Showing you to the public

By now, of course, I’m completely addicted to you. You seduced me weeks ago after you started interning at my office, and although at first I was wracked with guilt at the thought of my loving wife and children discovering my secret side-slut, I’ve come to see that you have no interest in that side of my life…you just WANT to be the wanton object of all of my lust and depravity. The perfect epitome of what I need to get the release of the dark, animalistic desires inside my screaming brain. Knowing that you won’t expose me, I search for outlets that would rekindle that sense of danger that heightens the pleasure.

And so I’d long wanted to make this fantasy a reality…and I knew that you, being the freaky little fucktoy that you are, would be up for it. I called you on the burner phones we kept just for our illicit affair and left a message.

Asian wife finally enjoying her husband’s fantasy league.

We all want Elaine. Elaine is a gorgeous woman; she has a stunningly sexy body, a beautiful face, and a fun, outgoing personality. Elaine also has a husband.

We are all friends with her husband. It’s a pretty open secret that we all want Elaine. It has led to some good-natured ribbing whenever we are all together like on the golf course or at the bars on guys’ night. To his credit, Elaine’s husband never seems to be bothered whenever her name comes up in conversation. To our credit, though, we never get too graphic about our thoughts about Elaine.

I have a special affinity for Elaine. First, she’s Filipino, and I love Asian women. Asian women seem to always have petite bodies and smooth, sexy skin. Second, she has the most amazing pair of legs you will ever see and a firm ass, and I am a legs and ass man. We all look forward to any party at their house when we know Elaine will be around. She always wears short shorts or skirts and strappy heels or wedges, and I never fail to sneak glances at her sexy toned legs. There have been many times where I’ve barely made it through the door before I had to take my cock out and relieve the tension caused by a night of fantasizing about her amazing legs.

My wife [F] told me her hottest fantasy, and it was watching me [M] get gangbanged by a group of 6 or 7 men [Group]

I guess it started while were getting high one night and talking about sex. We were describing past experiences and stuff. We were both pretty turned on. My wife told me about a girl she had a crush on while they were students, and described in erotic detail what they did to each other one night after a party.

Then she asks if I’ve ever had any same sex experiences, like before we met. So I tell her about the two occasions in my life when, despite being straight, I let myself get seduced by a gay man – two men, actually, with about 5 years between them – and ending up giving a really good blowjob. My wife got even more turned on and kept asking for more details, like describing the way I sucked them off, and telling her how much I enjoyed it.

So by now, she’s stroking my erect cock while I’m rubbing her wet pussy, and in a breathy voice she asks if I wanna hear this incredibly obscene fantasy she’s started having. Of course I wanna hear it, I say. Ok, she says, hesitating a little, with a shy little smile. I start circling my middle finger more insistently around her clit, and she whispers her fantasy to me.

I get Val to let her inner goth back out [M] [F]

I’ve been telling you about my continuing adventures with my wife “Valerie.” Presently, I have come home to her every day, but today’s memory comes from the day we packed up her tiny apartment’s contents and moved them into a place big enough for everyone.

It had been an amazing year for me. Not only was work going great and my kids were living with me, but I had Val. We had come to a very important place in our lives. While we were still uneasy with the idea of being married again, we knew we wanted all of us to be together. So, it was decided that her and her son would join me and mine.

When it was time to do the heavy lifting, everyone pitched in and in no time at all our house was full of love… and boxes of shit everywhere.

(28f) Matched on Tinder. Met. Fucked. Deleted Tinder. All in six hours. [FM]

I’ve never been much of a fan of Tinder. It’s just a little bit *too* ‘instant gratification’ for my particular tastes. It tries to boil everything down to the most basic level – see a face you like, swipe (even in itself the most basic function a phone can do) say hello, arrange to meet; job done. Don’t get me wrong I can see why this stripped down approach would absolutely appeal to some but, personally, for me, it takes all of the – for want of a better word – ‘game’ out of it.

In its simplest terms, I’ve always felt that a date or a meet up or, hell, even a hookup, should be *earned*. There’s a satisfaction to be found in actually getting to that point and it’s a satisfaction that something like Tinder entirely strips away.

But, all this said, Covid and lockdown has rendered more traditional methods of meeting people an impossibility and, frankly, I’d gone without some lustful interaction for far longer than I felt was healthy. And so, pushing aside my reticence, I swallowed my pride and re-downloaded Tinder for the first time in years.

Wedding Daze – The Beginning [Mother /Son Incest]

**Too long a story. Had to break this one in half!**

Exhausted, dirty and dripping with sweat, Jeffery Edwards came shambling back into the house that morning.

Summer had descended and temperatures were on the rise outside, meaning the sensible people were sticking to the comforts of air conditioning. Jeff would have loved it if he could do that too, but he had been assigned the chore of keeping the lawn mowed and so he had no choice. It was work best done early to avoid as much of the heat as possible, but it still left him overheated by the time he finished his work.

Sitting at the kitchen table where she had been dealing with the bills, Donna looked up at her disheveled son with some sympathy.

“All finished?”

Breathing hard, he could only answer with a weary nod, wiping his brow.

“Thank you, honey. You can go and get cleaned up in a moment. For the time being, why don’t you go and sit down for a little while, okay? It’ll give you a chance to cool down and catch your breath. I’ll bring you a glass of ice water in just a moment when I get done paying the bills.”

{MF] [cheating] [mast] [oral] [phone-sex] SARAH – A woman has phone sex with her husband. He doesn’t know that she’s fucking her lover at the same time and everything she says is in fact directed to the lover.

**You can view full the illustrated version of SARAH at** [https://eroticprose.com/](https://eroticprose.com/)

The greatest thing about my lover, Joe, is his cock. I just love it. It’s so fat and hard and muscular, I love holding it, I love stroking it, I love kissing it, I love sucking it, I love feeling it between my tits, I love feeling it filling my arse-hole, I love feeling it filling my pussy.

I’m 26, with long straight brown hair, and brown eyes. People have always called me pretty, and I’m in fairly good shape thanks to horse-riding. I’m 5’4″ and weigh 8 stone.

So I’m lying on my bed with Joe one sunny Saturday afternoon relaxing with a joint after a nice fuck (me on top) when the phone rings. I screen the call, and when I hear it is my husband, who’s in Birmingham on a business trip, I say to Joe, “Let’s have us some fun with the idiot. Don’t you dare make a sound.”

Vinitus – Chapter Two [high-fantasy][magic][blowjob][slow-start]

[Chapter One](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jqtfxo/vinitus_chapter_one/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)

“So, literally everybody? The nobles, the ordinary folk…. even the witches?”

Cale and Piadrian walked side by side up the wide, curving, main passageway. It was slow going with Piadrian holding onto Cale’s upper arm for support; he carried a cane in his other hand that looked like a smaller version of the staves the witches outside carried. He never put his weight on the cane, and took care not to let it knock against anything.

“If they ask you to.” Piadrian nodded. “We are servants here, Cale. It would be foolish of you to think this grants you any authority over Vinitus’ citizens.”

“So, I’m a slave then?” Cale wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d enslaved people before. Warriors, artisans, healers; even a particularly witty priest. Short of the priest—who’d he’d taken great pleasure in tempting with the kind of debauchery only the heir to Arnax could provide—he wouldn’t wish for any of their lives. Most were dead now.

“A servant is not a slave.” Piadrian’s grip on Cale’s arm tightened beyond what Cale thought the old man capable of. “You’re in this city to serve two purposes, but just as those purposes do not give you power over anybody else, nor do they give anybody else power over you.”

Charlie Cain (pt 1)

The sweltering, wet summer air on Bourbon Street always hit Charlie like a kiss. The thrum of energy that pulsed at all hours stoked his smoldering excitement. For the first time tonight, he was opening here in the center of the musical universe. Charlie had practically run out of the building after the final rehearsal to get a taste of New Orleans before the night began.
Maudlin was the latest of Charlie’s bands. They had been together for two years now, and were stronger for having left New York City. For two months, they had been playing minor shows in the Big Easy, trying to get a break in any of the major clubs, or at least raise enough money to rent a warehouse where they could host concerts. Charlie had been experimenting with music for years, but somehow, Maudlin felt right. He had finally gathered the right group of people.
Unfortunately, Charlie had no one to share it all with. Most of the time that didn’t bother him; he was strong and independent. None of his friends had ever heard him pine for a woman. Any woman, let alone someone in particular. But still, after his last girlfriend had left him, stating that she would never move to New Orleans and leave her life behind for the sake of his band, Charlie wished he had someone to talk to. Someone to hold close to him while he slept. He had really believed Liza would move with him; he even had a ring for her if she agreed, but he’d never had the chance to propose. She had promptly shut him down, and not two weeks after he left, an old friend told him she was dating a drummer from a rival band.
Shaking his head slightly, Charlie looked out into the night. His brilliant blue eyes glittered with anticipation. Looking up at the sky, he smirked. Darkness hung over the city like a shroud. The stars seemed to gleam with almost desperate effort to pierce the palpable gloom. The people rushing by Charlie’s stationary form seemed unaware. This shimmering jewel of a city was a secret within a secret, helpless in the grasp of some ancient hunger.
Charlie laughed, “There I go again. I’ll write that on the list of things never to say out loud.”
And there was a list. A long one. Not that he really gave much thought to how people saw him, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to express certain things because it made him almost violently upset that so many people were blind to the world around them. Things that were so obvious to him would sound insane to the average person. Generally, humans were sheep. Americans especially. Gullible and fat. Obsessed with themselves. Charlie was anything but average, an observation that wasn’t self-absorbed in the slightest. His extraordinary nature was just a matter of fact, and humility simply played no role. He wasn’t a narcissist, he had just realized over time that he was different. Different and… superior. The part that separated him from the fascists in history who had also claimed to be superior was that Charlie kept this knowledge to himself, and he didn’t force it on anyone. The world could go on believing in itself, clinging to its mindless rhetoric and routine and he would remain on the sidelines existing on a different plane.
A ripple of blond hair caught Charlie’s eye and he turned, hands still in his pockets. In front of a bustling little bistro on the corner was a gorgeous young woman with platinum tresses that reached her waist. She was smiling slightly, and Charlie would swear there was a look of recognition in her almost colorless eyes. Almost involuntarily, Charlie walked toward her, drawn by the sense that he should know this woman, even though he was positive he’d never met her in his life. When he reached her, he extended his hand.
“Charlie,” he said, trying to keep his deep voice as quiet as he could.
“Celene,” the woman replied, her hand surprisingly cool in his as she shook it.
Charlie’s eyes searched hers. Celene looked almost concerned.
“Are you alright?” Charlie asked.
Celene nodded, “Can we talk?”
Charlie’s lips curled in a dangerous smile, “If I go with you, there’s not some guy waiting around the corner with a gun is there?”
Celene blanched, “Gods no! I… I just…”
Charlie chuckled, “Relax, I was joking, lead on.” He looked around and then followed her into the shadows, pretending not to notice that her hair and eyes were almost luminescent even in the pitch dark.
When they were in a relatively secluded spot, Charlie leaned back against the brick of a building and looked at Celene. Her face was just barely visible in the moonlight that filtered into the alleyway they stood in, between two tall brick buildings that might have been apartments or offices. Celene’s features were soft and young and Charlie would have said she was no more than sixteen if she didn’t have such ancient eyes. Her eyes were filled with such a tumble of emotions that Charlie couldn’t tell what she was feeling at any given moment.
Tiring of the mystery, Charlie said, “Well, Celene, what is it you want to say? I go on in about two hours and I was hoping to enjoy myself.”
Celene sighed, “You’re not going to believe me, but I have to try.”
Charlie gritted his teeth, “What is this about? I mean, do I know you? I feel like I must have met you somewhere, but I honestly can’t remember. I’m about to do a huge show and I want to have some time to myself first. So if it’s not important, I’m going to go.”
Celene put her arm out; Charlie couldn’t tell if she was trying to stop him or indicate she meant no harm, “Please, Charlie, wait. No, you don’t know me. Although, you may have seen me recently, because I’ve been following you. You see, you’re in danger, and my… employer… wanted me to keep an eye on you.”
“Someone sent you to protect me?” Charlie asked incredulously.
“Uh…” Celene sounded like she was blushing. “No, not exactly. I’m sort of… Well, I’ve basically been spying on you. In fact, my orders were quite clear that I wasn’t to interfere. If you went to them willingly, I was supposed to let you go. My job was simply to get all of the information that I could. Listen to all your conversations, relay your intentions. The thing is, I have to stop you. I can’t bear the thought of someone like you being drawn into the darkness even more. You’re brilliant. There’s still hope for you.”
Charlie looked down his nose at Celene, “Celene, I have no idea what you’re talking about. All this babble like I’m at the center of some conspiracy. If it’s true that someone hired you to follow me, you can deliver this message, ‘FUCK OFF.’ Similarly, if I see you at one on my shows, I’ll have you thrown out. I haven’t come this far to let some pretty little girl stand in my way. Clear?”
Celene looked like she was about to cry, “Just promise me you won’t go to her.”
Charlie snorted, “Go to whom?”
“Antoinette. Queen of the Bayou,” Celene’s voice broke.
Charlie felt his head start to throb, “Celene, who are you?”
“I… I can’t tell you. They’ll probably kill me just for talking to you.”
Charlie shook his head in disbelief, “I don’t believe this is happening.” He started to walk away, “I hope you’ll be okay Celene. I sincerely hope no one hurts you for talking to me, but I have a show to do. Maybe you should go talk to the police.”

[MF] Don’t fuck my sister!

This event happened some 8 years ago now or so. I’ve dated a little too much over the years, so I’ve a tendency to forget some of my *escapades*. I recalled this one last night when I was chatting to a work colleague. A large portion of it is quite clear but I’ll be paraphrasing in parts.

A little about me: Irish, 6’1″, 175lbs, athletic, short fair hair and a well kept red beard.

In my early twenties I lived with one of my best mates and his girlfriend after I broke up with a crazy and toxic AF ex-GF. I’ll refer to them as Jack and Jill, as they don’t play much of a part in the story beyond some context.

Jill and I never really got along, but she loved my friend and so did I. So we did our best to be civil. Jill was, and still is to this day one of the most psychotic people I have ever met. Needless to say, I can be overprotective, thus our relationship was hit and miss.