collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
I love a good erotic tale, but right now I’d like to find Literature more then Erotica. I’ve once read and enjoyed Rapina and would love to see some Literature where Sex is part of the story for damn sure, but isn’t the sole focus of the story. SciFi/Fantasy Genre, with impregnation being prominent would be lovely.
thanks for reading.
[https://www.asstr.org/~rapina/rapcon.html](https://www.asstr.org/~rapina/rapcon.html)
*crosspost from r/eroticwriting*
Hurled on the central coast of California, a few miles from the beach proper, lies the Madonna Inn. I must admit I had no idea what this place even was, or what the fanfare was all about. “Typical Californians” I muttered to myself, “thinking they invented everything. Even hotels this time!”. And yet the RSVP I received was pretty clear. This was the event of the year. The former homecoming queen, beauty princess, and 3 years in a row “most likely to win Miss America” in our little high school, she was getting married to some billionaire guy who had 3 startups to his name. He had already revolutionized and reinvented hiking, pet adoptions, and something to do with transportation. All of this seemed incredibly far from McIntosh, South Dakota, the place I called home, and that once Shelly McDonald also called home.
The school off Main Street, the one night Shelly and I made out in my old pickup truck, all of that was a distant memory. She had since moved on, made it to California. And now she was delighted to invite me to her wedding with a Mr. Big Money who had changed everything multiple times. Drive 2 days straight? And for what? A girl I had made out with once? And a hotel I had never heard of, but apparently was all the rage? Call me crazy, but I was in.
2014
“AH… AH… OH GOD!” screamed Laura as the fat black man stretched her virgin asshole with his monster cock. Her white, toned legs were pointed up in the air as her partner continued his assault on her tightest of holes. She had tried to wrap them around him, but couldn’t due to his size.
“Baby, you taking this dick like a pro,” said the man with praise in his voice. Laura could only moan in reply.
Laura had never done anything like this before. Sure, she had had the occasional one night stand, but she very rarely brought them to her home, where she lived with her parents while attending college. However, a black man she didn’t know using her ass in her bed after she had a bad break up? It was a brand new sensation for her. One she tried to fight, but as the man’s anal onslaught continued, her willpower slipped away.
Normally an intelligent, well-spoken young woman, the orgasms that had racked her body up until that point had left her brain a mess that only wanted one thing. The cock inside her began to throb as a torrent of seed began to flood her anal cavity. The warm sensation led her to another release.
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. I do not condone what happens in this story. Also, english is not my first language and am on mobile.
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Norah barely made it to the train platform in time. She was wearing her long, bright yellow wool coat over her short and thin body, her wavy red hair cascaded down her shoulders as she ran to the front most car of the train – the one meant for staff – and climbed inside.
Her boss, mrs. Steel, stood just inside the door holding a clipboard. “You’re late” she said without looking up, “you’re supposed to be here at least ten minutes before the passangers board the train. We are leaving in one minute. You barely made it”. Norah only had time to spit out the words “I know, I’m sorry”. By now her passangers would be wondering where she was. She quickly removed her coat and shoes by her assigned hook on the wall revealing her completely naked body. She was slender and covered in freckles, her tits were on the smaller side but allowed for a nice tittyfuck. Norah’s nipples hardened as they were exposed to the cold. She grabbed a wooden box from a nearby shelf and hurried off to find her assigned compartment.
This story is a work of fiction. It contains some topics that may be triggering to some. Read at your own risk.
Tags: *Rape Kink*, *Consensual Non-Consent*, *Forced Impregnation*
It was the end of another very long day for you. A long day of work with errands and family and everything else in your life that you had to do before suddenly you were back home again, with little time to eat (or do much else) before you would find yourself slipping under the covers, dreading the coming of tomorrow. It had been a long while since you’d done much else in your bed than sleep, and lately you found even sleeping to be a terrible rare event. With how little time you had, sex was hardly something that crossed your mind. Sometimes sure, a craving for it would kick in, but usually at a time you couldn’t do anything about it. And it wouldn’t matter if there _was_ something you can do, because you didn’t have the energy to do much about it anyway. And it would be too much work to find someone to help anyway. You’d have to spend time with them, reply to texts, be emotionally available. _No_. No time for that. No energy for that. Hardly worth the effort as much as the idea might sound nice.
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 had left my hometown of Palm Springs, CA right after sunrise. I drove for hours and hours and hours. I drove a lot a few years ago. Maybe I thought that a magic mile count would make my problems stay behind. I thought I could hide somewhere far enough in the desert, or the mountains, or the lake. I had tried most everyplace I could think of. Wyoming was my last chance. Surely no problems were big enough to come find you in Wyoming, I thought to myself.
But after 10 hours of driving, I succumbed to the signs on the highway, and settled for the night in what they promised would be a haven of comfort and delight: Elko, NV. Let me tell you, it was neither. I picked a random hotel, checked in, ate something at one of the many casinos that double down as restaurants, and crashed. It was an eventful night. If I dreamt, I don’t recall it. I was happy enough that the room had a bed and no trace of mold.
She clambered on top of me, rubbing at herself. Every bit of slickness was audible, she was absolutely sopping wet. Grasping my shaft, checking the rubber sheathe we have to use, she strokes me gently before lining up her two hands. Slotting my tip to herself, a quiet gasp escaping her throat, she looks up and I lock eyes.
With the simplest twist, her hips slide out and her passage swallows me whole. Tugging at my restraints I try to meet her. A hand brushes my hair, a cool, matronly look crosses her eyes and her finger shushes me gently. Buried deep inside her, I feel myself swell even further.
Hands on my chest, she lifts herself up my cock and lazily falls back down. The gasps have already grown into low moans, deep from her chest. She closes her eyes as she feels out the rhythm. By instinct some leather straps cant fully inhibit, I try to meet every movement with a thrust, she may have learned a little too well, I have no control like this.
“I need your help, as a friend”
I remember her words exactly.
Karen and I had met in college, we both played on the coed intramural ultimate frisbee league. It was what the dorky college kids did before Quidditch was a thing. We got along well, she was easy to talk to, our friendship felt effortless for some reason, and it always felt spiced with a bit of sexual tension that neither of us acted on, mostly because I was still dating my high school sweetheart back home and she had Scott.
I’m not sure what would have happened if motive and opportunity met but I never really let it bother me.
Anyway, we stayed in touch as she gave Scott the boot, went to law school and got a pretty decent lawyering job in Chicago. I didn’t know what was going on her life, but she seemed quite successful. She was involved with writing insurance products for grain farmers or some such thing.
We had one of those zombie friendships on social media where we would “like” each other’s pictures and statuses but we never really spoke that much, but it felt like we were keeping up with each other without having to keep up.
Harper and her friend, Louisa, knelt down on the carpeted floor between the two beds of the hotel room booked by one of their high school’s janitors, Mr. Jackson. She smoothed her short, navy blue dress out and tussled her wavy, brown hair while Louisa fussed with her tits through her short black dress. Harper saw Mr. Jackson nearly every day at her preppy, upper class high school, he kept his head down and did his job, but she never knew the man. Previously, she had thought him beneath her, not because of his race, but because of his social status. That was going to change tonight.
Since no one truly knew Mr. Jackson, so rumors spread about him. “I heard he’s a former gang member, working here where no one from his old life will find him,” or “I heard he was in Rikers for a few years on a robbery charge,” or, the only one that was true, “I heard he pervs on the girls in the senior class.”