The school bell had rung long ago, leaving the hallways of Westridge High silent and empty. Molly, an 18-year-old senior with long brunette hair, stood outside the maths classroom, her heart racing. She was of medium height, curvy in all the right places, but it was her impossibly huge breasts that always drew the most attention. Today, they strained heavily against the buttons of her white school blouse, the fabric stret...

I was actually doing it. I was stroking off my son, with my bare hand. All the layers I’d tried to put in place were gone. There was no latex glove preventing me from feeling every detail of his cock. There was no lotion to smooth things over. I could feel every detail, every vein, as I slowly pumped his shaft up and down. The heat of his flesh melted into my own. It felt so different from before. This wasn’t a procedure....

Before long, the event I’d originally described as a “one-time thing” became a daily tradition. Every night before bed, Henry would go into his room, turn off the lights, and wait naked beneath his sheet. A few minutes later, I’d come in, slip on my trusty latex glove, apply some lotion, and stroke his erection until he came. After a few days, it was becoming as much a part of our daily routine as making breakfast or gett...

The phone rang only twice before she answered. "Ben!" her voice boomed through the receiver, cheerful and a little out of breath, as if she'd just run up the stairs. I couldn't help but smile. The mere sound of her voice was enough to brighten the gray afternoon at university. "Hey, you almost-birthday girl," I said, leaning back in my chair. "I hope I'm not interrupting your important birthday planning?" I could picture...

Everything that night was a blur. I remember screaming into the phone that I needed an ambulance. Then I found myself standing against the wall in the emergency room as they carted him off to surgery. Then I was pacing the floor in the waiting room. The first thing I remember clearly was when the surgeon came out to talk to me. “Henry suffered what’s called a brain aneurysm,” he explained. “He’s very lucky to be alive. An...

In my mind, I didn't refer to him as Doctor. Instead, I thought of him as Gabriel. A beautiful name for a beautiful man. While sitting in his office late that afternoon (or was it early evening?), not long past five, I hated myself for finding my therapist attractive. After all, he was working with the enemy. The enemy being my mother. It was our third session, and I didn't feel this was doing me any good. Gabriel and I h...

The bedroom was quiet except for the soft rustle of sheets and her gentle breathing as she curled against him, one leg draped lazily over his. Her fingers traced idle circles on his chest, dipping lower, lower, until they brushed the front of his boxers. He was already half-hard just from her closeness. She nuzzled into his neck, voice barely above a whisper. “Baby… have you ever thought about me fucking someone else?” Hi...

“Aria, babe.” I called softly to my wife. “I have a bath ready for you,” I said as I came back into our bedroom. The soft scent of jasmine and rose water wafted in from behind me, where our attached bathroom was. Aria looked up from her phone, an adorable pout on her full lips. “Finn, honey, you spoil me.” She was so gorgeous, lying on her tummy in just a loose white cropped tank top and peach colored booty shorts. Her ou...

The massage parlor is a cocoon of quiet warmth. Soft, muted lights cast a golden haze. The air carries subtle scents of lavender and warmed vanilla with a touch of cloves. A low ambient melody plays from unseen speakers. Artfully arranged shelves of rolled towels, small stone sculptures, and flickering candles accent the inviting reception area and hallway beyond. The receptionist informs her that she has a reservation. “...

I never thought I'd be the guy who couldn't get it up. At twenty-four, I was supposed to be in my prime. Fit enough from the gym, decent-looking, good job in IT that let me work remotely. Women liked me — or at least they seemed to. Drinks turned into make-outs, make-outs turned into hands under shirts, and then... nothing. My cock would start interested, half-hard from the anticipation, then decide it had better things t...

Lying naked on the massage table awaiting her masseuse, the corner of her mouth curls with amusement as she recalls the preceding events that led to this slutty challenge. It all started with a gift. A four-hand massage gift from her husband. … In hindsight, the massage parlor seemed purposefully tucked away from the public. Had she been less innocent, she might have deduced all sorts of pleasures that could be enjoyed in...