In the bathroom at the bar [MF]

Thanks for positive feedback on my last/first post. Here’s another, quite different story. This happened two years back, and turned out shorter (it all happened in the space of a couple of hours).

I have an old friend that I studied with, who is pursuing a big-money career in London. Every time he visits back “home” inevitably means a night out with the old gang, those essentially being the only occasions I see anyone in that group. It’s nice to see them, but there’s a fine line between talking about what’s going on in your life and bragging, especially among guys In their 30s.

On this night, it was just the three closest of us meeting up at a kind of trendy bar, housed in a historic building, decorated in a vague old-timey, “Moulin Rouge” style. We got there quite early, but the place being tiny, we couldn’t find three seats together even though the place was only half full. On the corner of the low, angled bar, there were two girls seated, with two empty spots beside them, so we went there, me standing up and my friends sitting down. As my friend ordered the first round, I smilingly acknowledged the girls, one quite thin blonde, and the other a much cuter thick brunette. Meeting my glance, both their faces clearly spelled out that they were open for chatting up, but I was not there for partying.

Lost friends and a neighbor found [FM][Long]

If there was anything worse than losing a lover it was losing good friends, but staring at their old picture stuck to his wall Marc knew that was just what had happened. Their friendship that was never supposed to end decayed swiftly like sand running through his fingers, all just because Marc had lost his nerves and admitted feelings he knew he had best kept to himself.

It had been a fun run while it lasted, the first time Marc had ever felt he could trust people in a world were trust seemed synonymous with disaster. Oh well, he had always been better at burning bridges than building them. The part of him that had stopped believing in the world was glad his last ties to said world had been cut, the smaller part that still believed cried silently.

The playlist he had created just for days like this was perfect, full of songs no anti-depressant could ever attempt to counter. It did a fine job of making him feel twice as drunk as he was, even blurred out the ringing door bell to a degree. With a sigh he wondered if he could just ignore it, not feeling like talking to anyone but then the music made it clear he was home.

Lost friends and a neighbor found [FM][Long]

If there was anything worse than losing a lover it was losing good friends, but staring at their old picture stuck to his wall Marc knew that was just what had happened. Their friendship that was never supposed to end decayed swiftly like sand running through his fingers, all just because Marc had lost his nerves and admitted feelings he knew he had best kept to himself.

It had been a fun run while it lasted, the first time Marc had ever felt he could trust people in a world were trust seemed synonymous with disaster. Oh well, he had always been better at burning bridges than building them. The part of him that had stopped believing in the world was glad his last ties to said world had been cut, the smaller part that still believed cried silently.

The playlist he had created just for days like this was perfect, full of songs no anti-depressant could ever attempt to counter. It did a fine job of making him feel twice as drunk as he was, even blurred out the ringing door bell to a degree. With a sigh he wondered if he could just ignore it, not feeling like talking to anyone but then the music made it clear he was home.

Published
Categorized as Erotica Tagged

Lost friends and a neighbor found [FM][Long]

If there was anything worse than losing a lover it was losing good friends, but staring at their old picture stuck to his wall Marc knew that was just what had happened. Their friendship that was never supposed to end decayed swiftly like sand running through his fingers, all just because Marc had lost his nerves and admitted feelings he knew he had best kept to himself.

It had been a fun run while it lasted, the first time Marc had ever felt he could trust people in a world were trust seemed synonymous with disaster. Oh well, he had always been better at burning bridges than building them. The part of him that had stopped believing in the world was glad his last ties to said world had been cut, the smaller part that still believed cried silently.

The playlist he had created just for days like this was perfect, full of songs no anti-depressant could ever attempt to counter. It did a fine job of making him feel twice as drunk as he was, even blurred out the ringing door bell to a degree. With a sigh he wondered if he could just ignore it, not feeling like talking to anyone but then the music made it clear he was home.

An Unexpected Orgy [mmmmmmffffff] [bukkake] [orgy] [anal] [oral] [squirt] [ws] [swing]

My girlfriend owns a mattress store. I know — strange career choice. But with the advent of order online mattresses like Casper and Purple and Leesa, she was getting crushed. Just couldn’t compete. She decided to close up shop.

She ran a big flash sale – slashing prices 75%, but still, at the end of the sale, six mattresses remained.

“I’m going to donate them to charity,” she said. “But first, we should have a party in the store. Invite our friends. We could even have a sleepover. Watch some movies. It could be fun.”

We agreed and reached out to five of our couple friends to invite them to Emily’s going out of business sleepover party.

They all showed up. We ordered some pizzas. There was a lot of beer. We watched a movie on Netflix, all cuddled up in our respective beds. It was a pretty tame evening until someone giggled in the back and whispered, “Look.”

Tanya was giving her boyfriend a blowjob. I guess she figured because it was dark and their mattress was all the way in the back of store … nobody would notice? And maybe the sound of the movie would drown out the slurping and gagging sounds she was making? Or maybe she just didn’t care. He didn’t seem to care either.

[FM], [FM] Sandrine, the shy French girl, or The night I was king of the conference

This is a repost from another account that got shadowbanned for some inexplicable reason. If it gets love there’s more where this came from.

Also, this is just part 1, because the app is telling me I can’t post this many characters (did that change?).

I work in in a creative field as a consultant, and I’ve reached a fair amount of success, to where today, a couple years shy of 40 I make very good money, work on global projects and travel a lot. It’s a little hard to relate to for me, because all I do is just make stuff up, putting words on paper basically is it.

Demom’s Angels, parts 8-end. [slow] [F/m/f] [M/s/d] [inc] [reluc] [group] [fantastical] [satire]

Demom’s Angels

by DiscipleN

— 8 —

During the night, red curtains swirled across their mother’s dreams. They were a veil resisting her questions. She wanted to call the demon’s name but couldn’t remember it. A couple times, she heard her husband say, “I’ve missed you. I’ve suffered an eternity.”

She awoke sweating in the middle of the night. She shook getting out of bed. Stumbling across the carpet, she steadied herself catching the door knob. Carefully she exited her room and shuffled down the hall. The children’s door hung open. They lay naked together in the boy’s bed. His hand was next the girl’s vee. Her hand was wet with his cum, cupping his cock like a flashlight.

Tracy knelt down and kissed their foreheads.

“Mommy?”

“Mom?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

Somehow they fit together perfectly in the small bed.

The mom woke to her children’s hugs. She kissed them awake. “Rise and shine my beautiful darlings. We’re going to be late.”

They weren’t much late after showing together, soaping and scrubbing each other, and toweling. Tracy warmed store bought danish, which they ate on the way to the bus stop. They missed the optimal ride, but caught the next. The children reached school in time.

Demom’s Angels, parts 6-7. [slow] [F/m/f] [M/s/d] [inc] [reluc] [group] [fantastical] [satire]

Demom’s Angels

by DiscipleN

— 6 —

Vanice laughed. “Beezub! what was that, a great dane?”

Tracy sat in the passenger seat frantically wiping her pants with tissues. “After the boxer and the dachshund, I thought we’d never reach your car.”

“Poor little wiener dog had to watch the big dogs nose into your crotch.”

“I’ll never get the slobber out of my panties.”

“Trust me. That won’t stop the guys I’m taking you to, from adding their slobber.”

“Just drive.” Tracy was already exasperated at her night out.

“Yessah, missus lady mistress.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re lucky I want cock tonight, instead of clerk.”

The club was a white box with colored lights splayed over the front, strobing to the music within.

Demom’s Angels, parts 4-5. [slow] [F/m/f] [M/s/d] [inc] [reluc] [group] [fantastical] [satire]

Demom’s Angels

by DiscipleN

— 4 —

When Vanice was late to work, usually after a night of conquest, Tracy was allowed to use a master code to unlock the shop’s alarms and raise the storefront’s shutter.

It was a busy day. Payday, for a lot of customers. Vanice sauntered in a hour before Tracy’s lunchbreak. She went to work like a pro. Tracy returned from lunch, and her boss was beaming. The lunch rush had ended and the store was empty for the first time that day.

“Mmmm, it was pure hunk junk, a fat hunk of man flesh inside me, last night.” Vanice had sharing issues.

Before she could change the topic, Tracy’s mind imagined a hispanic prick the size of a guitar sticking out of yesterday’s deliverer’s crotch. Her pelvis clenched at the vision. “Vanice, the cash register was having trouble connecting to the net.” Tracy hoped it had gone unnoticed.

“Honey, I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you’re bleeding, I still need you cover the hour you missed, yesterday. And no PMS lip about it back to me, okay?”

“That’s not it. Just a spasm, Vanice. I’m fine. Work me to the bone, today.”

Demom’s Angels, parts 1-3. [slow] [F/m/f] [M/s/d] [inc] [reluc] [group] [fantastical] [satire]

Demom’s Angels
by DiscipleN

Tracey Nians loaded the dishwasher carefully. It was old and cranky, and if you didn’t know where the sweet spots were, dishes ended up dirtier. She couldn’t entrust the chore to her thirteen year old, Howard, or her nine year old, Mina. Although, the daughter was more reliable than her son.

Cooking and cleaning hadn’t gotten easier after her husband’s death. Tasks reminding her of her love’s absence required extra effort. Tears made the housework easier. Hadn’t she had cried them long enough, according to conventional wisdom?

Tracy opened herself to a new relationship, but dates felt like adultery, and get togethers with friends and an extra friend felt like nothing at all. She pined for her one true love. Maybe she always would. So be it. There were dishes to wash. She poured the soup, closed the hatch, latched it, and spun the dial.

The machine gurgled to life as water galloped through an orifice choked with mineral deposits. The pump groaned and shuddered. The spray holes were harpies screeching dizzily from clunking blades.