Today you wanted to spruce yourself up a bit before dealing with Perry. You fetched your black patent leather boots, put on your rubber vest and slipped on your thin, smooth leather gloves. Then you went to the playroom.
He was awake and sitting on the mattress with a defiant expression on his face. ‘I don't know your intentions, Sir,’ he said, with surprising firmness. He had probably thought carefully about exactly what to say.
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STRANGERS IN A PARKING LOT
I wrote this almost twenty years ago and it shows. But there are aspects of this I like, even if it’s rough about the edges. Hope folks here do as well.
As posted to the LemmyNSFW community for Erotica!
https://lemmynsfw.com/post/1717361
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I wrote this almost twenty years ago and it shows. But there are aspects of this I like, even if it’s rough about the edges. Hope folks here do as well. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-= It was a shabby little parking lot, with a line of cheap bulbs strung from a cable fixed atop polls set in the ground to mark its gloomy boundary. By the entrance, an empty payment shack stood, its Plexiglas window covered in harsh graffiti. The door to this cabin was held closed by a mere padlock. Above that, a curled tin lamp fixture illumined a small grim spot below, exposing cracked and oil stained pavement. Only a few old cars were in residence, speckled about like sparse vegetation on a desert plain. Jessie stood at the entrance too nervous to step in yet unwilling to leave. Smoking a roach, she tugged at a red velvet neckband worn just for this occasion, then bit the nail until it was a stubby mess. She let out a quiet sigh and flicked the last of that funny cigarette into the lot. Upon hitting the ground, a small shower of satisfying sparks erupted. What the fuck am I doing here? She thought, angry with herself for being so stupid. But she knew what she was doing there, she just didn’t like the answer to that question. It was too distressing to contemplate. I should go, she told herself. Now! Yet the girl didn’t turn around and face the opposite way. Her legs didn’t shuffle toward the other direction. Instead, she just stood there, in a mild marijuana haze, watching the last remnants of red fade from that dying cherry. Then, as if beyond decision, she smoothed down her skirt, strode inside, and it was as if she had known all along that she would. Ambling around the shack, Jessie lazily wondered what kind of creature would consent to work in such a miserable place. Peeking inside the window, she saw photographs of nude women ripped from old porno magazines and tacked to the walls. Tame by Internet standards, it only made the sight that much more depressing. Is that what’s meant by generational divide? Disgusted, she backed away and turned her attention elsewhere. Little things on the ground loomed at her; a cigarette butt here, a rusty beer can there. Meandering about the lot, she came upon the grimy carcass of an old car, stripped of tires. It wasn’t very interesting. Turning to look back at the entrance, where only moments before she had stood, Jessie considered the pornographic posters in that shack. Then she noticed her hands trembling and heart rapidly pounding. Her belly clenched and to distract herself, she began nibbling at another nail. Its cuticle was soon sheared from her finger. I’ve got the get the fuck out of here! Hyperventilating, panic overtook her senses. Manic thoughts raced by. She hunched over, hands to knees, expecting to vomit. What if he has a knife? What if he has a gun? And then, the worst fear of all. What if he rapes me? Hand to mouth stifled the impulse to puke and she stood upright to bolt away. All this was too much to handle. She had to flee. Yet, the open entrance paradoxically seemed to block her way. What if he arrived just as she crossed onto the sidewalk? Jessie glanced around its border, searching for another egress of escape. Filthy steel barriers obstructed the perimeter. She could scramble over them, but then what of her skirt? Maybe I want him to rape me. A truly disgusting notion. That thought had been too much to bear. She had to leave. Which is good, because though she had put herself in this crazy situation at least now she’d get out. Alive! Survival instincts had finally resurfaced. Like being paralyzed in a dream, that first step forward breaks the spell. So she strode toward the entrance and began that short trek to freedom. It would only take seconds and once on the sidewalk she could walk away as if nothing had happened. Or run. Running might be the smarter move. Then, rumbling and wheels crushing gravel and bright headlights emerged, a car turning into the lot. Those beams disoriented her. She stopped, a pit in her stomach tumbling downward, as she gawked at those twin bulbs coming in. Resignation and dread swooned dizzyingly. She’d have no chance to run after all. But didn’t she deserve this? Like a cow to slaughter, she’d come here of her own free will. It was kind of sexy in a sick way. Jessie’s nipples pressed out from her white cotton blouse, embossed on that cloth like impressions on a wax figure. Her heart pounded; her cheeks flushed; her hands trembled; and her breath rasped in short, rapid, heaves. The straps to her purse slid off her shoulder and it fell. She hadn’t noticed it plop to the ground, yet an image of that bag, slumped over on the pavement, seemed ominously prophetic. Maybe that’s how they’ll find her. In a pool of blood, collapsed in the muck, naked and used. The latest cast off by a deranged serial killer. Her ID was in there. Well, she reasoned, when the police eventually find her mangled body, at least they’d know who it was that had been left to rot in this sorry place. But there was a catch. She’d also put that single dollar he’d demanded in a special pocket just for him. And he’d want that. Of course the creep would dig through that pocketbook afterward. So, if he took the dollar, why not her ID too? He might then sever her hands, feet, and head to throw off forensics. Lunatic murderers do that sort of thing all the time. Don’t they? She’d seen it on TV. Please God, let me live! It seemed too morbid a thought. Isn’t this a bit melodramatic? Her eyes remained fixed downward, examining that purse; considering a list of dwindling options. Glancing up, those blinding headlights prevented her from seeing through into the front window. She’d like to know the face of her killer to be. Then the engine stopped. And in that assault of silence, her belly plummeted like the first big drop on a roller coaster. Jessie loved that stupid amusement park ride. So she steeled herself with gritted teeth behind a warped little grin for what might follow. ~~~***~~~ It had all seemed like a bit of kinky Internet fun. Well, maybe it had begun before the ‘net farce with el creepo. Perhaps it had started a year prior, when she’d had that short relationship with Adam. He was older, in his early thirties, still young and hot but experienced enough to take her places in the sexual landscape she hadn’t imagined possible. The very first time, he’d tied her wrists to his bedpost with a silk kerchief. And, though scared, she’d let him do it. In fact, it was the fear she’d found most alluring. Those intense orgasms he gave were almost beside the point. But then, after only a few weeks of crazy sex, his employer transferred him to another city and he was gone. They’d promised to keep in touch. He’d see her on business trips. Perhaps she could move. But then he stopped calling and she’d received an email saying he’d met someone. You’re young, he’d explained. You’ll meet many more men. But she didn’t. Instead, there had been a string of illicit one-night encounters with mere boys met at parties and bars. They’d not known how to satisfy her unique lusts. Jessie’s latest encounter had been like the rest. At work, there was this cute guy who kept coming in for morning cappuccino. He sold computers in the mall. Her friend, Nancy, who worked at a lingerie store, had dug around and discovered his name. Benjamin, as it turns out. Not that it mattered, because Jessie had made an absolute fool of herself. Hi, she’d said, frothing milk. Hey, he replied and then asked for a little more chocolate please. “It’s in the back closet,” she said, gazing into his eyes. He cluelessly returned the stare and didn’t seem to understand. So she turned off the frother, set down the milk, and leaned over the counter to get close. “Come with me,” she whispered. “You need me to help you get chocolate?” “I. Uh,” Jessie paused. “No, of course not.” She’d not needed to restock chocolate out front, but after saying that it seemed impossible not to go. So she rushed to the back anyway, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “There’s a line!” Marvin, her dork of a co-worker called. She ignored him, went in, and sat on a milk crate with both hands to her face. A light knock came at the door and Jessie pushed it ajar to peek through the opening, expecting Marvin’s bitchy complaint. But, to her surprise, it was Benjamin knocking. “What’s going on?” He asked. “It’s just that…” Her words trailed off and she peered up through bangs of dirty blond hair flowing down over her eyes. And there was that fear, that delicious nervous expectation. It was now or never. But he still had no idea. “Yes?” “I want to suck your cock,” she replied, matter of factly. “What?” “Get in here,” Jessie said, yanking him in the closet. She shut the door and fell to her knees. The ceramic tiles on the floor were hard and uncomfortable, which added an illicit thrill. She wrapped her arms around him, untucked his shirt from behind, and stroked lovely bare skin along his back. The crotch of his chinos was at her mouth, and she gazed up to his face. His eyes bulged, and he looked back down, trapped by indecision. “I,” he said, hesitating. “I have a girlfriend.” “I don’t care,” Jessie replied, and pressed her cheek against his pants to feel that exquisite hard cock. She pursed her lips and began blowing air against the cloth and his penis throbbed, trying to burst out. So she unzipped and helped his member escape. Then, without hesitation, her mouth was full of glorious cock. He arched into her and she took it deep, opening her throat as a line of drool dangled off her lip. “You’re crazy,” Benjamin said. But he didn’t pull out, so she sucked in reply. Unfortunately, before his slick cum could fill her mouth and roll along her tongue, before she’d had the chance to gulp his masculine pride, before she could complete that feminine conquest, there was a knock at the door. “What’s going on?” Marvin asked. “Go away!” Jessie yelled. “But we have customers!” “Fuck off, Marvin.” “I have to go,” Benjamin said, stuffing that beautiful penis into his pants and zipping back up. “But…” Jessie said, her composure wilting like a dying flower. He opened the door to Marvin, standing there in a company green apron that barely covered a blue Superman T-Shirt. Like nearly everything superdork wore, this idiotic attire wasn’t company approved either. There are nice white button down dress shirts they provide. But he always ignored that directive and somehow the store manager had never intervened. “Excuse me,” Benjamin said, and brushed past. “Can we get some service?” Someone called from the front. Marvin stepped in the closet as Jessie clamored to stand. “You want to see a movie?” Marvin asked like a puppy. “Are you kidding me?” “There’s a Bride of Franken-” “Not even if the survival of humanity depended on it.” She rushed out the door, wiping drool off her lip, and went to the counter where customers impatiently waited. Not taking no for an answer, Marvin pestered her again and again across their shift. She tried to ignore him. When it became unbearable, she threatened to file a sexual harassment claim to shut him up. Then he returned the favor, threatening to tell the store manager about her closet interlude. For the briefest second, she considered giving him a pity fuck. It’d be just a few minutes of utter revulsion. They’d get naked. And Marvin – in his pathetic almost certain virginity – would shove inside and pound arhythmically against her groin, flopping about like a dying mackerel on the planks of a small fishing boat. Then, before she knew it, he’d be done, confidently asking how it’d been for her. It was enough to make a lonely chick just up and quit. Still, the poor girl was young and horny. What she needed was a good hard fucking. Something Marvin couldn’t begin to comprehend. After arriving home that evening, she contemplated her woeful situation. Jessie had reached a point of utter despair. How could she ever find someone like Adam again? Someone with an articulate voice and the right forceful tone; someone who knew the kinds of kinky things she loved; someone whose presence made her knees swoon by his command, leaving a wet stain down the center of her camel toe embossed panties. She took out that laptop her parents had bought her two years before during a fruitless attempt at community college. Perusing the nastiest and most perverted porn sites available, she searched for a new fantasy to titillate those inner cravings. But it was all false illusion. She needed more. And that’s when she got the idea. Why not have some online fun? She created the anonymous email address [email protected] [[email protected]]. Then went to a personals site that specialized in kinky game play. Who cares what people think? She reasoned. Nobody will know. I won’t even tell them my first name. Maybe I’ll get lucky and really find someone. She was an island, alone in this world save for family and a few friends. And most of them lived on the other side of the country. They’d never learn this dirty little secret. It’s not like her roommates cared either. So she posted an advertisement: From: Spermbank Bitch sks Hard Cock to Teach Stiff Lesson. Reply if you’ve got what it takes to make my toes curl. Otherwise, fuck off. Messages poured into her inbox like the deluge of an electronic flash flood. Unfortunately, none of them interested her. Several men simply emailed close-up photos of their cocks and not a word more. A few others meekly asked if she would kindly be willing to meet. One sent her a photo of a pool of vomit, which for a moment did titillate. Then she got disgusted. Where is a man for me?!?! She moaned inwardly. But Jessie is a persistent girl. She kept resubmitting that advertisement to no avail. This was no Goldilocks situation, where suitors a little too meek, and others a little too harsh, lined up for their appointed rejections. It became clear that there might never be that one day when the right someone from the precious middle would finally respond. No, like everyone else she’d fucked that year, these notes came from those wholly inappropriate to her needs. But then, just as hope seemed lost, a most curious email arrived from someone who called himself straightshooter. It said simply: From: Straightshooter To: spermbank I've seen your postings for weeks. Haven't you found someone to fill you up YET? At first she was annoyed. Who is this asshole? She thought. Jessie considered inviting him for a hook-up only to have her Italian friend Vinnie beat the shit out of him. But, unlike the stereotype, Vinnie is kind of a pussy. And he lived three thousand miles away. So she decided to ignore the jerk. But that message kept drawing her eyes back to the screen, a twisted dispatch reminding her of unfulfilled need. She decided to test him and wrote back: I'm choosy. Definitely not interested in a dickless twerp like you. A day later she checked email and found his reply: From: Straightshooter To: spermbank As you read this, think of cock sliding in and out and in and out. You're hunched over a car, fingers splayed across its grimy hood. The small of your back curves in desire, while a hand grabs your hair pushing and pulling and yanking and tugging. Ass bumps against groin, groin against ass, again and again and again. Your nails scratch up that old paint like bear claws on bark. Then, you gasp as a finger reaches around to rub your little pussy button. Would you like to be fucked like that little cunt? Jessie closed the laptop and marched away in shock. Trying to ignore those frightening emotions roiling inside her, she decided to heat water. Yes, some Twinings would help calm her down. In the kitchen, a little teapot sat on the stove while she impatiently tapped a foot. Then, in a huff, she hurried back to the laptop and ripped its clamshell open. “Fuck you!” She yelled at the screen. And, as if that hadn’t been enough, she repeated herself for effect. “Fuuuuuuck you!” The screen said nothing so she slammed the lid back down. Presently, she had an idea for the perfect sarcastic reply, so she opened it again. Then, she closed it and re-opened it once more. She let out an angry humph and started to turn away, but peeked back at the screen and thought of another snide reply. A twisted smirk formed. As she considered that epiphany, Jessie’s hand unconsciously began to explore under her skirt. It reached its destination and her fingers began to swirl and whirl and twirl in the exact right place those panties covered. But her attention was on that screen. She sat down on an old wood chair in her room, by that crappy little student desk, staring at the reply button on screen contemplating how to word a nasty message. Then her thighs tightened from a wave of pleasure and they closed on her hand like a pair of scissors. “What the fuck!?” She’d been masturbating! And it’d felt good. At least her roommates weren’t around. It’s not like anyone saw. So Jessie pulled her panties down and applied greater pressure, fingers separating that cleave of her nether lips, rubbing her little lump directly. Now she was committed to the act and there was no stopping. “Oh my God!” She popped buttons along her blouse until those lovely little breasts were fully exposed. Her belly and thighs and calves clenched in delicious waves of pleasure from increasing stimulation. She reached under her bra and pinched a nipple to the point of pain, swirling and twirling that nub between her legs. Then, head down, hair drooping, stomach cramping, she finally let out a wail as oblivion followed; a climax so strong she thought she might pass out from delight. The exertion left her heaving and covered in sweat. Jessie reclined with a blissfully stupid grin on her face. A drop of perspiration fell off her nose just as the teapot squealed. And his message loomed into view, demanding attention. So she’d responded with a single word: Yes. Across two weeks there were more emails, each increasingly aberrant, each, adding erotic charge. He demanded she masturbate at every opportunity, but not to orgasm. She was only allowed climax at his command. This game was a maddening combination of excitement and frustration. Every day, as she tempted yet denied that urge, his hold over her will amplified. Next, she was to open a post office box. He mailed her a blood red satin elastic neckband and commanded she wear this when playing. Each night she’d stretch it on, that soft cloth snugly wrapping her throat with twisted erotic implications. Then she’d open that laptop to receive another command. She was to wear that band around her neck at work and masturbate in the bathroom. But not orgasm. He made her take photographs in the stall, her engorged vulva in the foreground, the floor out of focus behind. She had to pinch a nipple until she cried in pain and then take a picture of that areola hard and tender. Finally, he ordered that she use her cellphone to video shaving her pubic hair and email it back. And she did, stroking her juicy little twat on video to give him an additional thrill. It was as if, without having met, he read her mind. Digging into the depths of her sexual depravity he could pry loose corrupt inner fantasies from a barely remembered dreamscape and bring them to life. She’d masturbated countless times yet had not one orgasm for twelve days. A breeze up her skirt would set off a sensual jolt up her spine. She was constantly aroused, each night returning home from work with damp and smelly underwear. At just the slightest touch on that now much too sensitive clit, she’d arch uncontrollably, her body begging for release. At that point of ultimate weakness and frustration, he sent a command that nearly derailed the game. Yet, in retrospect, was also crucial to making her accept that tryst. From: Straightshooter To: spermbank Who is the most pathetic loser in your life? You know him, even if you don’t want him. But he wants you. And he’s going to have your mouth. For the low, low, price of just one dollar. At a point when he least suspects, you are to offer a blowjob. Make certain he accepts, like every good little whore should. And when he spews that load all over your tongue, you are to savor his taste knowing I’ve pimped you out to someone even more desperate than you. Gargle it like mouthwash, spermbank. And swallow every last drop. Don’t bother writing back until this task is accomplished. I want specifics in your next report. Ugh! Jessie slammed the laptop shut. What a creep. Of course there was only one person who fit that description. Marvin. And no way would she do that for him. She flopped down in bed and considered finding another online play partner. This game had gone far enough. She didn’t even want to masturbate! Talk about a buzz kill. She fell asleep dejected and lonely once again. Two days later, she and superdork had just closed the store and were cleaning up before ending their shift. Today, he’d worn a wretched mustard yellow T-shirt emblazoned with the word ATARI. The boy seemed to delight in turning off women. “Batman or Superman?” He asked, mopping the floor. “What?” “I mean,” he explained, “would you choose Batma-” “Shut up.” “Working with you,” he said, holding that mop and gazing up to the ceiling, “it’s like you can’t even have a conversation!” “Because that was the stupidest question ever.” “Each has his good points,” Marvin continued. “Batman is dark, moody, the silent type. But Superman is superstrong and all good and light.” Jessie stood by the counter with sponge in hand and considered her options. There was a knife in the drawer, it could cut and slash and gouge. And the base to that blender seemed heavy enough to smash his cranium. But she opted for one that wouldn’t land her in prison and threw the sponge. “Hey!” He said as it hit him on the chest, leaving a dirty wet spot on the center of his green apron. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?” With a snarl, Jessie ambled toward him, confident and sure. Alarm came to his face and he backed away. But she didn’t relent and soon they stood face to chin. Yet, even though he was a good five inches taller, by his expression it seemed as though she towered above. “You,” she said, poking his chest, “are a pathetic worm.” He stepped back and she inched forward, a dance of intimidation and fear as she nudged him by jab and prod toward the rear closet. “What is wrong with you?” She pushed him in and closed the door behind. “Please don’t hurt me,” he whimpered. “You know,” she said with a scowl, “that I will never, ever, go out on a date with you.” “Yes,” he admitted, with a sad and pathetic sulk. “But,” she continued. “This is your lucky day.” His face scrunched up in confusion. “Just this once,” she said. “Right now. At this exact moment. I am going to suck your cock.” “What!?!” “You do want your cock sucked, don’t you?” “You’re weird,” he said, trembling. “You have no idea,” she replied. “Put your hands behind your back. Don’t you dare touch me. I run this show. Understand?” He reached behind for the doorknob to escape, but she swatted his hand away. “Please let me go.” Jessie dropped to her knees in reply. She took his hands and set them behind his back on the wood of that door. As he quivered, she unzipped. He shut his eyes tightly and let out a little groan as she pursed her lips and blew air into the gap. Marvin’s head tipped up and his fingers clawed at wood. Reaching in, she pulled his member out from the flap of Six Million Dollar Man briefs. My God, this kid was a dork. A regular Shaggy, tall and beanpole thin, with a little scrawny of beard at his chin. And, like him, Marvin was cowardly, frightened into submission by the slightest cheap thrill. Maybe she looked a little more Velma than Daphne, but a Freddie was more her type. So why was she on her knees in front of this twerp about to suck cock at the behest of some online Scooby Doo? She imagined that anonymous dog’s face, sitting behind a laptop, reading her detailed report, with a creepy and twisted grin as he snickered at her predicament. But this was no time for long deliberation. Marvin’s hand was already inching toward that doorknob again. She ferociously swatted it away a second time. “Bad boy,” she said, wagging a finger no. Then she steeled herself to the task. His expectant cock throbbed in front of her. She was pleasantly surprised to notice a generous length and girth to the member. It turned out there was one part of him not so pitiful after all. She pursed her mouth and tentatively took its tip in. “Please don’t bite,” he begged. Jessie pulled out, shook her head and sighed. “Just imagine you’re climbing into a roller coaster,” she said. “But I hate roller coasters,” he whined. “Shut the fuck up,” she replied and shoved it back in her mouth. At least he’d showered recently; it didn’t taste bad. Rock hard, the veins along his shaft swiftly pulsated to a rapid heartbeat. This little boy needed her loving care. She pursed and gently sucked, her tongue exploring the sensitive bell of his cock. “Oh!” His knees knocked uncontrollably. Going down deeper, she took more of him in and let her throat open. He shivered and squealed and let out a little shriek. Then, getting a good seal with her lips, she applied plenty of suction and pulled. The poor boy nearly collapsed to the floor. “Like that, don’t you,” she teased, gazing up into his eyes. His lips quivered in reply. As he peered back down, Jessie took him in again and got to work. Legs shuddering, this time he grabbed the doorknob to steady himself and she didn’t bother to swat. Then, getting a good rhythm, she bopped her mouth along his beanpole, slurping and sucking and gulping that cock as his face scrunched tightly, eyes squinting, his head twisting and turning back and forth against that wood door uncontrollably. There was a little bitterness. Then, a big squirt and her tongue caught a stream of slimy residue. The consistency of egg white, salty and bitter, his jism filled her mouth in spurts. His thighs buckled and cock throbbed with each release. It drooled off her lip, down her chin, and onto the official green apron she wore. Soon, he was done. “Holy shit!” He screeched, eyes bulging, knees knocking, every bit of him trembling in delight. Jessie’s tongue was covered with the boy’s slick masculine fluid. Remembering her orders, she swished the stuff around in her mouth, tipped her head back, and gargled. “What are you doing?” Staring into his eyes, she proudly swallowed it all in one gulp. “Mouthwash,” she replied. “What. The. Fuck.” His jaw dropped. Standing up tentatively, Jessie’s tender knees were red and raw from that hard floor. There was one last task she had to fulfill with him and her cheeks burned with embarrassment at the thought of asking. All she needed was one measly dollar. But, even though she’d already given the goods, she hadn’t told him the price yet. Talk about bad business practice. “One more uhhh,” she said, stammering. “Thing.” She winced and her head drooped. There was an uncomfortable silence. “Yeah?” He asked. “Whatever,” she replied, utterly humiliated. Jessie opened the closet door and rushed past, leaving him with the task of stuffing his boyhood back into those childish underpants. “Get a move on!” Jessie called into the closet, annoyed with herself. “We have to finish cleaning.” Then she picked up the sponge and began wiping the counter. He came out with a sheepish grin, took the mop, and thankfully said nothing for once. The two finished, she locked up, and they stood at the front door. He didn’t seem to want to leave. “Marvin?” “Yeah?” He said awkwardly, obviously hoping for more. “There’s one last thing,” she continued, screwing up courage. “Name it,” he replied with a grandiose smile. “Uh,” she stammered. “Well. Um. I need.” “What?” “Payment.” “Are you kidding me?” He asked, shocked. “You’re a prostitute?” “Marvin,” she said sighing. In that disgrace, a crack on the sidewalk became fascinating. “You didn’t say this would cost money,” he complained. “I’ve never paid for sex!” “You’ve never had sex.” “You know,” he said, stuttering. “Yes I have had sex. And fuck you too!” “Come on,” she persisted. “Just one dollar.” “So you’re a cheap whore then.” “Yeah,” she said as her shoulders drooped, wanting to facepalm. “The absolute cheapest.” She reached up and grabbed the collar of that wretched ATARI T-shirt. “Just pay me a dollar.” “Hey!” He said, pushing her away. “That’s my favorite shirt!” Stepping back he gave her a peculiar look, then shrugged. “Fuck this, I’m outta here.” And Marvin rushed away. It was over. She’d done it. Mostly. Christ, she’d sucked Marvin’s cock at the behest of a stranger over the Internet! How fucked up is that? But she needed that dollar. Still, it’s only a buck. She could afford that. Clearly, the dork couldn’t. She’d just tell straightshooter he’d paid her. Problem solved. Upon arriving home, Jessie pursed her lips closed good and tight lest curious roommates smell cockbreath. But they ignored her. Then she rushed in her room and wrote that detailed report she’d been tasked to complete. After pressing send, she went to bed and stroked that sensitive clit, careful not to let herself cum. Oh, such delicious agony! To the brink, again and again and again. Masturbating all night, the poor girl was unable to sleep. The next morning she checked email and found a short reply. He’d congratulated her strength and resolve. But there was another command. This one sent her tummy fluttering in fear and anticipation. Shivers flowed up and down her spine. She couldn’t help but touch herself to an almost instant orgasm. No! She’s not allowed. In his note, she was ordered to wear that red satin neckband and go to a dilapidated little parking lot on the edge of town. This evening. There, she’d be his collared slut. To be used, body and soul – by this as yet unmet man – for an amorous and kinky rendezvous. And that’s how she found herself alone, at night, waiting to meet an Internet sicko. Someone who wasn’t even a proper acquaintance. To play out this dangerous fantasy in real life. There, they’d be strangers in a parking lot. ~~~***~~~ Those blinding headlights came in and stopped by the derelict car, illuminating its grubby hood. Jessie backed away until she bumped into the shack, her clean skirt now soiled by dust and oily dirt from its grimy surface. In panic, her hands pressed against the coarse wood from behind as if she might claw her way through. She tugged at the padlock, hoping to tear it from the door and escape inside. But it held. How stupid, she realized. There’d have been no way to lock the shack from the inside anyway. It was like a scene out of every slasher movie. The young girl, who just wanted to get fucked by her hot boyfriend, instead flees from the killer into a closet. But that never works. The girl’s throat is cut from ear to ear, blood gushing down her chest in throbbing waves to the beat of her dying heart. Jessie glanced left and right for a way to run, the exit of that parking lot right next to her. But the thought he might shoot provoked paralysis. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, dry and rough like sandpaper. A finger picked out splinters from the door’s rough wood behind, until one shard pierced skin. She pressed down hard to feel something – anything – until it burrowed inward. Then the car door opened and she considered dropping to her knees to beg forgiveness. But a figure emerged quite unlike what she had expected. In their email exchanges, he had told her he was young and athletic, a former college football quarterback and all around big jock. He told her that he had what it took to make her squeal in delight, all she must do was follow his every command without hesitation. Instead, the man who came into view was wiry slim, with a cheap dress jacket and thick plastic glasses. He was older than he’d claimed to be. However, at least he held no knife or gun. Which was a relief. “Jessie?” She didn’t answer and continued glaring at the pavement. “Jessie,” he repeated, with sternness, “look at me.” Their eyes met. “You’re nothing like what you said,” she complained. “And yet, you’re everything,” he replied with wry mocking. “Not fair, is it?” She stared at the ground again, not answering. He came closer and there was alcohol on his breath. His finger reached out and hooked her skirt. He tugged. Knees buckling, she shuffled forward until they reached the hood of that derelict auto, awash in light from his car’s headlamps. The man ambled around behind her and the derelict’s grimy hood took center view. She stood, transfixed, contemplating a mass of imperfections along its surface. It felt as though her belly had jumped off a skyscraper and tumbled, pavement spinning ever closer. And she liked that sensation. “You know you want this,” he whispered into her ear from behind. “You, bent over. A cock. Sliding in and out. A stranger, using you like a cheap whore. Taking whatever he wants. And you, getting fucked like a good little slut.” “I have to go,” she said, gasping. “Do you really?” “Please let me go.” “I’m not stopping you,” he replied nonchalantly. “Walk away.” “Please…” “Or, unbuckle my belt.” He grabbed her hair and yanked her head. Peeking from the corner of her eyes she caught his gaze and her knees buckled. Then he let go and all she saw was that nasty old hood again. “I order you to remove my belt,” he commanded. “Now!” If she dashed away, he would probably be too slow to catch up. She was considering that possibility when he spun her to face him. His pants came into view and her roving hands were already unbuckling the belt. It turned out she couldn’t help herself. He then removed it from her fingers and gradually slid the leather strap out from the loops of his pants. “Good girl.” Had he said, ‘good girl?’ How demeaning. Her cheeks flushed from the offensive realization. But, as this distracted her, he whirled her to face the car and raised her skirt. Then began slowly unzipping. “Wait!” “On the hood.” “But, I-” He took her hair and yanked her head to the side again and their eyes locked together as she glanced sideways. In that moment, his words had force like she’d never experienced. His control set fire to her loins. This man wasn’t a jock, much less strong. Hell, he wasn’t even terribly cute. But there was a strange power to his gaze that burrowed into her like a hornet’s sting. Her palms reached out and hit the hood of that filthy dead car. “You want cock, do you?” He whispered into her ear, lightly stroking the small of her back. She moaned in reply. “So, you want my cock inside of you. Pushing. Thrusting. In and out and in and out.” “Yes,” came her quiet reply. “OK,” he said, with the tone of a shrug. She peeped to catch a glimpse from behind and just then he shoved her face onto the hood, its grime smearing across her cheeks. She tried to push up, elbows jutting out, blouse ruined. But she was pinned. His hardon pressed against her ass as she vainly wriggled and protested. “Do you still resist?” Rudely hunched over the car, entirely helpless, he slowly ran a finger up and down the cloth of her flower-print panties. Jessie moaned and her protestations abated. The friction of his finger increased as moistness infused the cloth, and he probed harder and harder. Christ, she wanted cock! He asked if this time she would follow his orders. “Yes,” She relented in a whisper. “Yes, what?” He yanked her head up and looked into her eye. “What!” She flinched at his yell, entirely confused by how to respond. An uncomfortable silence followed, threatening to pop the spell like a pin stuck into a balloon. But instead of telling her what to do or say, he slid those panties off her hips and they dropped past her knees to settle around her ankles. Then he unzipped her skirt and it swooshed down onto the ground in a heap by her feet. Yanking her up, he ordered her to remove her blouse and bra. She didn’t hesitate. Quickly unbuttoning and unhooking, she untangled both garments from her arms and handed them over. He took her skirt and panties from between her feet and tossed the bunch in his driver’s side window. They flopped onto the seat with a little whoosh. And she was entirely exposed to anyone who might walk by. Jessie shivered in fear and delight at the thought of a voyeur passing. “Where’s my dollar?” He asked. “In my purse,” she replied, falsely nonchalant. “And did he pay you that dollar?” “Yeah. Of,” she stammered. “Of. Uh. Of course!” Her cheeks flushed deep red. “I don’t think so,” he said. “You’re lying.” “Am not,” she hesitantly claimed. “You are an insolent little bitch,” he said and forced her to look first at the belt in his hand and then into his eyes. “You deserve to be punished, don’t you think?” He asked, annunciating each word with menace. “Shouldn’t a lying little bitch like yourself be punished before she gets her treat?” He shoved her face back down on to the hood, that belt lightly swaying along her ass, tantalizingly brushing her skin. This can’t be happening, she thought. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening! “You still do want cock, right? Shall I punish you so you can have cock?” There was a delicious pause of anticipation. “Yes,” she whispered. At that moment she relaxed and closed her eyes, resigned for what was to come. Her pussy was open, juices flowing, and she could not help but notice that this was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. He might kill her yet, but at least she’ll probably cum first. The first stroke from the belt hit her left butt-cheek. It stung like a motherfucker. She immediately tensed her legs and sucked in a deep breath through dry teeth. The next stroke went to her right butt-cheek, which hurt even more, and she let out a little shriek. Then, alternating one cheek after the next, he continued striking in quick succession until tears flowed. “Yes, WHAT, bitch?” He struck her again and again until her ass seared in pain. “I don’t know!” She screamed. “I promise I don’t know!” “Yes, Sir!” He replied. He struck her again even harder than before. “Yes, Sir,” she wailed back, humiliated and crying like a disobedient child. “Yes, Sir!” Everything slowed down and tunnel-vision overtook her. The blows ended and he dropped the belt to the ground. Her ass cheeks felt raw, stinging from even the slightest breeze. Slowly, the pain faded to a dull throb and Jessie’s sobs turned to whimpering. A slow pool of tears had formed on the hood, leaving a little clean spot amidst the grime. As awareness returned, the man’s hand explored between her legs where she remained moist and ready. Moans poured out forth as he worked two fingers inside. She wiggled her hips to force those fingers in and out, while his other hand gently stroked the welts on her tender ass. “Oh God, yes!” She cried. He removed the fingers and she heard him sniff. Then he reached around and placed them right at her mouth. “Clean,” he ordered. The humiliations never ceased. She took those fingers in and licked them, moving her head back and forth as if they were gloriously hard cock. She wanted it to be his cock. Then she heard the telltale sound of a zipper. “It’s time,” he said. Presently, the bell of his member lightly pressed from behind. She arched and raised her ass for ease of entry. But he pulled back ever so slightly and kept the tip of his cock right at the valley of her labia. “Please,” she begged. “Inside me!” He grabbed her hair and yanked. “What the fuck did I tell you before, cunt?” He growled into her ear. "Inside, Sir!” “Oh, you’ll get it,” he said with a snarl. “I promise.” Shoving her back down on the hood, her hair bounced and flowed around her face in waves. Back in position, he slid his hard cock along the crack of her ass, across her little hole, and up over her backside. Then, in the opposite direction, he dragged it back down, until it nearly entered her in that proper place and rubbed against her juicy clit. In this manner, he directed that cock very slowly and very gently up and down along her crack. Again and again and again. Anxiety built within her as Jessie realized his dark intent. She lifted her head from the hood peeked back into his eyes with a gasp of horror. “Sir,” she said, trembling. “I’m scared.” “Good,” he replied. “Prepare yourself.” Her knees let go and she fell to the hood, covering her face, breasts, and stomach in grime. She spread her legs. He was going to do this thing and like everything else that had happened she couldn’t stop it. So she closed her eyes tight, spread her legs as far as possible, and waited in delicious anticipation. Then, she felt it. At first, just a slight pressure as he aligned his cock to the wrong hole and gently pushed without lubrication. Her little bud of excretion slowly opened to that insistent burden and she grimaced as the discomfort intensified. He took his sweet time penetrating, and she felt every moment of that delightful agony. Slowly he pushed, not letting up, each little thrust forcing her diminutive hole open slightly more. Then, just as she could take it no more, it stretched fully apart and he plopped in. At that instant it was unbearable suffering. She yelped, eyes bulging. Uncontrollably, Jessie’s hand reached back to try and push him away. But she couldn’t reach him and he wouldn’t have stopped anyway. The tip of his cock, that phallus bell, was finally inside. But just. Thankfully, for a moment he didn’t move. But, as the discomfort subsided, she rearranged her hands back into position on the car and raised herself off the hood. Then he slowly pushed further inward. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth but still it was too much. “It’s too big, Sir,” she complained. “Oh, my God. It’s so fucking big!” He ignored her. Pulling out just a little bit, he slowly inched back in again. With each stab it became slightly easier until he formed a little rhythm. Soon, Jessie rocked and swayed willingly to his backside invasion. It was the first time a cock had been in her ass. She’d never felt anything like it, so different from stimulating her pussy. Adam once put his finger in there, but that hadn’t come close to the intensity of this. Her asshole burned from the friction. But the pain transformed into waves of sensuality. “Oh my God, yes!” She cried out. Then, losing control she yelled, “Fuck me! Fuck my ass!” His only reply to was push harder and faster. It was good, but there was something missing. Needing direct stimulation to orgasm, she was desperate for release. She took a hand out of position and reached between her legs. “May I please touch my clit, Sir?” “No cumming!” He ordered. “Whores don’t deserve it.” He grabbed her hands, pulling them behind by the wrists. She was not to be allowed masturbation while he fucked her ass. The thought of this denial drove her into a sexual frenzy as he took her mercilessly. Sometimes she gasped in pain, but more often the eruptions were from unexpected pleasure. She could feel his cock throb inside her bowels and she expected he would cum. The thought of his seed dripping out her ass and down between her thighs made her squeeze to clutch his cock and force an orgasm. But, before losing control, he violently pulled out. “Ow!” She complained. “Why did you stop?” “Jesus, you’re a shitty sub.” Yanking her up by the hair, he led her to the passenger side door of his car. Then, he opened it and shoved her in. At this point she was far too gone to even consider what risk this might entail, and instead was simply pleased it wasn’t over. He walked around to the driver’s side and got in. For the first time, they faced one another in the car’s interior light. She saw his older face, graying hair, and little double chin. She, only twenty years old, just ass-fucked by this man who must have been at least twice her age – and wanting even more! He glanced down at his cock. In the semi-darkness she could see very light stains up and down the shaft as it throbbed back and forth to his heartbeat. He grabbed her hair and forced her to look in his eyes again, but didn’t say a word. “Oh my God,” she cried in realization. “No!” “Little bitch, you’re the one who claims to be submissive.” “But-” “Jesus fucking Christ, but what?” “Oh my God,” she said. “Let your tongue worship my Chocolate sullied Jesus,” he replied, his eyes locked onto hers. Once again Jessie felt the power of a gaze she knew she could not resist. Then, she looked at his smudged and filthy cock. A palm reached behind her head and she took a deep breath as her head was pushed down ever closer. Smelling it, that disgusting odor, it reminded her of a squalid public lavatory. She thought she might vomit. But didn’t. Instead, the cock wormed its way into her mouth and she took it in like a good little slut. But it wasn’t without difficulty. Jessie writhed and wriggled in horror as that first taste washed over her. It’s not just that it was bad. It’s not just that the thought of it made her wretch. It was that she enjoyed it. That horrible tang alone might have been too much. But being forced to suck a shit-stained cock by a total stranger, in an open parking lot, seemed so… filthy perverted. She was his soiled little girl, helpless and humiliated. Never had she felt anything like this. Jessie loved and hated it at the same time. “Go more slowly,” he said. “Blow me like a close lover. With passion. With sensuality. As you clean that shit off my shaft with your tongue.” “Yes, Sir.” Came the burbling reply. Eagerly, Jessie dutifully cleaned, gradually washing every last bit with her tongue. And in the aberrant sexuality of it, she couldn’t help herself. The girl’s head began bopping up and down off his rod like a pogo stick. The stranger squirmed as she worked him over, closing him in to release. Soon, gushing slime erupted in her mouth, slick and warm and salty and bitter and stringy egg white. His legs jiggled and he moaned and she gulped down the first, second, and third gooey streams. Like a good little bitch she kept sucking and swallowing and massaging his balls until not a drop emerged. Jessie sat up, proud of the accomplishment, as a little stream of slimy dribble trailed down her chin. She gave him a quizzical look as he rearranged that cock back into his pants and zipped. “Get out,” he said. “What?” “You heard me, bitch. Get the fuck out.” He reached across her lap and opened the car door. This was the ultimate disgrace. He had whipped her, fucked her ass, and made her suck his shit-stained cock. And now he was kicking out of the car like a common little street whore. “Get out and sit your ass on the ground outside,” he barked. “That’s an order!” Jessie started crying while slowly sliding her bare ass off the leather cushion. Once out of the car, the girl fell to the ground, bare hips in the dirt, slivers of glass biting into skin. The car started. “You may cum now,” he said, leering out the car window with a sneer. Heading toward the exit, he tossed her clothes out the driver’s side window, to be left strewn about on that foul pavement. Then the car surged forward and plumes of dust rose out from behind. And he’d never even taken the dollar. It hadn’t really been earned, she supposed. There the girl stayed, asshole raw, those welts along her behind aching, that spicy dirt aftertaste in her just used mouth lingering, shocked and exhilarated by what she’d just done. Then her hand slid down to that special place between her legs and she rubbed furiously, as hard as she could, until the world was blotted out by a torrent of convulsions. She was covered in grime. Blood trickled down skin pierced by slivers of glass strewn about the pavement. But she didn’t care. Instead, she masturbated to gleeful climax once again. Finally satisfied after two weeks of denial, Jessie lay in the muck and gazed at the empty entrance to that rundown parking lot. Marveling in elation at every sick thing she’d done, it was as if she’d just stepped off that roller coaster, gleefully alive and ready to queue up for another ride once again. She let out a contented sigh. Then, standing up, she teetered on unsteady feet to collect her purse and clothes. I wonder if he’ll let me see him again, she thought absently, stepping into that stained skirt to cover her naked and abused body.
ONE LOVING MOTHER
I have this Mastodon friend who likes incest porn. Which, believe it or not, is the most popular genre at Literotica, where this story is hosted. So I promised a post on that topic and here it is.
This is a five part series with each part linked in the post below. Hosted at the LemmyNSFW community for Erotica:
https://lemmynsfw.com/post/1677749
#NSFW #erotica #writtenporn #eroticart #storyporn #writtenporn #eroticfiction #literotica
@girdhar
OK. So I have this Mastodon friend who likes incest porn. Which, believe it or not, is the most popular genre at Literotica. So, here’s the rest of that short mother-son series: Chapter 2 [https://www.literotica.com/s/one-loving-mother-ch-02] Chapter 3 [https://www.literotica.com/s/one-loving-mother-ch-03] Chapter 4 [https://www.literotica.com/s/one-loving-mother-ch-04] Chapter 5 [https://www.literotica.com/s/one-loving-mother-ch-05]
Back to Nature
By Remittance Girl
Good short erotic fiction. And Remittance Girl is pretty well known in the erotica scene.
See it at the new LemmyNSFW Eritica community!
https://lemmynsfw.com/post/1654523
#NSFW #Erotica #eroticfiction #eroticwriting #writtenporn #sexystory #erotic #storyporn #eroticart
Red Lace Trilogy
Three stories in one. About 25k words, so novella length. But good!
https://www.literotica.com/s/red-lace-trilogy
As seen on the new Erotica community at LemmyNSFW!
https://lemmynsfw.com/c/erotica
#NSFW #erotica #writtenporn #storyporn #eroticstory #fiction #fucktion #eroticfiction #literotica
May I Buy That For You?
Here's a story I wrote some time ago. It's got a hook up with a stranger, featuring adultery and anal sex. The story is a bit less than 5k words long, so a fairly quick read. Hope folks like it!
https://lemmynsfw.com/post/1446869
#NSFW #erotica #anal #analsex #assfucking #adultery #writtenporn #eroticfiction #hookup #proposition
Here’s a story I wrote some time ago. It’s got a hook up with a stranger, featuring adultery and anal sex. The story is a bit less than 5k words long, so a fairly quick read. Hope folks like it! - AR One mid-Friday afternoon, Lauren encountered him while window-shopping at the mall in front of a lingerie store. She should have been at work. Instead, she’d taken a late lunch, which somehow continued on in that lazy fashion of all guilty pleasures. Her boss would certainly be wondering why she hadn’t returned. She should be concerned. Like most everyone, that job was a necessity. But, eyeing a lacey black thong hung about the hips of a revealing mannequin and displayed in that store window left a profound longing. Why wasn’t that on her? And when was the last time she had felt her man’s breath pulse through something so light and so beautiful and so sexy before he slowly pulled it down her legs, swept it by her knees, brushed it past her ankles, and removed it over a pair of black high-heeled stilettos? Why hadn’t her man, her husband, found and bought this delicate thing, and, in the privacy of an intimate setting, had her wear it so he could greedily tear it off at just the right moment? How long had it been since she had felt his touch in that way? Much, much, too long. It was enough to make a horny girl cry. A flash of movement along the window reflected an unrecognized shape. She turned as a gentleman wearing a smart business casual tan suit and good handmade shoes lightly brushed past her, bumping an elbow. This minor event yanked her back to reality. Giving the man a harsh stare, she marveled at his lack of reaction. Most men would have shrunk from such a nasty gaze. But not him. No, he was steady and calm and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me,” he said with unwarranted confidence. Lauren’s jaw clenched in annoyance and frustration. She continued that piercing look, as if by doing so he might wilt away like an unwatered daisy. But he smiled wryly back, cocking his head to the side with measured curiosity. The staring contest persisted. Who the fuck was this man to invade her privacy as she lingered in front of a lingerie shop? Why did he not simply leave after she had commanded him to do so with that deadly gaze? How rude! “You have beautiful eyes,” he said. Something melted deep within her core and as her eyes lowered, those conservative and respectable black mid-heeled pumps came into view. “Thank you,” she whispered in reply. “You seem to like that garment in the window," he said, his eyes glancing at the lace underwear. “May I buy that for you?” “I can buy it for myself,” she said with consternation, as their eyes met again. He examined her smart business attire from top to bottom, eyes lingering where they should not. She wore a cashmere-wool business jacket, white button down blouse, and black skirt down to her knees. Proper attire for the department she managed at a nearby insurance agency. “Of course you can,” he replied. “The question is, may I?” The man leaned forward with that cocky grin and his nostrils flared. Embarrassed, she examined her shoes again and felt a strange electricity develop. It was as if the entire mall had emptied and no one but the two remained. Her breath quickened and palms went damp. She knew what she should say. Appreciated how her husband might react had he known the way she felt right now. But when was the last time a man’s presence had stirred such emotions? This realization gnawed at her. His hand reached toward her and brushed a strand of hair aside. She gasped. What had he done? Who was this stranger to invade her space and touch her in that way? His finger trailed down her jaw line to the tip of her chin, and with a knuckle he lifted her head until they were once again eye to eye. Her belly clenched in a way that makes women sigh and her thighs fidgeted back and forth. “Yes,” she whispered. They went into the store. His expensive shoes click-clacked confidently against the marble floor as he strolled up to a sales woman. Lauren followed behind, hands clasped behind her back. He said something and pointed to the lace underwear. The clerk sized her by eye and walked away to find the merchandise. He paid at a register as she stared at the floor ashamed and excited. “Would you like a bag, sir?” “She’ll wear it out,” he replied. What? She thought. How presumptuous! Lauren’s face revealed the anger of that inner voice. But once again his gaze destroyed that composure indignation had engendered. Holding the lace panties out to her, she took the clothing. And, after a deep breath, she composed herself with a nod and went to the changing room. Behind those closed doors there was a moment of sanity. She resolved to somehow sneak past this man and rush back to work, where she was supposed to be anyway. But that lace thong thrilled her. Reaching under her skirt, she slipped off a pair of sensible underwear perfect for a boring day at the office. As she stuffed those old panties in her purse, she found its cloth damp from anticipation. It startled her just how powerfully she had been affected by this illicit exchange. Committed to the act, she spread out the new thong and stepped into each hole one by one, then pulled it up underneath her skirt until it fit snuggly around her waist. She found the lace unbearably sexy against her skin. Her fingers roamed across its bumpy surface and she felt that tuft of pubic fur underneath. Stroking, she explored up and down and around and around and her knees immediately buckled. Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded in her chest, and she knew she’d stroll out and meet that man wearing the sexy undergarment he’d bought her. Lauren stepped out of the changing room. There he stood by the sales desk, confidently waiting, hands in pockets, thumbs looped around his belt. His dress jacket was open and she marveled at the trim shape hidden under a white button-down dress shirt. She sucked air through teeth at the sight and strolled toward him. He took her elbow. They exited the store and sauntered down the main hall arm in arm. Nervous of being caught, she glanced back and forth and up and down searching for anyone she might know. But it was off hours and nobody seemed to recognize her. Then they were finally outside, and he directed her toward the parking lot. “Where are you taking me?” “To my apartment,” he replied nonchalantly. She gasped. This stranger she had just met intended to take her to his apartment and she was following his lead? What the fuck was she thinking? What if he’s dangerous? A serial killer? A woman beater? A scoundrel? Well, by definition he’s definitely a scoundrel, Lauren wryly noted. Then came the most frightening thought of all. What if I fall for him? They weaved around cars until reaching a convertible Mercedes something or other. She didn’t know much about cars. Then he opened the passenger side door and helped her in, like a true gentleman should. Soon enough he started the car they rode out of the lot onto the street. Grasping her hand, their fingers intertwined, as her hair freely billowed about in the wind. She examined objects passing by to avoid his powerful gaze. But he yanked her hand and she peeked back out of the corner of her eyes. He brought her palm to the inseam of his pants. His bulge nearly burst through cloth and as she fondled him her mouth parted to release a slight whimper. After a few miles they were downtown. They arrived at a large apartment building and he drove down into the depths of its parking lot. The car weaved around until he found a spot and the engine went off. Reaching out to stroke her cheek, their eyes locked once again. “Take me there,” she panted. He stepped out of the car with a smooth and gallant motion and opened her door, lifting Lauren out by the hand. They walked to the elevator quietly, their steps echoing in the darkness. There was a ding and its doors opened. They stepped inside and he pressed a button. As soon as the doors shut, he shoved her against the wall with ferocity that was both frightening and exhilarating. Pinning her hands above her head, he came in close and they kissed. The violence of it had shaken her but his lips were gentle. She parted her mouth for his tongue and he probed inward and caressed. Their lips locked in a rhythmic embrace, smacking and pecking and licking. His mouth trailed down, nibbling her neck until in that wantonness she lost all sense of reality. Then the bell rang again and those doors opened to a hallway. Everything slowed to a crawl and it seemed she had left her body. As if she were watching a movie about some woman who had met and followed a stranger to his apartment for a carnal rendezvous. The kind that always ends in disaster. He and that woman sauntered arm in arm until they reached a door and entered an apartment. It was a large two-floor loft with French windows overlooking a beautiful city skyscape. The man in this movie was well off. But then, good production values in film always demands that - leading men are never without means. Once he closed the door, she was pinned against it and they kissed once again. The force of it shocked her with a snap back into awareness. It was she, not some actress, who had stepped into that apartment. She was here, looking out her own eyes. And this was not a celluloid fantasy projected on some screen in a dark room to an audience of spectators. She was letting this stranger do these things to her. No, she was doing these things with a stranger. It was a dizzying realization. His hand wandered down the small of her back and lightly stroked her lower spine. The other found its way up to her cheek, down along her neck, and over the buttons of her blouse, surveying by touch that line of cleavage underneath. A winding built within her. Its tension gradually became overwhelming. Her thighs pressed like scissors, deliciously rubbing that lace garment in between. They kissed and she moaned and his tongue explored ever further. She closed her eyes just as his fingers popped the first button open on her blouse. She thought she might explode right there and then. Her chest was soon exposed down to the skirt. He tugged the blouse free from its tucking and it flowed down her arms to collapse on the floor in a heap. Reaching around, he unclasped the hooks of her brassiere. She panted as he removed it. His fingers then took the skirt’s zipper and soon she had nothing on but that sexy lace underwear he’d bought her. He took her by the shoulders, turned her, rudely shoved Lauren against the door. Her hands slammed its wood, her elbows splayed out, and her exposed breasts flattened against its cold surface. Glancing askew, she saw him tug his tie out of its knot. She closed her eyes to the soft sound of that silk necktie as he pulled it out of his collar. He grabbed her arms and yanked them behind. Wrapping the necktie around her wrists, he bound them tightly in a knot. Oh my God! She thought in panic, eyes bulging. What have I gotten myself into?!?! Then he yanked her from the door and forcefully led her by those bound wrists to an elegant white fabric couch. She was unceremoniously pitched over its armrest, bent by the waist. Its cushion pressed against her cheek, embossing a woven imprint on her skin. She bit her lip and her nose flared as the combined force of fear and amorous excitement pounded through her. His hands slowly caressed the curve of her back, across the lace of those panties and further down to the back of her thighs. Then, surveying inward, he lightly caressed along the line of her sex and she whimpered uncontrollably. Tugging at the elastic strap of those sexy lace panties, he slowly pulled them off her hips and down her legs until it reached her ankles. Then he turned and twirled and twisted them until its soft lace tightly bound her feet. Is this rape? She wondered, curiously unconcerned. An unzipping sound came from behind. Then she felt it, that cock of his. Probing against her like a snake slithering toward home and her back arched to help him find the entrance. She tried to spread her legs to help but the elastic of that thong bit into skin. It seemed he didn’t like that. Grasping her thighs, he shoved together until only a this line separated them. Then his infernal rod probed and prodded and delved ever deeper, worming her tightness open excruciating bit by excruciating bit. Her excitement slowly trickled out, smearing between her thighs a slick gooeyness. He pushed onward and finally passed that point where resistance ends. Then he was inside her, and in the difficulty of penetration, it was as if was this was her first time again. My God, it was glorious! He leaned and pushed fully in until his pelvis ground against her ass. He was big and long and penetrated further than she had ever felt until there was a tickling right at her cervix. Then he pulled out ever so slowly. He stopped. And with a gradual push, he delved back inward. Thus began a slow and sensuous fucking that left her shivering in frustration and delight. Then, unexpectedly, he plopped out of her. “Noooo,” she whined. He began again, pushing against her at just the right spot until she spread open and that resistance inside collapsed. This time, her juices made it a little easier and he drove all the way in and tugged all the way out, repeating this delicious torture of exit and penetration again and again. Please make me come! She thought, begging him with that voice he could not hear yet still seemed to understand. Inside again, a steady pulsating rhythm wound her up like a rubber band. Yet, still she did not come. He wouldn’t let her. With careful and controlled movement, the insistence of her inner carnal demand just became stronger and stronger, straining her like a cracked dam to dangerous sexual bursting. Trembling transformed into shaking, then shaking into tremors, and tremors to convulsions, as a guttural cry emerged she could not prevent. Greedily, her insides clutched his cock, held him, and surrounded him, as seizures blinded her into oblivion. She writhed on that couch, crying out a wanton womanly squeal. It was the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. Panting, she woke from this dreamlike state to pounding in her chest. Beads of sweat covered her skin. A small pool lay drying in the arch of her back. Her slick armpits stank of exertion. A soft moan escaped as that wonderful just fucked comfort enveloped her senses. Then he pulled out and she whimpered as if tears might flow. But thankfully, he wasn’t done. She felt it rub against her sex as he stroked his hardness up and down and she hoped for another round. When it bumped against that special spot of hers, even after climax, an electric jolt of a muscular jump interrupted her trembling. But it was wrong. She first noticed something strange when he rubbed his tip up a bit further past her normal opening and slid it partly along that cleave that runs up to her back. Then he dragged his cock back down, slithered along her sensitive nub, and it seemed as though he might just be playing a sensuous game. But, once again, he returned back up along that unnatural path. He continued like this, directing his probe from that point where a woman expects a man to go, then further and further up toward that spot dirty men with their ugly desires always want to take. Up and back down again, teasing her with this sick desire. Just like with her sad excuse for a husband, it was disgusting. Up and down he went. Slowly. Confidently. Arrogantly. Then, as she considered what to do about this man’s demand for that thing she had refused time and again, just like her uncouth husband, always with that perverse craving, a deep concern built to outright fear. Was this man really angling for that liberty? To take her there, where she had let no one else go? She tensed all over as she conceived his intent. Panic built and she began struggling. But the necktie still bound her wrists. Those lace panties still cuffed her feet. And, writhing on that armrest, the friction from the fabric on that couch burned her tender cheeks. That leisurely exploration along her ass continued. It slid ever deeper, bit by bit. But fortunately, her tied up ankles made the way difficult, slow and cumbersome. Which only increased fear and expectation. He seemed to enjoy that. Eventually, though, she felt his tip touch her there and she squirmed violently. In response, he quickly pulled away. There was a loud slap, and she sucked in an uncontrolled deep breath as her eyes bulged. Then, a harsh sting along her buttocks became unbearable. “Ow!” There was a second blow. And yet another. And in a quick succession several more. And she squirmed on that couch defiantly. He’s spanking me! Came an astonished thought. It was offensive and humiliating and sexy erotic. Lauren had certainly put herself in a fucked up situation! Why was she enjoying this abuse? If she simply said no, it would be rape. She wanted to say no. She opened her mouth to say no. She expelled breath trying to say no. But barely a squeak escaped her lips as she fidgeted on that couch. But it seemed unavoidable. Now she must pay the price for this crazy amorous encounter. He noticed her change of attitude. Reaching down to her ankles, there was a tugging and a pulling between her feet. As he stretched those precious lace panties, its fabric could take the strain no longer. The cloth ripped and she was partly free. Then, he tore that delicate doily cloth away, still twisted in a ball of knots, and stood up. He grasped long strands of dirty blond hair and jerked her head until she saw the ceiling. There was terrible pain along her scalp. Then, in a final indignation, he stuffed those panties into her mouth. They were still moist and salty from when she’d just worn them. He let go, shoved her face back down onto the couch, and her defiant resolve was completely shattered. The man yanked her legs apart. He spread those other cheeks down below between thumb and forefinger. Stepping closer, his cock probed, past that splayed flesh, toward a now easier to reach target. Terror burst in her like a jolt of electricity as she realized that this thing was about to happen. Something she had promised would never occur. A virginity she had claimed as her own for a lifetime, never given but now to be stolen. But the fear did not engender further resistance. It was passive. She had accepted this would have to happen. She had acquiesced. Closing her eyes tightly shut, Lauren waited for the inevitable. He was against that pucker shaped place, pressing it gently. At first, he didn’t shove forward. She exhaled through those panties in relief at this brief respite. A dank pungent odor wafted to her senses that she knew was her own. Did they come from the panties, or somewhere else? Then, pressure. And that other place began to gradually open. A pinching that came apart instead of clasping together engulfed her senses. And, fingers clawing at air behind her back, a cry of pain escaped past teeth clutching the remnants of those lovely lace panties. His tip pushed in, opening her as wide as it could. As it went into that tiny opening, her ring closed around the ridge of his cock and it seemed to plop into place with a final stab of pain. It was so… huge! Just before, she had felt his member fill her where a man is meant to go and it had been a glorious perfect fit. But this was enormous in comparison. Panting and whimpering, she begged for it to end. Then the pinching and discomfort slowly subsided. He inched forward. Her muscular ring wrapped his oversized shaft like a tight rubber band. With each motion, it burned her nether ring like red knees chafing a rug. Each thrust up that strange place deep into her entrails and his cock throbbed in gratitude. Then he stopped about halfway in. “Squeeze me out,” he ordered. This confused her. What did the brute want? “Squeeze like you’re taking a shit,” he said, as if understanding her dilemma. Disgust flashed on her face, but she followed that perverse command. Puckering with a grimace, she pushed as hard as she could and he gradually began to slide out like a tough stool hardened by constipation. Then the ridge of his mushroom cap struck the inside of her rim. And her face twisted in discomfort again as friction burned along the edge of her asshole with his next gradual thrust inside. “Again,” he ordered. With the next squeeze it slid out easier. When he pushed back in again the burn diminished. And she knew now he would fuck her. He bent over, his starched shirt flowing across her bound hands, and reached around to her mouth to yank out those lovely lace panties. She gasped as her mouth was freed. “Say, ‘Fuck me!’” He ordered. Oh my God, she thought. He expects me to beg for this! She should certainly refuse the man this disturbing reward. Begging him aloud, at his request, for that thing she had long vowed never to give anyone. Yet the power to deny his command had vanished. Feeling that thing crammed within her, she steeled herself with a breath through gritted teeth. And, as one part of her tried to resist, another uttered it without reluctance. She couldn’t control herself. “Fuck me,” she quietly begged. Embarrassed and self-conscious, she added, “Please, fuck me.” Then, she rolled her eyes and squeezed. He stood back and let his cock slide out under her asshole’s command. Grasping her hips, he waited until the back of his tip reached her inner anus. She relaxed and he pushed back in until she squeezed, taking her lead, allowing her to control his depth within her bowels. And a strange and dirty pleasure began to warm in her belly. This perverse thing he was doing was no longer uncomfortable and had started a different kind of winding within her. She shook her head against the cushion, back and forth her hair became a mess of tangles, trying to resist that sensual pleasure building in her ass. This can’t be happening, she thought, as the eroticism of her submission to his carnal act became overwhelming. At her wrists, he tugged at the bindings, pulling the necktie through its knot. The sound of silk flowing against silk continued until her hands came free. But she did not attempt escape. Instead, Lauren reached out over her head and grasped a pillow. Her fingers clawed that softness as his hardness went in and out and in and out, ever deeper. She squeezed and relaxed and squeezed and relaxed. Christ. It. Felt. Good! This demeaning realization sent waves of shame through her. That dirty thing he was doing was heating the nub between her legs, that place where a woman expects to find pleasure. How could a thing like this make her so hot there? Yet it did. He took her shoulders and yanked her up from the couch. As she came up her hair swung in an arc. It slapped him in the face with its conditioner softness and then flopped down across her back as it swayed against skin. Then he shoved that cock in deeper than he had ever gone before, her back arching and eyes bulging as he penetrated deep into those bowels. Her knees buckled and he caught her at the waist until she steadied herself. His hand came to her belly as another trailed upward and he stroked her face gently. Grinding forcefully against her ass, his zipper bit into and a pressure deep inside compelled the need to urinate. But, though she held it in, as he moved around and around, grinding against her, the need to pee became overwhelming. To let him know her predicament, Lauren squeezed as hard as she could. He caught the message. Bringing one of her hands to the backrest of the couch, she bent for him and he pulled out slightly. The urge to relieve herself faded to an escaped sigh. What would have happened to that beautiful couch had she lost control? The shame of just thinking about it made her blush, for playing with piss was a perversity she could not imagine exploring. Glancing from the corner of her eye, she saw him return that powerful stare, smiling like a wolf might at cornered prey. It occurred to her that had he known her dilemma he might have pushed her over the limit to that place of shame. And that might have destroyed her. Would he have cared about this beautiful furniture thus ruined? She thought not. Still, it hadn’t happened. She broke the gaze and considered the white purity of his couch. Then she closed her eyes thankful she hadn’t stained it. He began fuck her again. While gradual in comparison to a man demanding his way with a woman’s proper place, in there his movements felt like a jet airplane on takeoff. He increased speed until he was too fast, she could no longer signal with that puckering squeeze, and she found herself fully passive to his incessant assfucking. He moved out and in and in and out while that wideness and longness of his cock filled her nether insides, pushing and tugging and shoving and pulling that burning ring of her delicate asshole. His cold zipper bumped her again and again and again. And, as he went deep in, that urge to pee would overtake her for an instant. Then, he’d pull out until the ridge of his bell just struck the inside of her anus. And, as that friction melted her ring with sensual pain, she gave herself up to its delightful torture. The burning intensified until a blaze lit in her ass. It felt so damn good. But it also hurt. Lauren gasped in ecstatic agony, panting to the rhythm of his hips. He was in control, fucking her good and hard and she loved it. He was doing that thing. Fucking her there. In that place. What place? That place, it came to her in a wave of realization. He’s fucking my ass, she thought in amazement. And those words, fucking my ass echoed within the ridges and valleys of her mind as lust overwhelmed shame. She felt the need to cry out. To beg for a good hard fucking. Yet saying that demeaning thing was too embarrassing. How could she? But then, as if her mouth wasn’t her own, once again those words escaped her lips like a longing cry of need. “Oh God, fuck my ass!” I can’t believe I said that! He sped the tempo to meet her request. “Rub yourself,” he commanded. More shame but the lust was irresistible and she complied. Reaching down, she found that nub all women understand how to please. She rubbed harder and harder as he relentlessly took her down this dark and filthy path. A man is fucking my ass, and I love it! She realized, and then rubbed harder. Lauren would never give this to her husband, but she considered whether she would let this man do it again. It seemed as though she might. The shame of that deliberation burned within her, worse than the inferno in her ass. But a wry smile twisted her lips. For she had been deflowered a second time, and now she could never turn back. She liked it. She wanted it. Of course, she’d let him take her there again. And she knew she’d love it. During these musings, she rubbed and rubbed harder and harder until wave after wave of convulsions overcame her. She’d discovered a new kind of oblivion. A cracking of the universe where an instant blind ecstasy blotted out everything. She woke to find herself tumbled over the couch, her head buried in the cushions. Behind her, he convulsed, all rhythm lost. A guttural low groan echoed throughout the room, his cock pulsed, and he filled her intestines with masculine fluid. His legs buckled and he steadied himself. Then, he was satiated. Done, he pulled out roughly. When his ridge hit her, spreading that ring of hers apart in an inconsiderate tug, she once again felt that pinch and gasped in pain. Then, thankfully, it was over and they were spent. He wanted to sit. Still bent over the armrest, he yanked her up off the couch and she fell to her knees by his feet. His cock went limp, slowly wilting like a cut flower. Lauren placed her head in his lap, gazing longingly at the destroyed underwear that had started it all. Its loss seemed a worthwhile sacrifice, she concluded. As his seed leaked out along her thighs, a lingering burn in her ass persisted. She thought the burn would become a lingering itch, a reminder of his anal conquest for hours, maybe even days. It would be her little secret. Something she could cherish. A fact her husband would never know. And after that faded, it would become another itch, something only he could scratch. And this thought made her smile. “Are you late?” He asked. “Who cares?” She replied, still panting. “Good girl.” Curiously, his infantilizing comment didn’t offend her. She felt proud to be his good little girl. How strange, she thought, sighing into his thighs. Lauren examined that wedding ring on her hand, a token of conformity to rules she’d rather ignore. Reaching out to grasp it, she turned and twisted the diamond along her knuckle and thought of the man who had placed it there so many years before. He who was not here. He, who had never taken her in that place where only this stranger had invaded. He, who would be so pathetically whiney and jealous to learn that his wife had just given up that thing he’d always wanted but never had. He, who had long since stopped making her feel this way. And isn’t that a husband’s most important responsibility? Because, if so, he’d entirely failed to fulfill it. This realization should have depressed her, but instead it was liberating. For she had now found someone who could. Lauren resolved to come back to this man’s apartment. To let him take whatever he demanded. To give him anything he wanted. To let him use her like a cheap whore. She was his to enjoy, without regard to those consequences traditionalism in marriage coerced. For it had been far too long since a real man had fucked her silly. And it had felt so goddamned good.
Her Submissive
https://www.frolicme.com/stories/her-submissive/
#NSFW #Erotica #StoryPorn #WrittenPorn #sexyfiction #Fucktion #Lesbian #Sub #Submissive #BDSM #kink #kinky
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Reborn in Sin
A newly minted professor is a secret nymphomaniac. She’s also a mind controlled, and being used to attract other potential girls to a harem by some unknown voice/power.
This is a Mindcontro / Hypno story. It’s about 8.5K words across three pages.
https://www.literotica.com/s/reborn-in-sin
#NSFW #Hypnokink #Hypno #Mindcontrol #Erotica #StoryPorn #WrittenPorn #Literotica
Please see the new Erotica community at LemmyNSFW!
The Model Sister
A brother-sister incest story.
#NSFW #Incest #Erotica #WrittenPorn #kink #kinky #Literotica #StoryPorn #BrotherSister #Taboo
Please see the new Erotica community at LemmyNSFW!
Sex and romance by the written word and by visual art. - THIS IS A NSFW 18+ SPACE! - All CHARACTERS MUST BE OVER 18. - Misogyny, racism, and bigotry of any sort is not allowed here. - This is a LGTBQ+ and nonbinary inclusive community. - No video pornography. Links, text posts, even imagery from graphic novels are all fine. But it MUST HAVE STORY. - No trolling. Be respectful of others. Treat people here as you would in real life.
sweetdave
Anais Rim