Author's note: I want to thank the workers of Literotica for letting me know that I had more edits to be made before submitting this story once again. Also want to thank a special friend who shall stay nameless but he knows who he is. For those of you who may not know. In Asian countries, the last name is spoken first then their first name last. All names an...
I had always been turned on at the idea of fucking a hooker. I don't know why. I guess I'm just attracted to the fantasy, like many other men probably are; otherwise such a business wouldn't exist. There's something to the thought of calling a woman over just for lust and then doing whatever you want with her. Sure, that may sound degrading, but I'm not a d...
They all appeared at the High council where they saw Cheyenne in a long white gown, with a white canopy veil that surrounded the bed from the ceiling to the floor, everything was all white as she laid there looking so angelic and at peace when they saw Roger sitting in a chair by the bed where she laid. Two men led them into the room Roger looked up at them...
My name is Clarice Jensen. I was born in the town of Baton Rouge, State of Louisiana, in the year of our lord 1823. Born of a white male plantation owner and an African female slave. I grew up on the Jensen Plantation, from which I escaped in 1846. I ran away to the City of Boston, Massachusetts. At the time, the Northeast was considered a bastion of liberty...
It’s a late night, after the slaughter house has shut down. You told me to wait for you in the carving room. I sit on a hard cold metal table in the middle of the dark, dark room. As my the back of my thighs touch the table my nipples get incredible hard and a shiver runs up my spine. My pussy begins to get wet with anticipation, I want to rub it through the...
"There is no crueler tyranny than that which is perpetrated under the shield of law and in the name of justice." ― Baron de Montesquieu Nothing green touched Vegas Vic's plate. The fired circle of porcelain was off limits to anything grown in the ground, at one time hanging from a vine, or initially dangling from a tree. The dinnerware obviously had an in...
When planning on being a Numbers Guy, a crucial trick of the trade is learning how to hump all night. Should you find yourself in a room filled with new women ― eager to fuck ― knowing how to pound mound until dawn results in multitudinous Digits. In contrast, banging the traditional way ― shooting one's load each time you mattress dance ― will cause you to...
The ugly little plastic gargoyle perched on my computer screen has bright blue eyes now. They used to be beady little black eyes, but I found a bottle of glittery nail polish (don't ask) and fixed them. Much better. Now it'll remind me of what happened yesterday. I should explain. The gargoyle is part of a nameplate like you'd find on somebody's desk. The n...
Author's note: As absurd as the concept of a hucow is, I tried to take it quite seriously, to delve in the psychology of a hucow and her owner, in search of what this admittedly strange fetish means, at least to me. Therefore, beside the tropes of the genre (kinky sex, humiliation and de-humanization), you will find the musings of a young girl who chooses t...
My brother and I were opening up a new restaurant. It was a bit of a gamble for us but he was a superb chef and we were both willing to work hard. Would you believe all the red tape you have to go through? It's like they don't want you to succeed. We stuck it out though and were due to open shortly. One last thing we had to do was get a health certificate f...