Authors note: This story is an immediate sequel to my first story "Carol's Christmas". The events of this story deal with the younger man named Marcus who Mrs. Carson initiated into the mysteries of sex and submission in "Carol's Christmas". * Marcus was sweating bullets as he rang the door. He burned for Mrs. Carson...Mistress Carol...and needed to be wi...
A very dark fantasy, derived in part from people and situations I have known, but mostly fiction. * The phone rang. Fuck, I thought to myself. I'd just finished dinner, started the dishwasher, and settled in for a couple hours reading the latest thriller in a series I enjoyed, made all the better because of the Kindle. I'd finished the first thirty page...
Nathan Bedford Buchanan had never met his paternal grandfather. For the most part, he wished he never met his maternal grandfather either. His rich and powerful grandfather on his mother's side had insisted he be named Nathan Bedford as a fuck you to his father's family. Nathan was the product of a one time hook up with a Mexican athlete married to a black w...
Clay was already on the way to school by 7 a.m. he knew he would be early, but also knew it was better than staying home waiting on another full beer can to come flying his way, his body seemed to accent this thought by bringing his hand to the swelling bruise at the top of his jaw, when he pulled away, he glanced at his fingertips. "Least the bleeding stop...
They teased me in school. They made fun of the way I looked, and the way I dressed. I swore that some day I would get even. But growing up in a small town made revenge very difficult. I ran away from home in the middle of high school, and worked my way across the country. I managed to not only finish high school, but I even went to college. Fifteen years had...
(This is a continuation of a previous story, where June - a 1950s housewife - caught a young neighbor watching her pleasure herself upon a washing machine.) * She hung the laundry to dry. Went around to the front of the house, opened the gate in the white picket fence and began walking down the tree-lined street. A few minutes later, June was knocking on...
Number 9666 woke up in a cold sweat. She had the dream again. The dream where she was out in the warm sun then hands reached out from the ground and dragged her under into the dark depths of the cold rocky crust. She swung her feet over the cloth cot that was attached to the wall with chains. It was old and every time she sat on it or lay down 9666 thought...
Unlike most of my stories, this little short has no explicit sex. It has surprising emotions about wife sharing. This is NOT a BTB story. Some feel 'happy cuck' stories rob the husbands of manhood. In some cases that's exactly what the husband wants. Here's one case study, exaggerated to the extreme. This is certainly a Loving Wives story, yet it has serious...
Copyright Neonurotic The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. All characters are 18+ years old. # A sweet green and fresh breeze wafted...
Right now there is not a lot of sex but I'm trying to build up the storyline so bear with me, its coming not pun intended! * I slowly awoke to my blaring alarm clock, that high pitched siren that startles and angers you first thing in the morning, but seemed the only thing that could wake me up. 9:15 read the glowing red numbers. I slept through my alarm...