A Reunion After Decades Apart "What on earth was she doing here?" she asked herself. She absently watched the deer nibbling silently and incessantly at the grass, the whole herd moving imperceptibly closer to her the longer she sat still. To an onlooker, a peaceful scene; unremarkable even. But that betrayed a churning turmoil that almost paralysed her. Sh...
His story of her Fantasy: Here's an attempt at a 200 word very short seduction story written first person from the woman's perspective. After I wrote it, I had a good idea who the characters were and I liked them so I had to write a "his & hers" version. It evolved into a longer His view & her view of the same event::: Here's the short, short story, Followe...
This story follows on from The Piss Slave's Confessional, which it is advised you read prior to this story. It is just a short letter. Sent some time ago in real life. Here is the response. *** Everyone was caught up in the mood of the city that evening. You could sense the relief of the workers. Exorcising workplace daemons and purging themselves of the c...
Every story needs a protagonist. Someone to undergo the Hero's Journey. Someone who, through trials and tribulations, learns to come to terms with who they are—learns to love themselves. (This is a story where the main character explores a relationship with themselves in some form or another. This could mean body parts gaining sentience, having multiple per...
While I am very in love with myself, it's not that uncommon for me to seek worship from other willing parties. I'm frequently online searching out men and, much more rarely, women, who are enthusiastic about showing me the reverence I deserve. The gender doesn't matter to me, because I'm not really doing anything to them anyway. Most of the time when I meet...
Fatima Bhatti sat in her living room in her nice townhouse in the City of Nepean, Ontario, watching a soap opera. She'd been watching Days of Our Lives for decades and could never get tired of it. Still, on a day like today, her favorite soap did nothing to assuage her mood. She was feeling quite lonely. After raising two adult sons and a daughter, and adapt...
My name is Madeline Jean-Christophe Bradshaw. I'm a plump White chick in her early fifties living in the city of Nepean, Province of Ontario. I stand five feet eleven inches tall, kind of curvy, with short blonde hair and pale green eyes. I worked as a Professor of Economics at the University of Ottawa for two decades and recently retired. My conservative hu...
Nervously my finger pressed the buzzer, within ten seconds the release mechanism clicked and opened the door, I pushed it ajar and entered a dimly lit hallway, a stair case lay in front of me, leading down to a single ominous black door, I walked down and knocked, "You may enter." Came the quick curt reply. Sheepishly I entered, and closed the door behind...
My name is Steven, I'm 24, and I am a narcissist. Not in the psychological disorder way, but in the "I really want to fuck myself" way. I absolutely worship myself because I know I'm incredibly sexy. When I'm alone (which is most of the time) I like to jerk off in front of the mirror, admiring my gorgeous body and cock. I even take pictures and videos of mys...
Acting persons: Sandra Blackmore (53); Po Ling (18) Po Ling was on an exchange programme of her school in Hong Kong and had the chance to spend a whole year in Bristol. She was a shy, young girl of 18. She was only 1,65 m in height and her body was all quite tender and slim. Her breasts were firm and round like small plates. They were not very big, but per...