Fantasy Is More than Black and White (M/F – preview)

Here's the first part of my new story! I'd love to know what you think.

Fantasy is More than Black and White A Wedding Fantasia

Most straight guys would have considered dating a hot bisexual girl a fantasy — even if it only lasted a week and she never did get around to inviting one of her girlfriends in for the porn-requisite threesome.

Unlike most straight guys, it hadn’t ever occurred to Trey to fantasize about any of that. Besides, it had been years ago.

But when that hot bisexual ended up marrying Trey’s sister Dianne… Well, that wasn’t the stuff of fantasy at all.

Trey didn’t mind that his sister was marrying a woman. He was happy to serve as her best man. Ecstatic.

No.

What was throwing Trey for a loop through the whole ceremony wasn’t that Dianne, who’d come out to him when she was twelve, was marrying another woman. It was that she was marrying Lara. Lara Jefferson. Who had slept with everything that moved during college, and after. Including — for one very, very weird week — Trey.

Dave. [true story, m/f]

When I first met Dave, I was about 21 and he was probably going on 43, though you still couldn't tell. He carries himself with youthful vigour. He asked me my name, and immediately knew who my dad was. "Tonto", they called him. It seems that everyone I have met that knew my dad knew that name, and felt it necessary to tell me a few wild stories. I have grown impartial to the stories. I think Dave could tell, because he only bothered to tell me one. I was working with my common-law husband, drywalling, and at the time Dave was running his dad's company cleaning out basements and shit for insurance jobs (after floods and that kind of thing). Every morning, the c-l and I would drop our daughter off at daycare, drive to Dave's, and have a cup of coffee. He drank his coffee like tar, I swear you could nearly stand a spoon up in it. Maybe that's where he got all the hair from, fuck he was a man beast, and it made me crazy. He likely noticed my eyeing him up over coffee, sitting next to c-l. I would fiddle with my spoon, bite on it, make "eyes" and grin at him while he told his stories, and often let my eyes wander over him.

“My Fantasy” [MF,petite, oral, straight sex, sleeping wife]

Unsettling dreams wake me, my wife asleep still, oblivious to my re positioning to the other side of the bed. A slight creak i hear in the hallway. Slowly and stealthy in the dark, a shadow moves into our bedroom. I can hear the gentle snores of my wife as this shade comes closer to me. I can feel its presence, the heat pressing against my side of the bed. A hand, soft and sensuously presses fingers against my lips. I recognize these fingers, you are a bold one aren't you. Your fingers trail down my neck to my chest, quietly and sneaky, moving the blanket down my body. I move closer to the edge of the bed as your fingers caress farther down my skin. A pair of soft lips press against mine, your desire unquestioned. i can feel your hand grasp my now erect shaft, as your tongue enters my mouth. Your mouth then moves down my neck, sweet kisses and licks caress my skin. I feel your breath on my cock as you pause to quietly celebrate your victory over me. Those precious lips then kiss along the length of my cock. I try and reach for your small breasts but you playfully swat my hands away. Your distract me by opening you mouth and swallowing my length. Silently you suck and lick me, I push my hips out over the edge of the bed. As much as I enjoy the sensations you give, i desire you more. with great reluctance i pull back from you, move your luscious mouth to mine for a well deserved kiss. Slipping out of bed, i guide you to the bathroom, lights still off until i shut the bathroom door. I am greeted by your beautiful body, wearing a tiny teddy and matching pink g string. Your amazing nipples jut proudly through the sheerness of this micro teddy. You have always taken my breath away, but now the words seem inadequate to describe your beauty.
I press my lips to yours, hoping to convey the desire and love I hold for you. i gently kiss down to your neck and then spin you around to kiss down between your shoulder blades all along your spine. My firm hands grasping you butt cheeks, then down to your ankles. I motion you to put you hands on the floor, then grabbing one ankle i move you leg to one side of my head. You catch on quickly by moving your other leg to my opposite shoulder. Hands grabbing your thighs as i hoist you up, your sweet crotch now an inch from my hungry mouth. I love the way you smell, drunk with your scent i move my mouth onto your barely clad pussy and lovingly lick you through the thin fabric. My tongue sliding the string out of the way i can focus on swirling your clit. your juices flow and I am lost in the heaven of your pussy. You bring me back to reality by engulfing my cock in you mouth again. The race is on as you seek to throat my cock and I long to make you gush. our moths a a whirlwind of lust as each of us seeks to distract the other with our oral gymnastics. I lap at your nectar as i pours from you, i fight your masterful assault on my cock, not wanting to waste this opportunity you have given me.
I lower you gently to the floor, you look up at my with wounded eyes until i grin and hold your hand to bring you standing before me. I pull the g string down and wrap my arms around you. You leap into my arms and our embrace is joined with our lips meeting, my desire for you unparalleled in this universe. I look deep into your hazel brown eyes and smile. you then slowly impale yourself on my cock, your 5' frame nestled tightly against me at 6'3. I relish this sensation, this first time your sweet pussy accepts my hard cock. i kiss you mouth and nibble at your neck, you teddy discarded on the floor as nothing stops me from hungrily suckling at your nipples. you lift my head back up for a passionate kiss and begin pumping yourself along the length of my cock, bottoming out and then pulling away. our pace quickens as the night grows shorter. you eyes locked onto mine, my soul bared to you as we give into our animal passions. As one we explode in our embrace. In this moment we are oblivious to the universe, all that is, is right here between you and I.

[first time] I participated in a sex ritual for a promotion.

I don't know how to begin this story. Despite it happening over a year ago, I've never told it to anyone. Partially, I am ashamed that I agreed to participate at all. But mostly it is because I do not feel as though I agreed to participate as extensively as I did. A man should fear no things, but I fear, in large degree, the reactions my friends and loved ones would have if I told them I was snookered into having ritualistic, Satanic sex with another man. I don't feel like I'm alone in this.

There was only one place I wanted to work after I graduated from law school. Ever since sophomore year of undergrad, I was obsessed with getting this one job. It consumed me. I worked hard. I got into a T1 law school. I made review and dean's list and I got my dream job. It was everything I ever wanted. The hours were awful, the work was droll, I had no social life, but the pay was ludicrously inflated. All I wanted was an enormous pay check, no matter the cost. My father was a minister in a small town in the south. I drove a brand new, fully stocked Lexus and I was only 26. I had escaped small America and I lived in the city. I was working for one of the biggest firms in the world and many other lawyers were accepting contractor work site the economy tanked. In a way that feels so incredibly good: I won.

“Siri” An erotic novel

1.

"Siri!" Siri heard her mother's scream calling her. She instinctively ran and hid behind the latrine. She'll never find me here among the flies, she thought. Just then her mother grabbed her from behind.

"Siri! What the hell are you doing back here? Your father is looking for you!"

Her mother yanked her arm so hard she thought it would dislocate her shoulder.

They went to the front of the old house. Her father was standing talking to a foreign man.

"Bring her over here!" her father shouted at them.

When they were standing in front of the two men, Siri could see that the foreign man was middle aged, wearing dark sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat.

"Take her clothes off!" her father yelled at his wife.

Her mother immediately ripped her dirty, tattered shirt and skirt off and threw them to the ground.

Siri was standing completely naked in front of the foreign man and her father, while her mother held her arms from behind. She tried to hide her tiny breasts with her hands, but her mother pulled her arms down violently.

On The Couch [feedback][short story][MF][cuckold]

[in medias res]

"Wait. Yeah, there is something on my mind. If you want to talk about it with me."

"Of course, Andi," said Eric. "Anything for a friend." He walked into her office, sat his things on the floor, and sat across from her at the desk.

"Well, Tim and I had a fight last night. A bad one. Definitely the worst one we've ever had."

"I'm sorry to hear that," asked Eric, sincerely concerned. "What was it about?"

"Well, I'd rather not say. But it's not even important. Some of the things he said. They were so hurtful. I couldn't believe he could even say such things to me." She was finding it increasingly difficult to hold back her tears.

"That's terrible. Have you talked since then?"

"No. I wanted to talk this morning before I came to work, but he basically ignored me. Acted like I wasn't in the room." She couldn't fight the tears anymore. She began to sob hysterically, and the tears flowed freely.

The Farm Pt. 5 [ff] [oral]

Lucy was in high demand. She wasn't quite sure what it was about her, but there was never a lull in business for her. Mark now treated her with respect rather than snickering at what she said, or forcefully pushing her around hallways. Though Clark had always treated Lucy respectfully, he now doted on her to clients right in front of her. If a man was leaving the Farm after a session with another girl, Clark would waste no time introducing them and suggesting her – though she was a higher rate.

Every client was different. Each man came with something specific in mind, and no one seemed to see Lucy. They were either fucking their third grade teacher, punishing their mother-in-law, or having a sensual night with their deceased wife. Every man had a life separate from the Farm, but somehow Clark knew every detail, which meant that in turn, so did Lucy.

"Tonight will be different," Darla said, pinning back a portion of Lucy's hair to show off her eyes. "Have you gotten your script?"

Lucy glances down at the slip of paper in her hand. "It just says no dialogue and 'get to the point'?"

The Farm Pt. 3 [mf] [facial]

Clark ushered Lucy through the hallway and handed her off to Mark. The two of them briefly exchanged some information on one of the older girls before Mark swept her off into a room to the left of the studio.

Lucy had never seen this room before. There were vanity mirrors all along one wall and the rest of it appeared to be an enormous walk-in closet. All of the lingerie and outfits had been sectioned off and were all labeled.

"Per request, you'll be choosing from this rack," Mark gestured to what appeared to be everyday clothing. "Lucy, meet Darla."

An older woman with wrinkles smothered in dark foundation grabbed Lucy into a tight embrace. She smelled like old perfume and hairspray, and one of her false eyelashes was coming unglued. "I help dress the ladies and do your hair and makeup."

Mark forced Lucy down into a chair in front of the mirror by her shoulders. "Your first client is looking for a realistic experience. He has his fantasy down to fine details. You read the script, you give him what he came for. The gentlemen may choose to tip you – separate from your pay and their fee – depending on how well you do for them." Mark handed her two papers stapled together.

Do you care what Gender writes your Erotica?

Hi, erotica readers!

I'm considering starting a side career as an erotic author, focusing on a variety of kinks between loving, bonded characters.

As men or women (please clarify which you are),

  1. Do you care if it's written by a man or a woman?
  2. If so, would you prefer it to be written by a woman, or at least maintain the illusion that it is.
  3. Am I at a disadvantage using a male pseudonym, or do some women find that attractive?

I focus on the viewpoints of both make and female characters, and as a man, I use my wife's perspective to balance mine, but I do all of the writing.

I'm happy to answer questions too so, whoo, mini AMA.

(edit: a word)

Published
Categorized as Erotica Tagged

Ghosts that Linger

A man marched into the ballroom, skin clammy, clutching a half drunk glass of scotch and its parent bottle. The room was empty, cleaned and closed for the night. Almost all the chairs were stacked seven or eight high and the tables were all covered with plain white table clothes. After one in the morning not even the cleaning crew bothers to come into this place. I set the bottle down on a table and dropped into closest seat angrily, making sure to face the door.

“I said I wouldn’t do this to myself anymore,” he thought to himself as he tossed back another quick swig of scotch. “I’m over this. I’m done.”

He had said the very same things to himself countless times over the past few months. It had become a mantra to him, one that was supposed to break him from this viscous cycle. Now it was just dull noise, repeated ad nauseam in his head, feeding the growing shame, melancholy, and lust. He hated the way he felt, the way she made him feel. It was all her fault and she wouldn’t spare a moment on that thought. He put the glass down.

Published
Categorized as Erotica Tagged