Larry and Harry were identical. Even their mother couldn't always tell them apart, so I had no chance. I didn't really need to know who was who, anyway. Larry (or possibly Harry) thrust into my throat while Harry (or possibly Larry) pounded my pussy, with cocks of equally impressive proportions and hardness. Then they swapped places. Everyone came, twice. 'That was amazing,' I complimented my paramours, in the afterglow o...

In the coffeeshop, I find a table while he orders. Like at the famous chain, here they take your name and call you when your drinks are ready. A few minutes later, the barista shouts out, 'Cappuccino for Dom! White Americano for ..... slut???' 'Go on, then,' he says. Blushing, pussy gushing from the exquisite humiliation, I approach the counter and stammer, 'I'm slut.' Back at the table I lay into him. 'What the fuck?' Hi...

My husband Graeme and I watched, fascinated, as the astoundingly pretty girl sitting opposite us on the train to Tirano nestled into her boyfriend's shoulder, her tongue delicately probing the little plastic carton, chasing the last of the Nutella from her travel snack of apple slices and individual portion of chocolate spread. In and out and around and around her little pink tongue went, as unhurriedly and with obvious e...

On one of those heritage-washed-down-with-a-cream-tea sort of days out, showing visiting pals a local castle, I spy you wandering around the ruins with your own group of friends. I hadn't expected to see you here, but the history between us means there's no need for anything to be explicitly signposted; a glance exchanged at a distance and a slightly cocked eyebrow is enough. We make our respective excuses to the people w...

This is the story of a recent sexual experience I had, that was rather unusual because it happened with a total stranger, and while I was at work. I work as a mountain ranger, which probably sounds more exciting than it actually is, for the most part. There's an occasional dramatic rescue effort, but usually, the job involves far more mundane activities, like litter picking, monitoring the condition of paths, and, as my p...

Johnny was in the bathroom, trying to do his hair. Somehow, no matter how much laundry starch he put on it, he could never quite get it to spike up as perfectly he wanted, though he was determined to get it as good as possible for the gig tonight. For the start of the gig, anyway. By the end it'd be a sweaty mess, but so would everybody else's. Recently he'd gone back to having it orange again, after a period dying it bla...

It's 6.30 am and I am wide awake, as I usually am at this time. I have always been a lark, and these days because of my insomnia I wake up earlier than ever. I am sitting up in bed beside my husband, drinking the one coffee that I allow myself before switching to decaffeinated tea for the rest of the day, not that cutting back on the jitter liquid seems to have helped the sleeplessness much, but the regime has become a ha...

On the allotment, the courgettes just kept coming. I'd cooked them in every conceivable way, but still, they grew. Luckily there's always one use a girl can make of something seven or eight inches long and six inches round. I gained weight. I assumed it was from eating all the produce. It was only when my waters broke the following July that I finally understood. "Congratulations on your beautiful pumpkin-headed baby boy,...

"I have to leave by midnight." "Why, will you turn into a pumpkin?" "No, but I get hungry." As the date ticked from October to November, though, I was lost, buried too deep to care, her claws in my back and her breathless lips on my neck. Then: teeth. That was ten thousand Halloweens ago. There are no humans left to feast on now. Our kind sucks on scorpions, fight and fuck to pass the time, and wait.

The door to the hotel room closes, and we move towards one another and kiss. One last lingering kiss in the corridor. Then we go to your car, dropping the room key off at reception on the way, and you drive me back into town so that I can walk home from there, as we don't want to risk you dropping me off near where I live. Forty-eight days until we can fuck each other again. ... The door to the hotel room closes, and we m...

A strip of leather, with a tassel at either end, each made of about two-dozen eight-inch long leather strips bound with cord. I'd removed it from a bag I'd bought in a charity shop, because I don't like fussy detail on things. It lay on my sewing table waiting for an alternative use. It wasn't long before it had one. Idly, I picked it up, holding it between the two tassels, and slapped my inner arm. A pleasing sting. Not...

We are in your car. Your right hand is on the wheel but you have your left hand between my legs, groping me through my light summer skirt, except for when you need it to change gear. It's making me horny as hell, as I'm sure you well know. You too, judging by your bulging crotch. On a secluded country lane, I ask you to pull into a field entrance. You know why without me having to spell it out. I move my seat forward to c...

"Get in that kitchen and cook my dinner, wench," he says, as he unties me. "Yes John," I say, using the name we use when he goes into character to dominate me. We don't go in for a full-time BDSM lifestyle, but sometimes, like today, 'bedroom' activities extend into other areas of life. By using his play name I'm indicating my willingness to continue. We go down to the kitchen. He has dressed by now, but I am still naked....

It started in a small way, on one little website, where people went to chat and share smutty stories. The first sign was when the mods noticed there was a drop in members blocking each other. A blip? No, after several weeks the trend was clear, and was gathering pace. Fewer and fewer people were receiving messages they didn't want. No longer was the site awash with unsolicited dick pics, and everyone was suddenly meeting...

I tell you to sit on a small, low wooden chair in front of my desk. It is far too small for your adult size, so your knees are up towards your chest, and your buttocks spill over the edges of the seat. I sit on the high desk in front of you, my feet dangling, one leg crossed over the other, and regard you over the top of my glasses. "You've been a very naughty boy, haven't you?" You look at the floor shamefacedly. "Yes, R...