Oral

I was surprised that she called me the next night and had me come over. She had written a set of rules for me to follow when I wasn't with her. I was not allowed to read them there, only agree. If not it was over between us. Being the horny boy I was I agreed on the spot. For my reward we went to her basement and she had me lay on my back on the couch, only shirt off.

Chrissie finally made the appointment, but after months of research she had decided she really wanted it more than anything. Just the thought made her tingle and make her panties moist. She had three more days to wait, the appointment was at 10pm. Chrissie closed her eyes and started masturbating under the covers, her fingers lightly touching her clit, she had a small orgasm enough to curb her appetite and she then fell asleep fingers still in her panties.

Disclaimer: All characters involved are over the age of 18. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A white, thick rug sprawled across the hard wood floor was the only comfortable object that lay in the room of Mistress Amber's garage. Aside from the shelves attached to the wall that were displaying an assortment of lubes, butt plugs and dildos of various shapes and sizes. Directly underneath the bottom shelf were paddles, whips, floggers and rope. Lots and lots of rope.

Hanging as she was, Chloe was beginning to ache, just a little, but she guessed it was all part of the process. This was all new to Chloe; this was the first time that Andy had brought her to his bedroom. She had been in here before, a few years ago with Max, Andy's son, and it was then that she stole his Spanking magazines when she was forming her sexual tastes.

The alleyway between two brick buildings was unremarkable, hidden behind a torn-open section of chain-link fence. Some litter had slipped out of the rusty green dumpster pushed against a wall, and there was barely enough space to get a compact car past it, though it dead-ended into another wall. As the sun set, though, and darkness crept across the city, the quiet, empty street met with some company; a handful of men arrived, ducking through the hole in the fence to mull around by the dumpster.

She flipped her phone open, dialed his number, and then promptly ended the call. "Dammit! No, no, no, no, you're going to do this. You want to do this. Besides, you know him, you can trust him....just do it." Two seconds later she's dialed the number again and smacked the phone shut swiftly. The room felt as if it was going to engulf her with the magnitude of heat that flushed her cheeks.

Wandering the cold dark streets alone, boot heels clicking a sharp staccato off the walls surrounding her, Ilena walks, tall, and lithe wrapped in a full-length hooded fur coat that hugs to her curves like a second skin. As she paces methodically down the abandoned street Ilena feels a niggling shiver glide through her senses. Her nostrils flair and she turns suddenly, eyes glimmering in the shade of the hood she wears.

Her boss was infuriatingly pretentious, which was perhaps why she found herself becoming increasingly snarky in her dealings with him. Mr. Sinclair's office had a "lord of the manor" style, complete with a giant desk and antique telephone. She understood that he had taken over the firm after his uncle passed, but that was long enough ago that he could redecorate. However, there was a formality to him that fit his surroundings.

Melinda slipped her fingers under Tanya's collar, holding the leash gently in her hand, guiding her over to her favorite chair, sitting down there and pulling her up into her lap, stroking her neck softly as she settled the girl there, whispering against her ear, "It was fun to torment you at work today, pet." Tanya looked around the room as she was guided along, groaning as she settled into her Mistress' lap, hearing the whisper, whispering her own response, "

Precious was lonely. It seemed like the whole world was on lock-down and she hadn't been fucked in weeks. She dreamed about her Daddy and remembered all the fun they'd had. She thought about the threesomes in her bedroom, the occasional groups and the amazing times they'd had at play parties. She thought about the kinky afternoons when they were alone and how happy she was to do his bidding. Precious is only 25, but she's been with Daddy for six incredible years.

This is a less explicit but equally intense version of our short story "The Chair", enjoy... --- Eve stands in front of the apartment. Her naked thighs are cold from the wind swirling around the edges of the her long coat. She pulls the coat closer around her and shudders. Her heart races as she raises her hand to knock on the door. She pauses, hand raised, then knocks. Her nipples harden immediately.

Lady Mudford had welcomed home her husband from his long absence in Africa as any dutiful wife would. Never mind that his potbelly was grosser than ever. The year's added age had also served to prolong his pounding her away in bed. But eventually he did manage to implant his seed yet one more time. That was as much a duty for him as it was for her. "Sorry, dear."

He stared at me with those piercing eyes that everyone feared. They bore into you from the front of the lecture hall and there was no where to hide. Everyone feared it, yet why did I feel that tumbling in my belly. As he came closer I grew hotter, till I was sure my cheeks where flushing and he could see me tremble. It was a heady combination of fear and lust that consumed me whenever I saw him.

It was the thing she had for swoopy haired boys, Gwen decided, that made it so difficult for her to dislike Julian Swanson. And she really wanted to dislike him. Why? The reasons were many. His laziness, his money and the spoiled churlish attitude he wore with pride—fostered by his fawning mother— were at the top of the list. However if she were truly honest, Gwen would not pick any of those flaws as the thing that really bothered her about Julian.

Prisoner Of Lust A Latex Futa Nuns From Hell Side Story Camilo paced nervously in the kitchen as he looked at his phone. It would ring any minute and his nerves were standing on edge. He'd just closed his laptop after a brief chat with a woman on Fetlife. At least, he hoped it was a woman. One could never be certain a stranger's profile was real until you met them in real life.

The last time he had messed up was a difficult one. She had demanded that he stand there before her and lower his pants to his ankles. Hes shorts and pants there on the floor, he stood there standing. His rock hard penis pointed at her erect twitching. There he stood with her eyes upon him. It was difficult not to feel self conscious and he was so overwrought, he feared he may cum as he stood there.

Daddy walked back and forth in front of his Princess. She had gone and done it this time. She was squirming wanting to know how Daddy was going to punish her this time. Her ass was still red and starting to turn purple from her last punishment. She earned that for being a brat and demanding Daddy's attention knocking his drink to the ground as she climbed into his lap. She enjoyed that punishment.

I kneel on the floor in front of you, sitting relaxed on the bed. I'm staring at the thing in your hands. It's a small, black velvet drawstring bag. I've never seen it before, and whatever is in it can't be very big, but you're looking pleased with yourself. I'm not stupid enough to say it, but that makes me nervous. "Do you want to see?" you ask. I nod, licking dry lips.

"Thank you for calling Holmes BMW. This is Trina, how may I help you?" Every time the phone rang those were the dreadful words that rolled out of her mouth. It had been two weeks since she wrecked her Beamer on her way home from a party. Her father said that she had no idea what it was like to work for money and that it was about damn time she learned.

This story is strictly fiction; any correlation to actual people alive or dead is purely happenstance. It took a long time to write. I hope it is somewhat coherent. ***************************************************************************** On the first warm spring Saturday, young Seth awoke to the enticing smell of bacon, groggily he arose off his childhood bed and headed downstairs still in his blue cotton sailor-themed pajamas. At his mature age, the pajamas were adolescent, yet he still wore them.

She knelt on the thin carpet of the medium-grade hotel, eyes down, listening. Still clothed, but suggestively so, deep v neckline on an almost see-through blouse, short skirt, stockings. All black. Her Master and Sir Gryphon sat in medium-grade hotel furniture, negotiating what Sir Gryphon could do to Master's slave tonight in the ballroom-turned-dungeon. Her Master enjoyed sharing her, enjoyed seeing other men hurt her, and pleasure her. It wasn't a kink either of them expected, rather like a man finding joy in sharing his car or horse with someone who would appreciate it.

A 1688 word short story about a game we played introducing one another to the wondrous joy of abject sexual submission. Lisa and Jamie were 19, Eva 20, George and Paul 21. *** We were born in turbulent times, and we grew up during the war that wasn't an "official" war in Vietnam, it dominated our childhood and the resulting economic downturn dominated our adolescence. We had just graduated from high school and rented a place together down the road near the Junior College in Llano.

It's Friday, just after midday, and I am in the lift of my Dom's office building. I have a caesar salad in my bag for him which is ostensibly my motivation for dropping in. Later, we're going away for a long, filthy weekend. A weekend which should have already begun except he was called into work to approve an emergency file. He promised to be back by early afternoon but I'm overcome by giddy anticipation.

This story contains elements of female domination, humiliation, degradation, corporal punishment and homosexuality. If that's not your thing go read something else. Dogshit the Bitch teaches the gospel Someone reading this with modern eyes might well question my sanity and the sanity of the man sucking my cock even more. They would also think that we were the same when we are very different. He is a masochist who loves being punished and abused by a sadistic woman.

Willow kneels on an easy chair, straddling a well-padded arm, left knee on the seat, right foot on the floor, bottom elevated to an ideal height. Sharing the same cushion, Carmen adopts a mirror-image stance; side by side they lean forward, bodies touching. Slender blond Willow, the taller of the two, is almost completely naked. By inclination a free-spirited girl, her simple summer frock discarded virtually the moment she arrived. Currently wearing no more than a silver ankle chain, high heels and a cheeky expression, she wriggles her bum in anticipation and grips Carmen's hand.

Emma struggled against her restraints for the hundredth time. "P-Please! Please, Professor, let me..." A sharp sting on her back made her stop talking. "Little Princess Doll..." He started, his hand gently caressing her bare ass where he had just slapped her. "How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?" "I'm sorry! I..." Another slap and she bit her lip. His hand resumed his caressing of her stinging skin.

He arrived. After a short chat of small talk, and me trying to get information, I was given one decision for the night. Do I want to partake in the decisions or have them made for me? I yielded control. So he made the decision to play first and talk after, so we headed to the bedroom. I was ordered to sit. I sipped my wine while watching him unpack his bag.

The bar that night was fairly empty. The music played softly in the background, drowning out the individual conversations. The patrons were spread out, some tucked into dark booths while others lounged in pairs on the soft chairs in the center of the room. I was sitting alone at the bar top, nursing a whiskey and water. Life had been weighing me down and I had hoped to escape with a drink and maybe take someone home.

I look down at the woman at my feet, stroking her hair, admiring the yearning in her eyes as she looks up at me. She kisses my leg, rubbing her hands up my body as I stroke her face and down her neck. She is in a lovely red piece of lingerie that I picked out for her, accentuating her beautiful breasts, leaving open every point of access for play. She is a fucking goddess and has put her pleasure in my hands.

He relaxed against the headboard. His thighs spread wide with one knee bent. His cock was long and firm sprouting from a nest of dark curls, beneath his arousal hung his large, heavy sac. Submissively, I crawled between his legs my eyes downcast just the way he liked. First, I inhaled his strong, musky scent. The scent guaranteed to make me wet. I nuzzled his sac, gently suckling each testicle. His lips parted and he began to pant but he said not a word.