I was at work, sitting at my desk. I was working on the computer, filling in some meaningless spreadsheet, bored as hell. The phone rang, and I answered. "Hello, is Bert there?" I heard the sweet voice, and I knew it was Candy. Her name is Candice, but she liked me to call her Candy. I had met her six months ago. She's a nude dancer, and she works at the F...
I had met Sally in 1992 whilst doing a business college course, she was lovely, good looking, slim and had the most wonderful smile I had ever seen, it was love at first sight. I had taken the course because of pressure from work, they wanted to promote me and thought that I was too inexperienced and the course would help me understand the finer points of...
This is a story about how being stripped naked in public was the best thing that ever happened to me. It concerns me and another person who is now dead, so I have nothing to lose by telling it, except maybe inviting your curiosity, or sympathy, or disgust. It happened some years ago, when I was eighteen. I certainly wasn't having any sex. I knew that girls...
This is a fictional story; any resemblance is just coincidental and uncanny. I highly recommend reading previous chapters first, to understand the characters and plot better. Fair warning: this is a BDSM story involving Female domination, spanking, humiliation, and other fetishes. If this does not interest you, then please find something suitable to your i...
Jack was half shaft deep in Sara's ass when he paused to admire his handiwork. Sara was standing, bent over her bed with her head mashed into a pile of pillows. Her jeans and panties were bunched around her ankles, leaving her standing in a precarious toddle. They were both breathing heavily, and there were several red hand prints across the tan flesh of Sar...
THURSDAY EVENING But first, John had a big date night planned with Cori. "What are we doing tonight," Cori asked as they left the shop for the evening. John had instructed her to keep her spaghetti-strap suit on and had given her a fresh layer of oil before they left. "We're having a cookout at my place," John said. "A neighborhood cookout, that is." "N...
I was bereft. Meg, my wife of 24 years, had died of cancer. At age 45, I found myself a widower. For weeks after the funeral I would come home from work and rattle around inside the big empty house and cry and feel sorry for myself. The kids would call once or twice a week, but they were grown and moved away and had their own lives. Their occasional calls st...
Copyright 2009 by madengineer3 This story is pure fiction. Any similarities in names and places are purely coincidental. The story starts in the late 1950s. To quote MrRobbur: "No words were harmed in the writing of this story." For me, high school was a very bad experience. I wasn't rich, wasn't an athlete, was a bit on the heavy side, and wasn't the sh...
Miranda. One cool lady. She was the kind of co-worker you lucked into. Highly competent. Took care of business. Represented the firm with aplomb. She exuded professionalism. At twenty plus years younger than I, she carried herself with a pert self-confidence. She could be flirtatious and sexy when she chose to turn it on. Her persona was an amalgam of an i...
Making sure that Cathy had left the area, I locked up and headed off to the Harbor Bar, and Hattie. If anyone could give me some answers to all this, it was her. It was a bit late when I entered the bar, but Hattie apparently had some pretty hi-tech radar on board, as my Guinness was sitting in front of the barstool about the same time as me. Finishing wipi...