelessness of identification with the body, the thought that eats itself. She is weak-kneed and puts a wet tongue on your neck and in your mouth and pulls at your hair in a particular way. You look and are looked at in the eyes without sentimentality. There is no attachment. You take her hand and lead her out to the loudest place and dance. She is dancing with the looseness of someone currently experiencing ecstasy. She puts hands all over you and herself and you are like twins untwisted. Allow sexual transportation. Starborn. Sunbourne. Evil Speaking. Like watching a movie so many times it becomes unfamiliar again.

The Safe Word (Light BDSM)

I love reading the stories posted here, so I thought I'd contribute. Let me know what you think!

The Safe Word (Light BDSM)

Raina had driven from her dorm to this unfamiliar part of town because she wanted to try something new, and as she stepped out of her car, she reminded herself again that even though the whole weekend was blocked out for this “adventure,” it was all her idea and she could back out at any time.

“Just say the ‘safe word’ and everything ends,” she repeated to herself.

For as long as she had even known about sex, the shy, pretty coed had had shameful sexual fantasies. Alone in her room late at night, she dreamed of a faceless man taking total control of her, bringing out her hidden desires, tying her up, “forcing” her to do all the nasty, naughty things she knew she would love… but she was a nice girl, with nice friends and a nice family, so she was embarrassed to tell anyone about her secret desires. No one on earth knew how badly she needed to get fucked hard and dirty, how her pussy dripped when she even thought of a strong man taking control of her… But she decided on her 22nd birthday that the time had come to see what would happen if she actually lived out her secret desires. She was brave a few minutes ago, safe in her car, but now, as she closed the door behind her and made her way down the dark street, she was wondering if this had been such a good idea.

Fantasy Is More than Black and White (M/F – preview)

Here's the first part of my new story! I'd love to know what you think.

Fantasy is More than Black and White A Wedding Fantasia

Most straight guys would have considered dating a hot bisexual girl a fantasy — even if it only lasted a week and she never did get around to inviting one of her girlfriends in for the porn-requisite threesome.

Unlike most straight guys, it hadn’t ever occurred to Trey to fantasize about any of that. Besides, it had been years ago.

But when that hot bisexual ended up marrying Trey’s sister Dianne… Well, that wasn’t the stuff of fantasy at all.

Trey didn’t mind that his sister was marrying a woman. He was happy to serve as her best man. Ecstatic.

No.

What was throwing Trey for a loop through the whole ceremony wasn’t that Dianne, who’d come out to him when she was twelve, was marrying another woman. It was that she was marrying Lara. Lara Jefferson. Who had slept with everything that moved during college, and after. Including — for one very, very weird week — Trey.

Beginning scene of a fantasy erotica series I’ve been working on, would love feedback! [m/f]

Getin leaned his broom against the wooden barn wall and wiped the sweat from his brow. His messy brown hair was dripping wet and damp patches were quickly forming on the waist of his tan trousers. In the middle of the day the barn felt more like an oven and the sickly sweet smell of hay was overpowering. Though he tried to get all his indoor work done in the early morning, he found himself stuck sweeping up the mess left by the king’s guards once again.

He grabbed his threadbare shirt off the gate and wiped down his naturally muscular body. Working as a stable boy for most of his life never allowed for much accumulation of fat. Even though he’d had his left arm amputated above the elbow when he was young, Getin’s body had only ever known the hardships of manual labour. He felt a light breeze on his cooling skin and turned to check on the animals grazing in the fields beyond. The cattle were all snoozing quietly under the shade of a few trees and all seemed well. He turned his gaze to the town beyond and tried to make out individual buildings through the haze of the day. He was concentrating so much he didn’t hear the approach of two people behind him.