The next Saturday rolled around faster than I expected. Gene’s texts had been relentless all week, teasing photos of the fucking machine box sitting unopened in his living room, close-ups of the attachments he’d ordered (a thick, veined realistic dildo, a ridged one for extra texture, even a curved prostate hitter), and messages like: “Can’t wait to strap you down and let it pound you while I watch… or while I fuck your m...

It’s fitting. Homura’s name translates as blaze, and she reflects that with each searing splash of pink candle wax dripped onto her big breasts. Gasped syllables that don't even exist in my language bounce off the hotel walls as she arches, fists bunching the sheets. It takes her a while to drift those slender hips back down to the bed, not helped by me accidentally spilling more wax in a crude cross over her prominent ni...

They were six college friends, three women, three men, who came together to rent a cabin on a Florida beach for Spring Break. They were not dating couples, just classmates who united over a desire for a vacation getaway, at a time when their usual ‘besties’ went home. The rental was a small two-bedroom cabin, with the girls sharing one bedroom, the guys the other. One shared bathroom and a small living room. Not a lot of...

I know the clichés “be careful what you wish for” and “bigger is better” have been used often, and in our case, both turned out to be true. My wife, Ann, and I have been together for nearly 40 years. Ann is more on the conservative side when it comes to sex, leading to us having a very ordinary sex life. As we got older, the thought of seeing her with other men grew on me. I had become obsessed with sharing her, and that...

I live with Darlene, a sixty-six-year-old woman who has taken me under her wing. She is remarkable—kind, generous, and vibrant in a way that defies both age and expectation. In just seven months, her guidance has taught me more about life than the first twenty years ever did. Through her, I’ve learned freedom, curiosity, and the complexities of desire—with both men and women. She has shared not only her home but also her...

"Remember," I tell my stepbrother as soon as he appears in the doorway, "this is a one-time thing." Zac dumbly nods while staring at me. I'm stretched out on my unmade bed, wearing only an oversized T-shirt and white cotton panties. He's fresh from the shower and sporting a noticeable bulge in his boxer briefs. Propped up on an elbow, I do my best to appear slightly bored. No sense in letting him know how much I've been l...

Dennis We watched from our bench as the show began. The performers in the costumes came from the storage area doors, one after another. It wasn't totally dark yet, but I could tell that Pam was eyeing each of them up while searching for her fat cock. The mutants wandered about while the men with the rifles shot them and left them flat on the pavement. After several walked closely past us, one was shot right by our bench a...

Room 20 always smelled faintly of smoke. Menthol Longs, the only brand Erika Weiss bought by the carton from the Turkish kiosk near Kaiserslautern station. They burned slowly and carried the taste of distant winters. Faded floral wallpaper from the late 1960s clung to the walls, curling at the corners like forgotten memories. Above the dresser hung a single framed photograph: Erika at twenty-eight with her late husband Ka...