collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
Hello again! My second ever erotic short story. The first one was also with the same theme: a maternal figure seducing, partly intentionally and partly by accident, a young, inexperienced man. I hope it’s easy and fluent reading, since English isn’t my native language. And if you also enjoy pornographic videos or are just otherwise interested in seeing me, you can check my videos on Pornhub with the same user name.
Mommy and the boys sleep over
It started with a bet. It was innocent enough. Loser has to be the winners slave and cant say no. We dated for a while and done plenty of kinky stuff but nothing like this.
Needless to say I lost so i was at his beck and call. He started simple. Blowjob with a facial (he knows I find that degrading). Took a pic of me covered in his cum with my own phone. I stuck my tongue out and made my breasts extra appealing. He called me a slut and I made him breakfast. Eggs and bacon. I sat under the table keeping his cock warm in my mouth, not really sucking him, just tasting him. He ordered me dressed in a skirt and tube top. We went for a walk in the park. Half way through he said he wanted to fuck. Middle of the park with tons of people around. I was shocked, I mean what if they called the police. He told me to bend over. I complied and he fucked me like a dog right in the middle of the park. It wasn’t long, maybe 30 seconds before I started orgasm. The humiliation was such a turn on. Exposed in front of so many people. He stopped after I came, told me i would be punished for not asking permission. We continued walking. Every person watching me as we walked by, all of them just watched me get fucked in on all fours. The embarrassment was almost too much. The women judging me. The men eye fucking me. The teenagers huddled around their phones and pointing.
**LONG POST ALERT**
I’m working on my first erotica novel (really my first long-form writing project since term papers) and I’m looking for feedback—constructive or otherwise!
I’m nearing the 100 page mark and for some reason I thought that would be a good milestone to go back and edit the totality of the rough work I have so far. As you might imagine, there’s A LOT of cringe in there, A LOT of purple prose, A LOT of thesaurus writing, but there’s also A LOT I’m extremely proud of and I think my concept is still strong even if some of my execution can’t stand on its own.
That’s where you guys come in! I need a competent editor(ial staff) to give me their unvarnished thoughts and most merciless criticisms to break me of my terrible habits. I am 100% in favor of compensating you (I can’t do it monetarily at the moment, but even though I’m not a Lannister I always pay my debts).
The major questions I have with the work are as follows:
Does it turn you on? Is it too much? Do the descriptions bore? Are you not (otherwise) entertained?
Even in my wildest fantasies, I’d never imagined this. The object of my desires for so many years was fucking me with his fingers at the bar of my high school reunion. My back was almost touching the wall and his body was shielding me from the rest of the people in the room.
“Here’s your wine and the scotch on the rocks for you.” The bartender smiled at us as he placed our drinks beside us and walked away.
Mr O’Neal pushed his finger deep inside of me, his palm rubbing against my clit. “We shouldn’t.. Ahh.. We shouldn’t.. Oh fuck.. Sir we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Fuck it’s a turn on when you call me sir.” He growled in my ear, he added a second finger, he was gently stretching me open with each pump, scissoring his fingers inside of me. “I know we shouldn’t, but I’ve wanted you, this, for so fucking long Luna.”
“Yoooo, Mr O’Neal, my man!” An older version of Thomas Sinclaire shouted from a few feet down the bar. He’d been Mr Popularity back in High School and it pissed me off that he wasn’t fat or balding. My ex-science teacher pulled his fingers from inside of me but I didn’t feel disappointed for long, the hand on my wrist replaced those fingers as he turned his body towards the bar to face Thomas.
It’s been a week and a half since the accident, and some stuff has happened:
-The doctors and the professor still has no clue why my skin color changed, or if the mixture is safe. Apparently it deteriorated before the professor could analyze it. I still have no bad side effects, though seeing auras and reading people’s sexuality, fetishes and deviancies maybe would qualify as bad, if I told them.
-When the cops searched the home of the pedo rapist we stopped, they found evidence that he’s done it before, he kept trophies, so they are talking about giving me and Emma some medal.
-Oh, and Emma is banging the teacher I found for her, she’s with him almost as often as I’m with Chris.
His massive cock has been in my ass at least once per day since we met, and I can’t get enough. It is almost like we are addicted to each other. Last weekend for instance, he went and visited his parents, so we fucked just once in the morning before he left. That night it was really hard falling asleep, my body was missing him so fucking much, and masturbating didn’t help, and he called me in the middle of the night because he felt the same.
Guess I should introduce myself. My name is Jacob, and I’m 33 years old. I’m married to the love of my life, Ella, who just turned 28. I’d always been fairly vanilla when it came to sex, up until about three years ago. Ever since becoming sexually active, I was aware of one particular kink that stuck with me: impregnation fantasies. Pretty much any variation of that drives me crazy, although for about ten years I *only* fantasized about impregnating my own girlfriend or wife.
Ella is also fairly vanilla, and seems happy with semi-rough sex, dirty talk, varying positions, and she indulges my impregnation fantasies both IRL and pretending (we have one child together as a result of our games). We are also on the cusp of trying anal, and she’s pretty much starting to ask me for it. She always tells me she’d “do anything to satisfy me sexually”. Sometimes I wonder what her version of “anything” means.
For the past year, I’ve been turned on to the idea of sharing her with another man. Sometimes after I’ve come down from this fantasy (after cumming of course), I wonder what in the fuck I’m even thinking. How could I ever share my wife with someone else!? But then it creeps back and gets me hard again!
I’d actually lost consciousness, what the fuck. I’d never been fucked to the point of blacking out before, he was still fucking me hard when I came to moments later but he’d lowered us to our knees and my bare chest pressed against the cold granite floor beneath me.
“There’s my good girl,” His voice was like a soft caress on my skin, it was a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. He still had my arms pinned to my back with my ass in the air. “Any longer and I’d have tanned this beautiful ass.”
“Mr O’Neal, please it’s too intense,” I could feel my eyes rolling into my head, I’d never felt an orgasm like this, that continued to roll and build even after crashing over me already, I never knew sex could be like this and it made me want to sob from the sheer pleasure of it all. “Please, it’s too much, I can’t take it.”
I honestly didn’t know if I was begging him to stop or if I was begging him to make me orgasm sooner. The pleasure that was building inside of me was threatening to melt me from the inside out, it was white hot ecstasy.
I notice we aren’t heading toward the midway and the deep fried goodness that lies within. “Where are we going? The food is that way.”
“Yeah, no, the GOOD food is this way. Last night of fair, big pot lucks and cookouts, best steak and pork chops around. Plus we are a few beers behind.”
“I don’t have anything to bring! I don’t know anyone, and I have green slobber all over my shirt!”
“You are a guest, MY guest, don’t worry about it. Plus those beers they have been drinking are the ones I dropped off earlier. Everyone else has shirts just as dirty and trust me you’ll know everyone by the end of the night.”
The end of the night? There went that tickle down in my gut, and as he walked ahead I caught myself admiring what I couldn’t see while sitting down. He was taller than me, and slender, the type of body made from being used for work. His shoulders were broad and his arms long, I wonder how they would feel around me? He wore a broken in but clean ball cap and I imagined tossing it off and tangling my fingers in his hair. His walk was confident and as I was admiring the way his jeans fit he turned back towards me. Oh shit, did he notice me staring? “You coming or what?”
Here is the 2nd of my 3 part mini-series documenting my sex life with a friends with benefits Natasha. I’m gla that the first part was positively received and I hope this part also is as sexy as the real thing! Any questions I will be more than happy to answer. Hope you enjoy ;)
When I left off, Natasha had left me in my accommodation building after our first fuck together. I expected to hear from her in the days after, I thought that her telling me to pretend it never happened or outright say she thought I was a creep for not stopping us before it escalated. I did not see her for roughly a week, texts I tried to send her where met with no replies and calls left unanswered. I tried to distract myself from her by working through school assignments and such, which helped very well. Soon I convinced myself that she will come around soon enough and hopefully forgive me, perhaps even still be friends with her even though she cheated on Craig with me. That all changed one morning.
Even in my wildest fantasies, I’d never imagined this. The object of my desires for so many years was fucking me with his fingers at the bar of my high school reunion. My back was almost touching the wall and his body was shielding me from the rest of the people in the room.
“Here’s your wine and the scotch on the rocks for you.” The bartender smiled at us as he placed our drinks beside us and walked away.
Mr O’Neal pushed his finger deep inside of me, his palm rubbing against my clit. “We shouldn’t.. Ahh.. We shouldn’t.. Oh fuck.. Sir we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Fuck it’s a turn on when you call me sir.” He growled in my ear, he added a second finger, he was gently stretching me open with each pump, scissoring his fingers inside of me. “I know we shouldn’t, but I’ve wanted you, this, for so fucking long Luna.”