Dear Shoeblossom: Having enjoyed so many of your letters from BDSM enthusiasts in the States, I thought I would tell you about my husband, Conrad, the Canadian Cuckold. (Catchy?) My husband Conrad and I are at the Levinger's party, socializing, but of course he is almost ignoring all the other women there, he just gazes earnestly, plucking my arm...he is i...
This is my entry in the Highway Song event. Some may recognize the first chapter as my entry in the Siren's Song event. I have since felt the urge to continue the Edgerton story. Since the subsequent chapters depend on the original story, I'm including it here as the first chapter of a four-chapter story. All four chapters are included in this submission. If...
The heat was unbearable, the sun beating down on him without cease. His linen shirt clung to his chest, slick with sweat. His arms itched under the wool of his uniform. Cannon fire boomed across the field. The ground seemed to thunder as dust rose in plumes and sprays of rock and sand. His body was frozen in fear. He could not move or cry out. Only his heart...
Contributed by Richard Williams for the enjoyment of Literotica's readers. This fictional story is copyrighted and may only be used for your personal pleasure. It may not be sold, distributed, or posted on another website without the author's permission. * * * * * AT THE SUMMIT by Prof. Richard W. (formerly of the University of ____________) Part 4 *...
Copyright 2004, All rights reserved -------------------------------------------- Contributed by Richard Williams for the enjoyment of Literorica's readers. This fictional story is copyrighted and may only be used for your personal pleasure. It may not be sold, distributed, or posted on another website without the author's permission. ---------------------...
Copyright Oggbashan May 2019/January 2020 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. ************************************************* I wa...
The orchestra was a tuneless jumble of noise, each practicing a different part, some just improvising little melodies on the spot. It was Saturday afternoon, and no performance was scheduled for that evening, so everyone was relaxed. Claire was packing away her things at the far end of the stage when Sebastien approached her. "Claire, how would you like to...
CHAPTER ONE: SUNDAY. An unexpected meeting in the cemetery. Tim Bloomfield put a sketchbook, soft pencils, stanley knife, eraser and pens into a plastic carrier bag, walked carefully down the stairs from his flat, let himself out of his front door tucked between a pizza restaurant and an estate agent, and crossed the road under a hot June sun to the entra...
"You are not my Stephen, you are a monster, a scourge upon this Earth and you will be destroyed," screamed my mother, Elsa Voltaire, as she brandished a kitchen knife which she pointed at me. I looked at her, confused, and saw nothing but hatred in her once-loving gaze. What prompted this rather unsavory welcome, you may ask? Oh, the fact that I'm now a Vamp...
It was the most delicate of feather-like touches tracing the curve of my naked hip and upper thigh that stirred me gently from my slumber. The first of his soft angel-kisses, which he so delicately placed up along my back, caused my breath to catch in my throat. His touch was so gentle and so patiently erotic that I wasn't quite sure yet if I was awake or st...