I hated doing airport pick-ups. It usually meant that I would have to transport a rich snob from the airport to the Ritz or some other exorbitantly priced hotel in Toronto, for a flat fee of one hundred Canadian dollars. Don't get me wrong, I haven't anything against wealthy people, I intend to be one myself one day. It just seems to be that those, who use m...
There is no name for a woman like me. Most people would prefer to keep me chained in their fantasies than admit there might be a real chance of meeting me in the street one day. Life has been good to me. I have it all - looks, money, university accolades, a great job, a top range sports car, and several penthouse apartments around the world. Some might say I...
"It was after I moved here to live with aunt Jen and uncle Frank," Marnie said in answer to my question, "I had a birthday party and Megan, from across the street, spent the night with me." "Megan? Megan Childs?" I sought to clarify. I had asked Marnie who her 'first' was, not expecting it to be my across-the-street neighbor's daughter, little Miss Oh-So-Pr...
Author's note: Recently, a friend of mine told me she was going on a date with her ex's ex. That sounded like the title of a Literotica story, so I decided to write it. This story is set in Austin, Texas where I have lived in or near since I was nine years old. A familiarity with the city is helpful, but not necessary to appreciate some of the cultural and...
Cristen Pt 2 The next day after her evening with Olga was tough. Cristen had never been so sore. Her ribs, hips and arms all ached, to say nothing of her still reddened, tender to the touch, pussy. However, it was most definitely all worth it to her. Later that morning, a text came in from Olga. Olga: Hey girl! Did last night do it for you? Cristen: omg...
The Pueblo neighborhood of south Phoenix is not for the weak. My charcoal SUV was parked about half way down the block under a large Cottonwood. That made it only slightly less conspicuous than a flashing neon sign. For one thing it was not covered with a layer of desert dust and secondly, it was not setting on concrete blocks. I was watching the corner ho...
*please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author. Do not read if you're under the age of 18 or prohibited by local law. enjoy... I was 20 years old and getting ready to start an internship at an up and coming design house as part of my aspirations to become a fashion designer. I had never really heard much about Volupté o...
The following story has been submitted to the 2020 National Nude Day contest. Many, many thanks to AwkwardMD for beta reading this whimsical tale and offering her constructive insights! *** My name is Gisele d'Évreux, born of nobility to Auguste and Jeanne d'Évreux in the grand apartments of the Château de Versailles at the time of King Louis XIV's reig...
I can tell you when my dream of becoming a geisha began. It was James Clavell’s fault. If he had never written Shôgun and Richard Chamberlain had never brought Anjin-san to such vivid life, I’d have never made that vow to myself. The vow to one day go to Japan and learn how to become a geisha. Of course, I had to live the rest of my life, while keeping my...
In the Big Apple, New York City, where just about anything and everything goes from the upper-crust wealthy who have their inner city castle-apartments in the East End and those overlooking Central Park to the bohemian lifestyle in Greenwich Village between Bleecker and West 3rd Streets, and, of course, Times Square, there is in the Village the Club Sappho....