Tell Sir to fuck him good, Miss. The implications of those words sent to his phone from Beth were still making their way through Ben’s brain as his university tutor’s husband dropped his business trousers to reveal navy briefs, bulging at the crotch. “Do you know what the rule is when Smita picks a new fucktoy?” the older man asked while his audience focused on the dark, damp patch visible where the head of his dick was p...

“How do you like my wife’s cunt, boy?” Patrick growled in Ben’s ear, giving his left buttock a fifth spank. His hips thrust forward, with nowhere for the shockwave to go other than into Smita since Ben’s cock was still buried in her pussy, being milked of the last drops of his young seed. “Answer!” SMACK! “Did you enjoy fucking my wife?” To Ben’s great credit, his first thought was of the older woman beneath him rather th...

I heard footsteps behind me, running. I turned to look and was grabbed. A hand came round and clamped over my mouth, the other one circled my waist. He must have been hiding behind a bush in one of the front gardens. I wriggled and struggled, but the arm round my waist was just too tight, but I had one arm almost free. I remembered a few self-defence lessons I’d learnt and I knew I should use my free arm to try to startle...

Two days after my mother's funeral, I got a call from a local number that wasn't in my contacts. "Mrs. Lenoir? Mrs. Helen Lenoir?" a deep male voice asked. "Yes, this is her. Who's asking?" I asked. Clearing his voice, he started, "My name is Peter Benfort, I'm sorry for your loss. I'm deeply sorry. Your mother was an amazing woman..." I interrupted him. He was talking like he knew my mother, but I've never heard his name...

She'd found the orgies a disappointment. Not at first, of course, at first, she'd been overwhelmed by the debauchery on display before her headset-clad eyes. Certainly, they were everything that the message boards and pop-up adverts had promised. A pit, she could think of no better word, filled with taut, tanned flesh entwined in every conceivable combination of sexual possibilities.  The bodies themselves rippled with pe...

I don’t remember my name; it was lost in history as I used so many aliases to protect my identity. I was born somewhere in Europe around a hundred years before Jesus Christ. I don’t know the date or who my parents were. I was told my mother died in childbirth and my father then left me on the doorstep of a neighbor. I lived there until I was kicked out due to my special gift, a gift that is both a curse and a blessing, fo...

I got more than I bargained for at my local car boot sale. As I wandered the aisles of unwanted household items, looking at kitchen utensils for my two student flats, a young woman put a set of almost new saucepans on a tarpaulin in front of her car. She knelt to organise her display more attractively and did so in a way she was not intending. Her black shoulder-length hair hung forward, obscuring her face as she rearrang...

Being sick of my neighbours’ constant screw-ups was an understatement. From the idiot husband calling me the wrong name for the past three years, to the dotish wife’s trees growing over my fence. Believe me, there was much more than that. The latest mess, however, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Their moronic daughter and two guy pals climbed over my fence and decided an attempted threesome in my yard was the b...

Kurt comes back on top with a beer. Marsha is still sitting with her shirt open and breasts partially exposed. She feels so free and uninhibited. Dave stands up and stretches. "I'm going down below for a while." "OK, honey. Why don't you take a little nap? I'll stay up here and relax with the captain." She feels the heat and intimacy of being alone with Kurt. Marsha takes off her shirt. "There, that's better, don't you th...