Tag: Voyeurism

A camelride on the bus (Tales from Frivarld 1) [mf] [exh] [voy] [cfnm] [grinding] [yoga pants]

This story takes place in a universe boringly similar to ours, with the sole exception that social norms are a bit more libertine and casual sex is seen as a legitimate way of interaction between strangers.

There still were some minuets left until my bus would halt at the bus stop at which I had just arrived. It would bring me home from a day at university which had left my head feeling like a useless globe of lead and the words of our lecturer still echoed in his monotonous voice in my head when the yellow vehicle finally pulled up in front of me. As expected, by the time the bus had arrived at my bus stop, which was situated halfway down its route, all viable seats had already been occupied and the only option left for me would as usual be to stand on the square platform located in the middle of the bus where the door was. It was designed for buggies, actually, but was normally populated by commuters like me who had been unsuccessful in the run for seats. Read more »

Call a cab (MF) (Voy)

We were riding in a cab – coming back from dinner or a show or drinks. I was running my hand under your dress and across your thigh. As I slid my hand higher up your thigh, I realized you weren’t wearing panties (which was strange, because I knew you’d been wearing them earlier.) As I started to slide my hand around your thigh, you gently parted your legs and slid forward a little on the seat. You began biting on my ear gently, kissing and licking it. At first I cupped your vagina with my whole hand, feeling the warmth against my fingers. Gently I started to apply pressure with my middle finger, parting your lips slightly. I started to roll my finger subtly, pushing back against your clit and pressing deeper with each arc. You started biting my ear harder, sticking your tongue deeper inside. Finally I curled my finger and pushed it deep inside your vagina. You bit my ear to bury the gasp, but your breathing was short and fast and you whispered “fuck” a little louder than you intended. The driver looked back in the mirror, starting to get suspicious. With a second finger now inside you, we found a rhythm. You were pressing forward a little harder and rolling your hips against my hand. My fingers were held tight against the front of your vagina with your clit rolling against the inside of my knuckles. You stopped playing with my ear and simply pressed your mouth against it, breathing heavy in time with our rhythm. You reached into my lap and found my penis pushing hard against my jeans. You traced the outline with your fingers until you found the tip, squeezing it gently and stroking the shaft. You start to fumble with my zipper, but I had to undo it with my free hand. You slid your hand inside and pulled my boxers shorts away enough for you to grasp my penis tightly. I pulled my fingers up sharply in response and you shuddered. The driver started making more frequent glances in the mirror, trying to see but avoiding my eyes. You pulled my fingers out of your vagina, slid sideways on the seat, bent down, pulled my penis further out of my jeans and into your mouth. You sucked lightly on the tip, licking the shaft and sliding your hand down to cup my testicles. I pulled your hair back away from your face with my wet fingers, leaving light wet streaks on your cheek. I squeezed the back of your neck as you closed your lips around my penis, running your tongue around the tip. When you sat up and kissed me, your mouth was salty and wet. The driver started saying something, but it was too quiet to hear through the glass. You moved your tongue slowly inside my mouth, pressing hard but evenly, quietly. As you pulled up your dress and slid your legs across me, I ran both hands up the outsides of your thighs until I held your buttocks tightly. The kissing was faster then and the deep French kisses punctuated by harder pecks and bites. My penis was pressed between your thigh and my abdomen and I could feel your pelvis warm, scratchy and wet on my hip. You reached down with your hand and slid my penis against the inside of your leg, pulling it towards your vagina but missing. The driver’s voice was raised now, but we weren’t listening. Finally you pulled my penis inside you, sliding down the shaft and instantly taking it inside you completely. Continuing to clutch your buttocks with one hand, I pushed the other hand up your dress, desperately trying to pull one of your breasts free. The driver was pounding on the glass with one hand and pressing the horn with the other. We were fucking furiously then, with you holding the back of the seat behind my head, looking me in the eye while you pounded your vagina against the base of my penis. Unable to get your breast free, I put both hands up on the sides of your head and dug my fingers into your hair. The driver was starting to swerve then, angry and unsure of whether to pull over or rock us loose with the motion of the car. I could feel the pressure building in my penis as the nerves started to tingle and tighten. My moaning rose in pitch and you quickened your pace in response. With your face against mine and our eyes locked, you whispered “cum for me” and squeezed your thighs slightly. Although already fully inside you, I started pushing harder against your vagina and thrusting wildly as the pressure swirled through my muscles. Clumsily clutching your breast through the front of your dress, my head snapped back as the semen exploded inside your vagina, three or four deep pulses and shuddering muscle contractions, pressed as fully against you as possible. The driver smashed his fist on the glass one last time and swore in disgust. You kissed me sweetly and slowly before lifting your hips up and carefully rolling back onto the seat. The hem of your dress brushed lightly against my penis, pulling a trail of semen across my jeans. You wrapped an arm around my waist, gently rested your head against my heaving shoulders and quickly pulled my hand up your thigh, spreading your legs slightly and nestling my fingers inside your vagina…

In Over My Head, Part 2: Dad’s New Girlfriend [mF][tease][voy][mast]

This is a work of fiction.

I'm writing this down because I don't know what else to do. My grades have gone down the tubes, my college plans are looking iffy, and I've started cutting myself. I want to tell someone but I'm too scared – it could destroy my family and leave us in a national media circus. I'm hoping that writing this down will help; I'll probably just burn it but at least I'll kinda get it out.

Part 2

I remember when I first realized what was happening. Things had been a bit weird with Dad for a few weeks – he was on call and working late a lot more than normal, and was in much better spirits than I'd seen him in for years. At the time, I'd taken this in and accepted it with the self-centeredness of youth, never wondering about the cause.

Then one day he came home early, while I was still eating dinner, and sat down across from me with a half-smile on his face. Dad was a former Army doctor who now worked in the University hospital downtown. He was 6'3" and a steady 220 pounds for years, though every year the muscle-to-fat ratio dropped a bit, with lighter brown hair than mine and grey eyes to my green. Read more »

In Over My Head, Part 1: Watching My Neighbor [mF][voy][mast]

This is a work of fiction.

I'm writing this down because I don't know what else to do. My grades have gone down the tubes, my college plans are looking iffy, and I've started cutting myself. I want to tell someone but I'm too scared – it could destroy my family and leave us in a national media circus. I'm hoping that writing this down will help; I'll probably just burn it but at least I'll kinda get it out.

Part 1

It started when I was 15. It had been just Dad and me since Mom died of leukemia when I was 5. Dad's a doctor, and I could tell even through my own pain how hard that was for him. I was just a little kid – it hit me hard, but I bounced back pretty quickly. Dad had troubles for…well, since then, I guess. He started drinking for a few years, but he'd gotten sober again when I was 10. He says he started to see me look like him and didn't want me to follow down his path. He dried out and was doing a lot better, but not like before. But the antidepressants helped and things had settled in to a normal routine. Read more »

The Battle. [MF] [Breeding]

I think I'm stronger than him, but he's got both his hands.

I am Tallia, and I am fighting for the right to breed.

The man I am fighting today is named Markus. He's been around a while and he knows a few tricks. I saw him take down a tawny bitch called Jessica just two weeks ago, and when he was done with her she was walking oddly, to say the least. He uses his lower centre of gravity to upend the women he fights, and to be very honest, they aren't used to that. Most men carry themselves in a manner that is far too upright, much too high for combat … probably a side effect of the aggressive display behaviour that works so well when doing battle with other men. But he knows better. Women have wide hips, heavy chests, so they tend to carry themselves lower in combat. Unlike almost every other male champion in the circuit today, he understands that and compensates. Read more »

Take me to the store [MF][mast][voy][exhibition]

Hi! Here my first story ever. Please, be gentle with me ;) Also, English isn’t my firt language so… sorry for the mistakes. Enjoy. . . . .

The automatic door slide open slowly in front of me. I'm already attracting the attention of people around me. Good. It’s time to start.

It’s Tuesday, I always chose a day in the week to have less chance to encounter children. I might be a slut, but I still have a conscience. But now I’m too exited to even think about that. I walk inside the departement store and a grin spread on my face. It’s going the be good.

Today, before leaving. I put on my blue skirt that is juste long enough to let men use their imagination, but short enough that they don’t have difficulty using it. I wonder what they would do if they knew that I wasn’t wearing any panties. My smile juste became bigger and I have to make a effort to supress it. Thanks to my push-up bra and my low v-neck, people can easly see the curves of my breats and the valley between them. I finished my outfit with my red stiletto and my cherry red lipstick. Read more »

[Str8, MF, voy, nc, reluc, inc, mast, timestop, oral] Jake’s Magic Remote, Part V – Cruel Temptations

Let's keep it rolling! Part V is a light interlude, but it sets some things up. As always, feedback is welcome! I've been working on part XI today, it's pretty fun.

Sarah showed up while Petra was cleaning up, so Jake decided to let things rest for a bit; he’d had his fun, and he was more than a little worried in hindsight about how readily he’d molested his daughter just because she was wearing tiny shorts and he was uncomfortably horny.
Then again, he thought to himself, she was sort of asking for it. It was obvious that Petra had a mild exhibitionism or voyeurism fetish developing, and all he’d really done was fulfil her own fantasy for her, so why should he feel bad?
Petra changed into pajama pants and the three watched the rest of the movie together. Once again, Jake got to enjoy having his favorite two females on either side of him. As evenings go, it was pretty nice, and he’d soon put his daughter’s rampant sexuality out of his mind. Read more »

[Str8, MF, voy, nc, reluc, inc, mast, timestop] Jake’s Magic Remote, Part IV – Home Movies

Jake’s mind was racing as he went through the motions of working. He’d stopped time without the remote! Was it him that did it? Was it a safety feature? And why did he keep getting in near-misses with cars?
Speaking of cars, around lunchtime he realized he’d never called Carol to let her know he was okay. Granted he thought he saw her in the food court when he was messing with those girls, but she was gone so fast he couldn’t be sure. He reached into his bag to find the card she’d left in there and dialed the number on it, putting on his phone headset.
While the phone rang, Jake took the opportunity to discreetly move the panty collection from his bag to a locked drawer in his desk. Carol’s voice came across the line after a few rings. “How are you, Jake?”
“I’m great,” Jake replied, closing and locking the drawer. “My head’s much better. Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”
“That’s alright,” she replied. “You’ve been very busy. We’ll catch up later this week.”
Jake was about to respond when the line went dead. “Huh,” he said to himself. He was starting to wonder if the appearance of the remote in his bag was really an accident.
He might have followed that train of thought further, but something drilled into his brain at that exact moment. Specifically, Marta’s shrill, too-loud laugh, coming from the Deskside guys’ office across the hall. He scowled in irritation. She was at it again, showing off her fake tits so she would never have to remember her password.
Jake slapped his pause button. He still hadn’t figured out how he’d stopped the car, but the remote still worked just fine. He got up from his desk and stalked angrily over to the Deskside office.
It was quite a tableau in there. The guys all had big desk surfaces to work on, more like tables really. Tim, the new guy, was taking a phone call and clearly annoyed at the noise level. A couple of the other guys were standing, clearly chatting with Marta, who herself was in the middle of saying something. One other tech was bent over an open computer, but his eyeline was pretty obviously pointing at the infamous tits.
Being Friday, everyone was in casual wear in the office. Marta was wearing another v-neck today, this one a tight-fitting white tee. Underneath he could just make out the outline of her bra. Under that she had a black skirt that ended well above the knee. She was apparently pushing “business casual” to new limits.
Jake went to work immediately. First he pulled off Marta’s top and put it aside. “Won’t be needing this,” he said to nobody. He snatched a sharpie off the Tim’s desk and went about leaving his calling card. Across her back was the usual “I AM A BITCH”, and then below he wrote “I use my fake tits and pushy attitude to manipulate the socially inept.” Part of him wished he could see the look on her face when whoever she was fucking found that on her.
Next he flipped up her skirt and confiscated the lacy black thong she wore, shoving it in his pocket. He did have to admit, she had a really nice ass. Probably did a lot of squats to keep it that way. He squeezed it in both hands, smirking at the dual imprints he left behind.
Moving around in front of her, Jake was amused but not surprised to see that Marta’s pussy was shaved bare. His dick jumped in his pants, excited by standing here with so much power over this stupid cunt.
Grinning, Jake pushed Marta down onto her knees on the carpet. He carefully pulled her tongue out of her open mouth, then unzipped and pulled out his cock. It was partly hard already, and he ran it along her tongue, making her lick all over it and getting it a little moist from her saliva. Next he unhooked her front-clasp bra and once again exposed her globelike fake tits.
“Might as well get your money’s worth of these,” Jake quipped as he nestled his cock between them. He put his hands on either side and pressed inward, creating a warm fleshy tunnel around his shaft, and started slowly pumping it back and forth.
Marta’s flesh, warm and saliva-moist, felt simply wonderful around Jake’s dick. He moaned aloud, looking down at her, then laughed as he realized she still had her tongue sticking out of her open mouth. “Well that’s distracting,” he said, shoving it back in there and closing her lips and jaw. Once again he carefully nudged her lips into a smile. “Much better,” he said, resuming the slow stroking in her cleavage. “You should be happy that you’re being used for your intended purpose.”
Jake moved his thumbs to play with Marta’s nipples and started fucking her tits harder and faster, grinning down at her frozen smile. “What a pretty look for you. I know… just the thing to complete it!” As he spoke, he started shooting cum between her tits and up her neck to her chin. He pulled back and stroked himself, finishing the load with a last shot across her face. From this close, the cum had enough time to splatter on Marta’s skin and hair before freezing with her.
Jake squeezed the last few drops out onto Marta’s lips and took a step back to appreciate his work.
It was quite a scene. Marta knelt in the office, surrounded by smiling I.T. guys, with cum plastered across her face and chest. Her skirt was pulled up and her bra hung open as if she’d been stripped with urgency… which, really, she had been. There was only one thing missing. Jake knelt down and moved Marta’s hands so it looked like she was holding her tits up to receive the load.
“Perfect. Hold it,” Jake said, pulling out his phone to take some photos for posterity – or who knows, he thought, maybe blackmail. “That’s perfect baby, the camera loves you.”
With that done, Jake went about cleaning Marta up… sort of. He used a tissue to scrape all the cum off her skin, then smeared it in a thin coat on her breasts where the bra would be covering them. The bit that had got in her hair he left there, smearing it in until it wasn’t visible. The blob on her lips he pressed onto her tongue and smeared down also, coating its surface.
Next he closed Marta’s bra over his cum and pressed on her tits until they fit into the cups, or at least sort of fit. It was a tight bra, which helped. Finally he stood her up, fixed her skirt, and put her shift back on, carefully moving her hair back into its regular style.
Whistling to himself, Jake returned his office and pressed the Play button.
Marta yelped loudly as she felt the grip on her ass. There was nobody behind her, however, so nobody could be blamed for that. Jake could only imagine how she must be feeling: tits sore and abused, nipples teased, taste of semen in her mouth and a feeling on her skin like someone came on her but no cum to be found.
Jake heard Marta quietly excuse herself and saw her walk out toward her own desk, rubbing her tender chest. He waited a few seconds, then picked up a folder and followed behind her.
“Ow,” Jake heard Marta say quietly as she walked into her own cube. Jake stopped walking and turned to her.
“You alright?” he asked her.
“Yeah, fine,” she replied, sitting down. Her eyes widened dramatically the moment her ass hit the chair, signalling that she’d discovered the theft of her panties. If only she knew they were wadded up in Jake’s pocket right that instant!
“Okeydokey,” Jake replied, turning and walking to the copy room, grinning.
Today was really looking up. Read more »

[Str8, MF, voy, nc, reluc, inc, mast, timestop] Jake’s Magic Remote, Part III – Karma Chameleon

Let's keep this rolling! Part III for you.

Edit: forgot [oral] tag, sorry!

Sarah got home only a few minutes after the food was delivered, and the family sat on the couch together to eat in front of some mindless television. Jake sat in the middle, acutely aware of his now-fully-clothed daughter’s body so close to him. He kept seeing her in his mind, gloriously nude and splattered with his cum. Swallowing hard, he looked in the other direction at Sarah, his wife.
Sarah was like an Amazon goddess. Jake had been enchanted with her from first sight. She stood an inch taller than he did, with raven-black hair past her shoulders, a slightly crooked smile, and bright green eyes. Her figure was hourglass-like, although she carried some extra weight, and the way she slouched on the couch afforded him a nice look down at her ample cleavage. It was almost a good enough look to make him forget about his adopted daughter’s breasts, round and perfect, with the water beading off of them. Sarah smiled up at Jake. “What have you two been up to this afternoon?”
Jake felt himself blush when Petra leaned against him and answered, “Just watching TV and hanging out, mom.”
Jake smiled nervously and nodded. “How was your day?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.
Sarah groaned. “Don’t even get me started. We have this huge order to do, and the truck didn’t come in until almost noon…”
After years of marriage, Jake had learned that “How was your day?” was husband-code for “Please tell me everything that happened so I can nod and smile for half an hour.”
Jake leaned back, one hand running through his wife’s hair as she continued talking. He really did love her, even if they didn’t have sex nearly as much as he would have liked. He had no doubt about her feelings; her libido had just never been up to his. But then, he’d never had the ability to stop time before… Read more »