New Membership

This week’s Erotic Bite is the story of a couple who has enjoyed what life had in store for them, but have started to become bored with each other. However, a very exclusive night club may offer new excitement possibilities. Enjoy!

The skyline above the city was filled with colors of orange and pink, holding up the dark blue hues of the coming night. Street lights were already blinking on along the road of the gated community, creating yellow beams of light in Michael’s car as he drove by them. The scent of fast food french fries filled the Cadillac Coupe with a scent that teased his nostrils. He was very tempted to reach into the paper bag in the passenger seat, and snatch a few fries to snack on, but resisted the temptation. He’d be home in just a few moments, and then he could sit and enjoy his food.

Turning into the driveway, he continued on for a few seconds into the large plot of concrete, easily able to hold eight other cars, and still have some room to spare. Reaching the garage door, he stopped just in front of his large, 90s-style mansion. Mainly taking the appearance of white stucco and faux stones, it matched the handful of large houses surrounding the area in their private community. Pulling on the emergency brake, and grabbing the paper bag as he unbuckled, he made his way up the walkway to the large wooden door. Stepping inside, he set the paper bag down a moment to take off his coat, and hang it in the adjoining closet.

Just before getting settled, he stopped in front of the ornamental mirror in the doorway to examine himself. His friends and family always told him he was a good-looking guy, with his dark brown hair; and a charmer to have blue eyes like his. Even for a guy in his early thirties, he had done very well for himself, and looked as if he’d barely aged at all. Out of everyone living in the private community, he and his wife, Nicole, were probably the youngest homeowners in their community.

Michael had found his success years ago when he entered his career in journalism at a respected, local paper. After working there a couple years, the company was facing a financial crisis, and bankrupted its owner. He liked working there too much to let it fail, so he bought the company for a low price, and with the help of a modest loan. Less than a year later, Michael had succeeded in getting the business back on it’s feet, and even rising above and beyond where it was. In two years, it had expanded, and was currently one of the top news distributors in the middle Tennessee area.

Being the good guy he was, Michael had even brought his old boss back on the force in an administrative position, to repay him for giving Michael a chance. It had also been how Michael met Nicole. At the time, Nicole was a writer for an advice column, and caught his eye one day. They married a year later, and had been together ever since.

As he made his way into the living room, he sat down on the couch, and flipped on the tv. As he got comfortable, he heard a voice come from another room, “I smell french fries.”

Nicole came out from a hallway, and joined her husband on the couch, opening the paper bag, and pulled out the hot food. They sat there, enjoying their food as they watched a reality show they both enjoyed on their huge television screen. They could have afforded to hire a private chef to come in and cook their meals every day, but they had both come from modest upbringings, and didn’t see the need for such luxuries. But, with Michael’s company currently worth over two billion dollars, they could certainly enjoy the fine things in life.

Once they had finished their food, Nicole got up, heading to the kitchen, still dressed in pj pants and a tank top, “I’m getting a glass of wine, do you want anything?” she asked, looking back at her husband.

Michael shook his head, “No, I’m good.”

His wife turned back and turned a corner into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with her wine in hand, and sat back down, taking a sip. After a few minutes, Michael looked at his wife, appreciating her body for a moment. Despite looking like she had just gotten out of bed, her strawberry blonde hair was brushed and straight. She made it a point to work out when she could to keep her slim figure.

Feeling very attracted to her at the moment, he placed a hand on her thigh, moving it up and down along the soft fabric covering it. Nicole, still watching tv, slowly blinked her eyes, almost looking annoyed, “Not tonight, hun. I’m really just not in the mood.”

Michael brought his hand back to his lap, and returned his attention to the tv. A few years ago, when things were going really well for them financially, they began to go on little adventures. They loved travelling together, and their sex lives were quite active. Almost every night, they would try something new to keep their passion burning strong. Lately, their sexual bouts were much more sparse, and even more vanilla. They couldn’t figure out if they had simply tried everything, or were just getting bored.

If past experience was any indicator, it was unlikely Nicole would change her mind at any point that night. Getting up, Michael decided to go to his study, and sit at his desk while he enjoyed some porn on his computer. He had the feeling his wife was already aware of his reasons for doing so, but never said anything regarding that issue. All that did was support the idea she was starting to lose interest.

The next morning, Michael had gotten up early to work out at the private club he signed up for only last year. He and his wife liked to stay in fairly good shape. Nicole, however, signed up for a local gym, where she took spin class and yoga. Their mornings were often spent apart. After two hours of running along the track, and some calisthenics, he showered, and went to the smoothie bar for a drink.

“Hey, Mike!” a voice called out from the seating area nearby. Turning to look at the source, Michael saw a man with short, blonde hair, and wearing gym clothes. He recognized the man as his good friend, Avery. He had also done very well, financially. He wasn’t a CEO, but he was very high up on the food chain in a packaging and delivery company that had gone international several years back. He waved back at his friend, and took his orange and pineapple smoothie from the barista before going to sit with him.

“Avery, good to see you. How are things?” Michael asked politely.

“Not bad, business is good, stock’s going up.” Avery replied, trying not to look like he was bragging.

“That’s good. Anything exciting going on?” Michael inquired.

His friend shook his head as he took a sip of his smoothie through a red straw, “Not really, just the usual.”

Michael nodded, looking away. His friend must have sensed there was something on his mind.

“How are things with you and Nikky?” he asked, his voice sounded slightly concerned.

Michael came out of his thoughts, and forced a smile, “Things are fine.”

His friend furled his eyebrows, not convinced, “fine?” he mimicked, “What do you mean ‘fine’?

“It’s not a big deal,” he reassured his friend, “we’re just going through a bit of a dry spell, is all.”

Avery’s head popped up, as if remembering something, “Oh, yeah, been there before. Not a fun experience.”

“Does it ever feel like you just get bored?” Michael asked, “Like you just don’t seem to be adventurous anymore?”

“Sure,” Avery shrugged, “everyone goes through that, I guess. It’s perfectly normal.”

“Did you?” he inquired.

His friend nodded, “Of course.”

“So what did y’all do?” he asked his friend.

“Well… for me and Monica, it was different. But, couples in your case have a lot of options. You can do couple’s therapy, find some new experience to share, take a romantic date, things like that.”

This didn’t make Michael feel any better. He and Nicole had done these things before, and it didn’t seem to help.

“How was it different for you and Monica? What did you do?” he inquired, curious to know what his friend had tried, but Michael clearly hadn’t.

As if caught in some dilemma, Avery sat speechless for a moment, his mouth partially opened, trying to figure out what to say.

“It’s… hard to explain. And I don’t know if it’s something you and Nikky would try.”

This only heightened Michael’s curiosity, and intrigued him.

“What are you hiding, Avery?” Michael asked, his eyes narrowing, “Come on, we’re all friends. If it worked for you, then I must know.”

Avery didn’t respond right away. He simply looked down, his eyes shifting, like he was considering something. Michael was quiet, patiently waiting for his friend to decide. After nearly two minutes of silence, Avery responded.

“If I tell you, can you remain discreet, and open-minded?”

Michael nodded.

“You’re sure?” he responded, sounding quite serious.

Michael nodded again.

“Ok,” he leaned in, and spoke in a hushed tone, “There’s an exclusive nightclub in downtown Nashville. It’s members only, but I can sponsor you and Nikky. It saved my marriage, and I think it can do the same for you.”

A nightclub? Michael thought to himself. He had his doubts, but he trusted his friend.

“Call me next Thursday, and rent a hotel room near this address.” Avery instructed, jotting down something on the back of one of his business cards, “You’ll want to dress nicely. Classy, but not too formal. Tell Nikky to dress for dancing.”

Michael was starting to think he might be serious. An exclusive nightclub, with a dress code, and needing sponsorship? Those types of places were few and far in between nowadays. Whatever made this club so exceptional had Michael intrigued. He picked up the business card, and studied the address.

“Anything else I should know about?” he asked, almost feeling timid by what this place might be.

Avery stood up and thought a moment, then replied, “That’s about it, just remember to keep an open mind.” and with that, Michael’s friend left.

The following week passed by relatively uneventful. Michael told his wife about the conversation he had with Avery at the club that day. He told her about the exclusive nightclub, the dress code, and how it would somehow fix their relationship. Surprisingly, Nicole was on-board with the whole idea, noting how Monica always seemed to be so upbeat. Neither of them had spoken to Avery, or Monica, since that day, but were confident their friends had their best interests in mind.

Thursday had rolled around, and the couple had packed some of their nicer attire, and booked a room at a hotel only a short taxi ride away from the address. After an early dinner, the couple got dressed for the night. Michael put on one of his nicer button-ups, with a blue blazer, and deep blue slacks. He decided not to wear a tie with it, thinking it would look too serious. Nikky had chosen a silky red dress that stopped just above her knees, and hung over one of her shoulders.

She was still in the bathroom, fixing her hair when Michael got a phone call from Avery, “Hello?” he answered.

“Michael! Buddy! Are you guys nearby?” Avery exclaimed, sounding pretty excited.

“Yeah , we’re only a few minutes away. Nikky is just fixing her hair up now.”

“Perfect! We’re already at the club, it’s just opening. I’ve spoken with the hostess of the evening, and she’s expecting you. Just give her your names, and she’ll take care of the rest. We’ll see you inside, buddy!” The phone clicked as Avery hung up.

Michael was taken aback, but assumed his friend was just really eager to have the night begin. Avery was vouching for them, so he wanted to make a nice impression. He made sure that he looked good, smelled good, their outfits were crisp, and their demeanor was distinguished. Nicole was ready, and the two of them went downstairs and hailed a taxi.

“Can you take us to this address?” Michael told the driver, handing him the business card Avery gave him. The driver looked at the address, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Oh yeah, that place. I know where that is.” the driver replied, starting the meter.

“Can you tell us what the place is like?” Michael asked, hoping to learn something.

“Not much to say, never been inside. Just a lot of women walking in, looking like lingerie models.” the driver replied, sounding as if he were sorry he couldn’t be more helpful.

Five minutes of silent driving later, the driver stopped in front of a two-storied building that looked more like the front of an upscale restaurant. The only real, distinguishable feature was a sign bearing a large ‘m’ with an accented dash over it, and a circle around it. Michael paid the driver, and the couple stepped out. They saw other couples making their way inside the building as well. The women who came in with their dates were just as the taxi driver described. They made Nicole look as if she may have been overdressed.

As they stepped inside, they saw a small lobby area, with red carpet, and red, painted walls, and a low, black ceiling with small lights. There was a counter on one side where guests were signing in, and paying a lady at the register. Another woman stood behind the counter, wearing a gorgeous, silver dress. Her hair was auburn, and curled. Her hazel eyes studied the faces of the guests in the lobby, then met Michael’s eyes, and smiled, approaching them.

“Hello, are you new here?” she asked with a casual, yet flirty, voice.

“We are.” Michael replied.

“Oh, good! Do you have an appointment here?” she asked, picking up a clipboard.

“Umm, I think so. I’m Michael Davenport, and this is my wife, Nicole.” He replied, following Avery’s instructions.

A look of recognition rose in the hostess’ eyes, “Right! Our prospective members.” she replied, checking a list, “So you’re being sponsored by…. Mr. Avery Coleman?”

Michael smiled, “That’s correct, he’s a good friend of mine.” He was relieved. Nicole still looked quite nervous as she examined the other women who came in. Probably worried about her husband looking at them, wearing outfits leaving little to the imagination.

The hostess had them fill out an application, then pay a membership fee, and she filed it all away, looking even more perky.

“Alright, let’s take the tour!” she proclaimed. She led them through the large doors inside. Michael and Nicole were amazed to see inside was a large dance floor, with seating areas in the corners. The hostess pointed out the VIP areas, pole-dancing stages, a full bar, and a DJ booth. She led them upstairs, and showed them the other areas. They were shown a lounge, where couples seemed to be making out already, some with heavy petting, and a seating area, where groups of people gathered to talk and laugh.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention,” the hostess interjected, “Since this your first time, we want to express that you’re under no obligation to do anything you’re not comfortable doing. Feel free to just relax, make new friends, and just watch, if you want,” she said with a smile. As the tour continued, Michael and Nicole looked at each other with a look of concern. Both of them thinking, what kind of club is this, exactly?The hostess took them to another room which looked more like a dungeon with various BDSM apparatuses around.

“This is the room everyone calls ‘The Red Room’. As a lifestyle club, we ensure every fetish is accommodated, and make sure everyone is safe in their practice.” the hostess said those words so matter-of-factually. Michael and Nicole were in shock as they realized what kind of club they had been invited to. Any other time, the two of them would have just walked out. But Avery had vouched for them, and Michael had given his word to keep an open mind. He looked to his wife, who was blushing profusely, but seemed to still be on-board.

“Well, that’s the whole club! Do you have any questions for me?” the hostess asked, stopping them in the middle of the hall.

The two of them were silent for a second before Michael spoke up, “Do you know where I can find my friend, Avery?”

“Well, I would imagine if he’s not up here, then check the main dance area, you may find him there.” she answered.

“Ok, thank you.” Nicole replied before her husband could speak.

With a bright smile, the hostess turned and left them alone. Nicole exhaled loudly, still trying to take in the fact they were invited to a lifestyle club by their best friends.

“So… are you ready for this?” Michael asked his wife, nervously.

“I, uh… I-I think I need a drink before anything else. There was a bar downstairs, right?” Nikky replied, clearly flustered.

They both agreed on the way to the bar, they would at least stay for an hour or so, just to give it a try. At the bar, Michael ordered a beer, while his wife asked for a tall glass of red wine. Michael turned towards the dance floor, which was huge, and lit up with party lights often found at nightclubs. The music had an amazing beat, and felt almost seductive. Couples, and groups of people, were already dancing together, and women were already pole-dancing on the stages, wearing nearly nothing.

As he scanned the area, he barely recognized the back of his friend’s head, as he watched one of the pole-dancing stages, watching a rather sexy woman dancing. He pointed Avery out to Nicole, and they went over to meet him. Strangely, he seemed to be alone, even though Michael was sure he said Monica was with him too. He came around the man to check his face, wanting to be sure it was Avery. It was him, and his friend’s face lit up as his eyes met Michael.

“Buddy! You made it!” he spoke loudly, talking over the music. They shook hands, and Avery patted him on the shoulder, “How y’all liking it here?”

“Not what I expected at all!” Michael replied, also speaking over the music, “You said that you and Monica come here?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Well, where is she?” Michael asked, confused.

“What do you mean? She’s right here!” Avery answered as if it should have been obvious.

Michael and Nicole looked around their immediate area, turning their heads, inspecting the faces of the people around them. None of them looked like Monica. He felt his wife pat him on the arm, and looked towards her. Nicole was looking up towards the stage, and Michael saw why. On stage was a voluptuous woman with butterscotch blonde hair, curled, and reaching down to her large breasts. She wore a caramel-colored, cup-less bra that clearly wasn’t meant to cover her large breasts.

It was Monica, his best friend’s wife, twirling, and dancing so seductively around the metal pole in the middle of the stage. He’d never looked at her in this way, and now, he found it hard to take his eyes off of her. As she passed in front of them, her buttocks craned outward, using it to get people’s attention. Michael could see she was wearing a pair of crotch-less panties that matched the color of her bra. He only caught a glimpse of her labia poking out as she continued around the pole. As she came back, her eyes met Michael’s, and she smiled. Monica kept her eyes locked on him as she gyrated her hips, then spread her legs as she dipped, and Michael saw everything.

The song ended, and Monica stood up and left backstage, snapping Michael out of his trance. He looked towards Nicole, who had taken a big swig of her wine. They looked at each other, and Nicole’s eyes widened, as if to silently say ‘wow’. Avery was now leading them to a seated area near the stage. Michael always thought he knew his friend pretty well, but now, it was like he barely knew Avery and Monica at all.

“So, Monica works here?” Nicole asked, beginning to seem a bit tipsy. Normally, Michael would be worried, but his wife seemed a bit more confident. Michael followed suit, and took a large sip of his beer.

“No, that was her idea.” Avery answered her, “She doesn’t even get tips, she just does it to tease all the other guys here.”

“How did you even get involved with this place?” Michael asked.

Avery shrugged, “Same way you did. I was referred by a friend, Monica and I gave it a shot, and we liked it so much, we became members. I know it can seem a little intimidating at first, but people here are very friendly, and just wanna make you feel comfortable, y’know?”

“I can see that.” Nicole responded, “Hold on, I’m gonna get some more wine from the bar.”

Just after she left, Monica walked up from some backstage area, and joined them at the table, wearing a red bustier top with a pair of black spanx. Michael didn’t usually stare at Monica’s breasts, out of respect for his friend, but was now finding it hard not to. Now that he’d seen them in their full glory, his eyes were drawn to her huge mounds, which looked as though they might push out of her bustier any moment.

“Monica!” Nikky almost shouted the moment her friend sat down. Another glass of red wine in her hand, the other arm outstretched, looking to hug her busty friend.

“Hey, Nikky!” Monica greeted her, sitting up to embrace her, “I’m so glad you could come tonight.”

“Me too! You looked so sexy up there. I didn’t know you could dance like that!” Nikky exclaimed, sitting down next to her.

“I was just telling Michael about our first time here.” Avery interjected.

“Yes,” Michael chimed, “I’m just curious how you two managed to integrate, being new members, like us.”

Monica giggled, “We decided we would just jump in. Do something crazy.”

“Like?” Nikky asked.

“Well…” Monica began, giving a secretive smile to her husband, who returned it back to her, “The first time we were here, I swapped husbands with our sponsors, and we went upstairs for some fun.” Her eyes locked with Michael’s as she spoke the last part. He swallowed hard, and felt his face getting hot, and his pants became very tight. Monica and Avery always seemed so modest, up until this point.

She then turned to Nikky, and very starkly asked, “Would you mind if I took your husband for tonight, and you can take mine?”

Michael’s eyes widened, and for the moment, he was speechless. He looked at Avery, who seemed to look as confident as his wife did. Then looked at Nicole, who blushed profusely, and looked straight up as she took a rather large gulp of her wine. Michael was sure this was the moment his wife would freak out, and have them both running out of the club. Michael never expected to hear the words his wife spoke next.

She swallowed her wine, and responded with, “Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Michael felt a churning in his stomach, like too many butterflies at once. They all looked at him, and awaited Michael’s response.

“Uh, yeah, ok, let’s do it.” he didn’t know how else to reply. If his wife wanted to do it, and this was the best way to rekindle the excitement in their marriage, he wasn’t going to argue with it.

Monica took his hand, and led him out of his chair, and upstairs above the dance floor. Avery was walking arm-in-arm with Nicole just behind them. They came to an area that looked like a large, outdoor patio, with several round beds along it. Covering the beds were large, dark curtains, hanging like mosquito nets, but seemed to be meant for concealing whomever was inside. Monica picked the closest one, and everyone got inside, with Avery closing the curtain behind them.

The bed was actually quite comfortable, and had some throw pillows to lay your head on. Michael barely managed to get into a comfortable position before Monica managed to climb onto him, passionately pressing her lips into his, and pulling his blazer down past his shoulders. Michael nervously obliged, feeling like a deer in the headlights. He looked at Nicole, who seemed utterly shocked, then did the same to Avery, kissing him with an almost animalistic hunger. Was she competing with Monica?

Monica’s lips seemed experienced, and Michael decided he was going to enjoy himself. He slipped his blazer off, and placed one hand behind her back, pulling her in, while his other hand groped her curvy ass. He wanted to grab it ever since she flaunted it on stage. She purred in approval to his touch, and ran her fingers through his dark hair. Michael could feel the buttons of his shirt become undone, and wondered how he never fantasized about this before.

Nicole seemed to be one step ahead of them, with her hand already down Avery’s trousers, stroking him as they made out next to them. Avery was also grabbing Nicole’s ass, which made her coo in a way Michael hadn’t seen since they were dating. Seeing her with another man, especially his best friend, gave him mixed feelings of anger, and extreme arousal. Monica sensed Michael’s attention was towards Nikky, and stopped kissing him to look at her as well. She grabbed Michael’s chin, and brought his eyes back to her.

“Does that turn you on? Seeing your wife do that to my husband?” she purred with a heat of lust.

“Yeah.” he replied, he couldn’t deny how much it turned him on, and only seemed to make his desire for Monica even stronger. Monica smiled deviously, and unzipped his pants, reaching in to find his hard member. He quivered at Monica’s touch, and felt himself throb. She took hold of him, and moved her hand up and down his shaft. Although he wasn’t huge, he was still above average. She kept her face extremely close to Michael’s face, watching, and enjoying, the reactions on his face as she pleased his erect cock.

Michael wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt this turned on in his entire life. Whether it was because of Monica, or because she was Avery’s wife, or the fact that Avery was about to sleep with his wife, it was hard to tell. He wanted even more. He regained his focus, and unfastened the back of Monica’s red bustier. She did nothing to stop him, but only bit her lip as her breasts became more and more unbound.

Once it came off, Michael tossed it aside, and grabbed her beautiful mounds with both hands, massaging them. Monica seemed to approve, as she tightened her grip on his member, and sped up her stroking. Michael took one of her breasts into his mouth, sucking on her nipple, as he pinched the other. Monica let out an audible moan, which gave that away as her weakness. Michael focused on her nipples, while she worked his cock, until she could take no more.

With her body starting to heat up, Monica pulled herself off of Michael, and yanked off his slacks, revealing his hard shaft, standing straight up. She took his rod in her hand again, but just to guide him into her lips, taking him deep into her mouth. Michael’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy as her head frantically bobbed up and down on him. He reached down and grabbed a handful of her butterscotch blond hair. He could see Nicole watching her, jaw dropped in awe.

Not to be outdone, Nikky immediately pulled down Avery’s trousers, and did the same. Avery exhaled, and laid his head flat on the bed. The two couples looked as though they were having a contest to see who’s wife could give the other husband a better blow job. Michael wasn’t sure how much longer he would last if this kept on going the way it was. He could only imagine how much his friend was enjoying Nicole’s performance.

Monica finally raised her head, and ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it all back where it was. She pulled Michael up towards him, and kissed him deeply once more, before moving away, and turned her back towards him. She pulled her spanx down past her knees, and off her ankles, and bent over in front of him.

“You’re gonna take me just like this, babe.” she spoke with a slutty voice he never imagined her making. And yet, she was ready to have him fuck her, with her curvy ass looking so enticing. Her womanhood opened for him, begging for his shaft.

He brought his erect cock to her inviting pussy, and with a single thrust, slid his entire length inside her. She moaned loudly as he pushed into her. The walls of her pussy seemed to constrict around him, squeezing his member. She felt so amazing that Michael had to keep going, keep thrusting into her. Monica pushed back into him, her ass smacking into Michael’s hips.

Monica’s moans of pleasure caught Nicole’s attention, and she decided she would take control instead. Quickly getting out of her panties, she held Avery’s chest down, and climbed onto his lap, sliding herself down onto his shaft. Now, her moans joined Monica’s and she rocked her hips, grinding herself into Avery’s dick. She seemed to be enjoying Avery about as much as Michael enjoyed Monica. The heady scent of sex was building in that enclosed space, and all inhibitions had melted away.

Michael looked at his wife while he continued to thrust into Monica, and Nicole looked back at him, still riding Avery. Michael grabbed his wife’s hair, and kissed her with a passion he’d never felt before. He groped her breast as she started bouncing on his friend’s cock, and feeling Michael touch her seemed to push her over the edge. Nicole’s lips broke away from her husband’s and she let out a high-pitched moan, which Michael knew meant she was climaxing. Avery grunted, and it looked like he was releasing his load in his wife as well.

Not more than a few moments later, Monica started pushing into Michael’s cock harder, her moans getting higher. Michael felt her get tighter, and a wave of heat ran past his cock as she climaxed all around him. Michael grabbed her hips, and pulled her in with each thrust, holding himself back from cumming so he could make Monica’s orgasm as strong as possible. She only gripped him tighter and tighter until Michael reached his tipping point, and released his load deep into Avery’s wife.

Once their orgasms subsided, they all collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily.

“Holy fuck,” Monica spoke first, “Nikky, I didn’t know your husband had it in him!”

Nicole chuckled, “I haven’t seen him fuck like that since we started dating!”

They all laughed, then fell silent for a moment.

“We gotta do this again sometime.” Avery said casually, and everyone laughed again, and gave gestures of agreement.

Back at the hotel, Michael and Nicole were just walking back into their room. They had spent the rest of the night, drinking, joking, and conversing with their good friends. It seemed as though their friendship would never be the same, but was undeniably better than before. Before leaving, Michael and Nicole expressed their intention to become full members of the nightclub. They had found a new excitement in their marriage, and were willing to continue this path of discovery.

Michael immediately took off his blazer, and sat on the edge of the bed. He figured Nikky would want to go straight to sleep, but it seemed she had other plans. She put her purse down on the table, and pushed her husband flat on the bed. Surprised, Michael watched as his wife took off his slacks, and went straight to work, taking his softened prick in her mouth. ‘Again?’ He thought to himself. She made him fully erect in seconds.

She pulled her mouth off his member, and kept stroking it with her hand. Then looked up into his eyes, and spoke in her own slutty voice, “I can still taste Monica’s pussy on your cock, baby.” Then took him back in her mouth.

Michael was pleasantly surprised, and found himself lusting for his wife in ways he’d forgotten he did before. He didn’t have to say anything, she was already climbing onto him. She hiked up her skirt, and Michael saw she hadn’t even put her panties back on! She hungrily took her husband’s whole length into her, and rode him.

“I wanna go back…” she said between moans.

“We will.” Michael replied.

“And I want to dance on that stage.” she moved her hips faster.

“I’ll watch you.” he obliged.

“I want meet more couples.” his wife moaned out.

“Yeah…” Michael was about to release another load into her.

Nicole gripped his shirt, leaned down so she could whisper into his ear while grinding into him, “And then I want you to fuck me in the Red Room….”

Together, they orgasmed for each other.


Thanks for reading! Check the Erotic Bites section for more stories like this one. See you next week!

9 Tips to get you from Amateur to Less Amateurish

I hope you’ll all excuse some of the brashness I’ll be using in this post, as I’ve become somewhat frustrated with the current standards of erotica-writing. Let me begin by saying there are TONS of great writers out there with some amazing work going out on a regular basis. With that said, when I first came out into the erotica genre, I was very happy with what I was finding. There was a website I got all my stories from(very small site, only a handful of stories compared to Literotica or LushStories), but every time I read a story, I was always bewitched by the situations contained within, and lost myself in the elegant stories that made me blush. It was because those stories were so well done, it inspired me to try and write a few myself, and aspire to the same quality.

I wrote some good ones, and some bad ones, but all of them helped me reach the level I’ve reached now, and I continue to try and improve myself today. Recently, things have changed, and standards have been lowered quite a bit. I don’t want to blame Wattpad, but… I blame Wattpad. Although it’s a nice idea, it does have it’s flaws, including having an age restriction as low as thirteen for all genres. Along with that comes the need to give praise, even if it’s not that good. Otherwise, giving any sort of criticism is frowned upon, or just dejected if it happens to be constructive.

However, this is my domain you are in now, and I will say what I have to say here. The new generation of erotica writers have a lot to learn if they want to ever want to be taken seriously. I say this, not as a hater, but as someone who began right where they did, but didn’t have the luxuries of Wattpad and to give me immediate gratification. If you don’t believe me, just go see for yourself.

I’ll wait.

But it doesn’t stop there either. I recently joined an erotica group on the Whisper app to try and connect with other writers and readers, hoping to expand my circle. Not only is my circle roughly the same size, but I feel like I was hanging my hook in the wrong part of the lake. The majority of whispers I see in that group vary from people asking to have a story given/written for them in the PM chat on the spot, to guys advertising their stories exclusively for women, and a few rate requests. Every story I managed to read from users all had some things in common: very short, written in first and second person, multiple perspectives, and way too straightforward. I’m gonna be the asshole for a moment and just say what I really feel: that’s not erotica, that’s just cheap sexting.

Ok, I’m very sorry for the ranting, but I’ve just had my whiskey.

Now, instead of sitting here complaining about it all night, I’m going to do the right thing, and try to give a few constructive tips to help improve your stories(if you happen to be one of these struggling writers). I can’t say for sure how many tips I’ll be able to give you as I write this, but I’ll be as thorough as I can.

1. NEVER do the laundry list!!

You’ve probably seen me mention this a few times in earlier posts, but in case you don’t know, this is the laundry list:

Hi, my name is Michelle and I’m 22 years old. I have long, brown hair and blue eyes, I’m about 5’4″ and very petite with 32D breasts…

And so on and so forth. Listen, I understand the need to make sure the reader has a clear visual of the situation for the sake of accuracy, but it hinders more than it helps. Readers have an imagination too, and erotica is about playing with the reader’s imagination. Rather than describe the exact details of your characters in the first couple sentences like they’re writing a dating profile, maybe try to allude to it instead. Mention certain details as they become necessary, and try not to be extremely specific. Maybe bring up the fact your character is at the beach, before letting me know they’re wearing a bikini. It would make more sense then.

Also, numbers can play a terrible role in description. Even if most descriptors involve the use of numbers, you can make it easier to read either by writing ‘eight’ instead of ‘8’, or remove them altogether, and use different types of description. Saying a woman has a 32D chest is pretty exact, but also compels me to go onto google to see exactly what 32D looks like. It’s so much easier, and paints a better picture in your reader’s mind if you say something like, ‘The top was pretty loose, but she filled it in pretty well. She often had to adjust herself, making sure the top button didn’t suddenly pop off.’ Now, doesn’t that sound a lot better than ’32D’? You can use this kind of descriptive power to create an image that isn’t specific, but allows the reader to dream up their own perfect version of your character.

The laundry list may not always be a deal-breaker, but most readers will click away once they read that. Even if the rest of your story is awesome.

2.Originality through new situations.

It’s entirely understandable, and I’m not going to give you grief, because I also did this when I first got started writing. Certain things happen all the time, and it helps to practice by writing about simple situations. But if you really want to make an impression, you’ll need to do more than write about a boyfriend and girlfriend having sex, or two people meeting, then going back to someone’s house to have sex. Even if there are no new styles of erotica plots to go with, there are still millions of ways your interactions can play out.

Take a moment and consider this plot often used by new writers: a girl likes a guy who has a really nice body, but is too embarrassed to say anything to him. Later, the guy comes up to her instead, and wants to know if she likes him. The two then go on to have sex in her room. Think about that situation for a moment, and tell me how often that situation actually happens, just like that. Picture this happening to you and (insert other person you know), and tell me if that would actually happen if it was you two playing that out. I’m going to guess the guy doesn’t have a perfect body, and the woman doesn’t have huge tits. Nor do I think you and the other person would just go on and fuck simply for the asking.

Certain things happen only under the right conditions, at the right time, and when the right people are involved. Give your characters motivation to act in a certain way to a certain situation. Create a character with personality traits that would allow them to get in a particular situation. If it helps, base your characters and stories on actual events in your life, or those of people you know.

3. Mixing Genres.

Now, this is a bit of an advanced tactic in erotica writing, but one that is very effective for drawing the attention of readers. Just about anywhere you look, you’ll find erotica websites filing every story it gets under one genre. If you click the link labelled ‘Lesbian’, *poof!* you’ll get every lesbian story that site has to offer. For the amateur writer, this may look like you’ll need to write a lesbian story if you want it to be featured in that lesbian section. Well, you can, but you don’t have to; and I recommend the latter.

Just because stories are filed under one kind of genre, doesn’t mean you’re limited to writing just in that genre. Mixing other elements can create more depth, and a much more engaging storyline. Instead of just writing about a lesbian interaction, why not go as far as to write about a lesbian’s first time bdsm/femdom experience. If you’re feeling really bold, use some extreme genre mixing, like a lesbian/alien/impregnation. Seriously, that kind of stuff exists! And people go for that kind of stuff!

4. Engaging sexual encounters.

When you imagine how sex would be narrated, what comes to mind? Do you imagine a description of sexual organs, their size, the state of their arousal, and their actions vis a vis intercourse? Perhaps you would describe the speed of intercourse, how hard the thrusting is, or that climactic moment of orgasm? These are all very good descriptors of sexual intercourse, but is that really all there is? Oh, absolutely not; there’s so much more going on than that.

If you want to create a sex scene that places the reader in the story, then you need to create a stronger illustration. One piece of advice I received on this is to use the five senses. A man caresses a woman’s skin. Now tell me, does her skin feel soft, is it smooth, does she have any imperfections your character overlooks, does anything feel big, or small, or hard? When you have sex, you usually notice a woman’s perfume, or a guy’s musk, or just a clean scent. Sex itself also has it’s own odor in the room, from a combination of sweat and other sexual secretions. Speaking of secretions, guys and ladies go down on their partner all the time, and those naughty bits have their own flavors as well.

Sex is also a full-body experience, and is not limited to the penis, vagina, breasts, and sometimes anus. A lot goes on you may not be fully aware of. A woman’s breasts get slightly bigger, and her nipples harden when aroused. Skin takes on a redness around the neck and chest immediately following orgasm. Your back and limbs will sometimes move involuntarily as a result of stimulation. Understanding your anatomy, and how it can respond during sex, can help broaden the scope of what’s happening in your scene.

It would also help tremendously to prevent overuse of certain words to describe certain parts or actions. Sticking to words like cock, dick, pussy, cunt, jizz, cum, fuck, pound, tits, and clit might turn some people off instead. There’s a myriad of ways you can describe these parts, or these actions, without needing to be so overly vulgar. Although, sometimes a bit of vulgarity can help at certain points in the scene, but should still be used sparingly. Take a bit of time, and research other terms or descriptors for these.

5. Creating a fantasy.

Erotica exists to allow us to either dream up, or live through, romantic and erotic situations each of us may not be able to experience otherwise due to circumstances outside of our control. That’s why it’s important to create something compelling, and outside the scope of things that happen all the time. As I mentioned in point 2, some things won’t happen unless the right people are in the right circumstances to make things happen. Just as important as the backstory, is the plot that follows that situation. This can work for you in one of two ways: creating the solution, or creating circumstances.

When I wrote “Truth or Dare”, the situation that jumpstarted the story actually occurred to an anonymous redditor who recounted an extremely depressing situation. He really did get left out of the orgy occurring in the large shower, and felt horrible about it. I created a solution, and retold the story, but changing it to include the older blonde walking in, and devising a way to get back at her daughter, and helping the guy get the experience of his life. In other instances, I’ll write a story based on a fantasy someone shares with me. In these cases, what they want is clear, but not how it happens. In these stories, I have to come up with a set of circumstances that would result in the desired fantasy taking place.

In this endeavor, my best advice is to purchase some composition notebooks, or some other medium for keeping notes, and write a detailed summary of what your story is about. This helps you to visually see where any plot gaps might exist, as well as work as a guide for where to go next in your story. It may seem like a little extra work, but it goes a long way to ensure your story stays on track, and the words keep flowing.

6. Dynamics and Dialogue.

I nearly forgot to put this in, but it’s such an important thing to have. This relates back to when I spoke about how certain situations wouldn’t likely happen if it was you in their place. Is your character the type of person to respond positively when given the choice to engage in anonymous sex with a stranger, or someone they admire from afar? A flat character isn’t going to be very relatable, or likeable. You need someone who displays certain quirks, has a particular knowledge of certain things, or has a tendency to act a certain way. I want to understand why your character makes the choice I wouldn’t personally make.

How do you show off that personality? Through a great use of dialogue, of course. Characters aren’t always aware of what’s going on, and they can get confused, or misread the room. Dialogue can drive a story forward, and can reveal how characters appear to those around them, rather than how they appear internally. They need a sense of humor, or a snarky comeback to a rude comment, or even proficiency in convincing others to do what they want. You can keep a reader’s attention if you can convince them your characters could be real people.

7. Perspective.

How could I forget about perspective?! No, seriously, that was one of the major issues I found with new writers. They often change the perspective between two characters more often than Game of Thrones will. Perspective is not something a writer can, or should, change often. Most writers will tell the story from only one person’s perspective, and use ques and gestures to allude to the thoughts of other characters. Just like in life, things come as a surprise, and keep our interest, because we don’t know what the other person is thinking. It makes for much better tension when a secondary character reveals something organically, than for the reader to know everyone’s thoughts all the time.

Most of the time, the writer will tell the story from the woman’s perspective. But that’s rather easy to understand, given how most readers of erotica are female. It’s not a requirement to write from a female perspective, though. It can still work very well to use male perspective too.

Check out: On Female Perspective

8. Foreplay, people!

This is such an important detail when writing your sex scene. People won’t have sex at the drop of a hat, and people are not constantly horny(at least most people). There has to be a bit of touching, carefully chosen dialogue, and the unsuspecting aspect of knowing more than you let on. Take a few moments and carefully think about specific things that take you from zero to horny in seconds. Do you have some erogenous areas that get you every time, or is it a certain body part that draws your attention when it’s made bare? I’m willing to bet there’s a few things you like to do, or have done to you, before any kind of sex happens at all.

Foreplay needs to be included before sex occurs between your characters as well. They need to be built up, horned up, and brought to the edge of ‘I need your naked body, now!’

9. Afterglow.

Just as you need to have foreplay to build up to your sex scene, you need the afterglow that immediately follows intercourse. There’s a few minutes right after the sex is over where the body goes through it’s cool down period. Breathing is still heavy from the huge rush of blood through the body, and recovery from the work you’ve put into achieving orgasm. There’s also subtle things, like the rush of endorphins released when you climax, and the high that follows. Muscles feel like jelly, sex organs feel tingly, and you feel very relaxed.

Personalities also change once the sex is over. I can guarantee, regular-you and horny-you have very different agendas. Once horny-you is satisfied, regular-you comes back into play, and needs a moment to assess the situation. Sometimes, regular-you regrets what you just did, and wants to leave. Other times, you’ll want to know where things go from there, or you’re just happy to be laying next to the person you’re with.

Well, I think that’s about everything I can come up with for the moment. I may do another one of these if I can think of more. I hope those of you new to erotica writing can take something away from what I’ve provided in this post. If you’re angry at me, I can only guess it’s because I’ve called you out on your cheap sexting, and you’re not willing to admit it. In that case, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I wish you luck in your endeavors.

Oh, also: If you guys ever have any ideas on topics for me to look into, you’re always free to contact me and tell me about it. I promise I’ll do my best to look into it, and provide some answers, if I can.

Hot Motives

This week’s Erotic Bite is another story inspired by the fantasies of a reader(my favorite kind). Robin is looking to relax in the sun and the sand, and decides to tease a voyeuristic lifeguard on duty. When he approaches her, it becomes more than what Robin bargained for. Enjoy!

Just fifteen minutes before five o’clock, and the beach was beginning to empty out. This was probably one of the best times to venture out into the sand, and enjoy the sun. Most of the tourists, or at least the ones who chose to come to this beach, were packing up and leaving to go have dinner. There was probably another hour or so before the sun was about to set, so it was best to find a spot soon. That was a bit difficult, because people at the good spots hadn’t left yet.

Raising a hand over her face, the young woman shielded the bright sun from her grey eyes, adorned with black-frame glasses, and scanned the area for a good patch of sand. The beach tended to slope upward away from water, but wasn’t very wide. If she didn’t find a good spot, she’d be chased off by the rising tide before she could get a good tan. She didn’t come to the beach to tan very often, but on those occasions she did, there was always a good spot for her. With people still in the middle of packing up, she’d have to venture out further.

Walking along the sand, with a towel under her arm, and a beach bag over her shoulder, she exhaled discontentedly. She wore her usual tanning attire of blue bikini bottoms, and a black spaghetti-strap bikini top. She liked her bikini top, which helped to reduce tan lines, but also looked really good on her. Even if she had an average chest size, she filled it pretty well. She certainly had no problem getting a few looks from guys anyway.

If it wasn’t her bikini, it was also because of her hair. She added green highlights to her short, raven hair on a dare back in high school, and fell in love with the look. Years later, she still liked how the green contrasted the black. Not much further ahead, way past her usual spot, was a lifeguard station, sitting below a cliff. It was usually easy to walk from the beach and go inland, but the cliff seemed to rise from almost nowhere.

The young woman, Robin, almost walked right past the lifeguard station when she noticed something. Behind the small building, etched through the cliff, there was a tiny alcove. It was far enough away from the tide, and received plenty of sun. Best of all, there was no one else there using it. Smiling, Robin hurried to the alcove, dropping her beach bag, and laying out her large beach towel. Looking straight up, the cliff seemed almost daunting, but peaceful.

Sitting down, Robin went to work, taking her tanning oil from her bag, and rubbing it all over her skin. Looking up towards the lifeguard station, she wondered if there might be any studs on watch just inside. Nobody seemed to be around, and she couldn’t tell if someone might be on duty. Shrugging it off, she continued to cover her thighs, and watched them begin to shine in the sunlight. Of all her body parts, she liked her thighs and hips the most. Though most guys would disagree with her, she thought her hips and thighs were her only good feature.

Once she finished with the oil, she laid back, raised her glasses up and placed them on top of her head, and closed her eyes, absorbing the warm sun. Laying there, she would occupy her time just getting lost in her thoughts. Although it was a mystery to her, feeling the sun always made her feel a bit more confident. She recalled reading an article about sunlight releasing pleasurable endorphins, which elevate one’s mood. Whenever she felt this way, Robin would sometimes fantasize about chatting up a handsome guy, and taking him home for some casual fun. Of course, in reality, she was usually a goofy mess of anxiety whenever she was around a handsome guy.

But since her thoughts had gotten to that point, she pictured a hunky lifeguard this time. Stepping out of the building, and carrying her off to make love by the water. She smiled to herself, bring her hand up to lightly move her fingers along her stomach. She stopped for a moment, looking up from her beach towel to check around her for anyone who could be watching. Luckily, no one was around, and no one was even close to where she was tanning. With any luck, there wouldn’t be anyone there to disturb her at all.

Laying back down, she returned to her fantasies, and allowed her hand to caress her own skin once again, moving across the top of her chest. She wondered if she should dare to take it a step further, and let her hand move underneath the fabric of her bikini. As the thought crossed her mind, she was surprised by the sound of something clatter. Jumping up, she looked around, seeing no one. Then another clatter, and her eyes shot straight for the lifeguard station. The door had opened and closed, and one of the lifeguards had stepped outside onto the small terrace.

It was still at least thirty yards away, but Robin brought her glasses back onto her face, and tried to make out who it was. It wasn’t a ‘Baywatch’-style bimbo, or the burly, muscled hunk she was just dreaming about, but the man who had stepped out was still kinda fit. Robin figured lifeguards needed to have at least some amount of physical fitness about them. The lifeguard was an average height, and she could make out his short, brown hair from here. He wore the same red swim trunks they all did, but they looked a bit big for him.

As she watched him, she thought it was strange how he hadn’t even looked in her direction. You would think a woman like Robin would be hard to miss amongst the white sand all around her. She couldn’t make out his face, but he brought something up to his eyes, like a pair of binoculars. He was watching the other beach-goers, looking for any kind of distress, or anything that would need his attention. Robin laid back down, letting the man do his job, then brought her head up again after a couple moments.

Something made Robin want to watch this guy a bit longer. The lifeguard looked like he was just observing the pedestrians, but then his hand moved. Robin almost missed it, but she caught what he did. His hand had moved down to his swim trunks, and rubbed over the material. She wondered if he was really doing what she thought he was doing. She wasn’t sure, but the guy angled his body away from her direction, and she knew it right then. He was trying to pull it off without her noticing!

The lifeguard was perving on the women in their bikinis, watching from far enough away, none of them would even notice he was there. No one, but Robin, it seemed. The guy was probably on duty in that building all alone, and nothing else to do. But why had he not tried to spy on her? Not that she wanted him to, she didn’t even know the guy, but he would have had a better view of her, rather than everyone else. She reasoned, perhaps it was because it would be too obvious to her if he did.

The lifeguard rounded the corner of the wooden terrace, and stepped behind the building, and out of Robin’s view. Her mouth sat slightly agape at his gall, and scoffed at him. She laid her head back down, and tried to lose herself in her thoughts again. For a moment, her mind was blank, then she pictured what that guy was probably doing behind the building. She imagined his hand was fully in his trunks, stroking himself as he watched bikini-clad babes splashing in the water, and bending over to pick their stuff up.

Without meaning to, the image of him stroking himself stuck in her mind. Her imagination went further, picturing what his dick looked like. Was it big, or on the smaller side, and did it have any thickness to it? She couldn’t believe her thoughts would get that dirty, but she unintentionally started feeling herself become wet. ‘Seriously?’ she thought to herself. She could hardly believe the thought of the lifeguard jerking off was turning her on.

After a minute, she realized her legs were very slowly parting on their own. A desire to reach down and act on her naughty thoughts was beginning to build in her, even if the reason repulsed her. Robin argued internally, maybe if she tried to think about the hunk again, she could touch herself a little guilt-free. She checked once more to see if the pervy lifeguard was still away, then reached down and pulled the fabric away from her mound. Even if no one was looking, exposing herself in public brought her some immediate arousal.

Biting her lip, her fingers found her labia, and rubbed it in small circles, imagining what that hunk was doing to her. Strangely, it wasn’t doing much, and her imagination kept trying to pull back to the pervy lifeguard. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was apparent she wanted to fantasize about him. Speaking of which, she peeked up while rubbing to check on him. There was no sign of him, but she wondered what would happen if he was.

Robin did spot something, but couldn’t tell what she saw. There was a shape concealed by the corner of the station, but she couldn’t tell if it was nothing, or if it was him trying to peek on her. Whatever the case, it didn’t appear to stop Robin from continuing to rub herself. Some part of her wanted to see what would happen if she let him watch her. Her fingers moved in further, and started to coat in her honey. Her fingers were already slicked from rubbing the tanning oil earlier, and brought her more pleasure as she teased her slit.

She peeked up towards him again, and he was clearly visible now. He stood there, leaning against the wall of the station, watching her, his arm moving in his trunks. Now that she saw him fully, and unapologetically, her arousal built up more. She didn’t even realize she was into exhibitionism until this moment, and it thrilled her. Part of her wanted him to come over to her, but she was a bit reluctant to invite a total stranger. Especially as she wasn’t entirely sure he was good-looking.

Robin took things a step further, and slid the fabric of her bikini top off of her breasts, letting them get some sun as well. She pretended not to see the lifeguard there, stroking himself to the image of Robin pleasuring herself. The more aware she became of him, the more exciting the act was for her. She wondered how well he could see her, and how excited he was getting. Did he get as turned on watching, as she did being watched?

Just as she was enjoying herself, she heard a faint noise of sand crunching nearby. She looked up again, squinting from the sunlight as she realized the lifeguard was now only a few feet away from her. That was the funny thing about sand: it muffles most footsteps, unless that person is right next to you. Towering over her, the fit-looking lifeguard looked down at her, with a playful little smirk on his face. Now that Robin got a good look at him, she realized he was actually quite handsome.

His body was a bit more pale than you would expect a beach lifeguard to have, and certainly more light-skinned that Robin. He was definitely no hunk, but he looked like he was a bit athletic. He carried the scent of sunscreen on him, which Robin already found appealing. She felt like she was going to blush heavily as she stopped touching herself for a moment. In any other situation, she may have just awkwardly walked away, but she was still horny, and that gave her a strange kind of confidence.

“Hi there,” she spoke playfully, “Did you come here to watch me?”

He chuckled nervously, “Um.. yeah? You looked like you didn’t mind.”

Robin blushed a little as she replied, “I don’t.”

“Well,” he started awkwardly, “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I got a bit closer, then.”

Feeling better about this handsome lifeguard, she gave him a flirtatious smile, “So, you like to watch?” she pulled the fabric even further away from her slit, fully exposing herself to him. She hadn’t even bothered to cover her breasts during the interaction.

As the lifeguard brought his blue eyes further down her body to watch, his hand reached back into his trunks. This time, however, he pulled out his almost fully-erect member, stroking as he pointed it at her. To Robin’s surprise, he was actually pretty thick, even if the length was only average. Watching him pleasure himself to Robin’s body heightened the pleasure she felt from her own fingers, and little, breathy moans began to escape her lips as her eyes stayed locked on him. If this kept up, she might reach climax even more quickly.

As her breathing became more rapid, and her finger strokes more invasive, the lifeguard came closer. He stepped next to her, and took a seat on the sand beside her. Robin’s first thought was he just wanted a really close view, and she had to admit, she wanted a closer view of his cock as well. Her moans became a bit more audible, and Robin began to wonder if the lifeguard planned on shooting his load on her when he finished. Instead, he stopped stroking himself for a moment, and placed his hand on Robin’s. Casually moving her hand away from between her legs, and replaced it with his own hand.

A nervous churn was felt in Robin’s stomach as she felt his unfamiliar touch. She was having fun touching herself while he watched, but she didn’t think he would be so bold as to touch her without her say so. Even if her first instinct was to bat his hand away, his fingers immediately rubbed small circles around her tiny nub, just as she usually did to herself. It was weird to feel this way, but Robin kept quiet, and didn’t stop him. Strangely, Robin didn’t really hate it either.

The fluttering in her stomach persisted, but was lessened when his fingers entered her. She was already quite wet from her own fingering, and it helped his fingers slide into her with ease. She let out a louder moan, and leaned up, holding herself up by her elbows. She watched as his middle finger invaded her, and worked inside her as if he knew exactly what to do. Robin couldn’t tell if it was because she was already so close, or the fact the lifeguard was a stranger, but he was bringing her even closer to orgasm. She may have been reluctant to let him do this to her, but she found herself hoping he wouldn’t stop.

She let out quick, short breaths, reaching the edge of climax, and feeling her muscles tighten. She looked over at the lifeguard once more, and saw him lick his lip in anticipation. All at once, her eyes clenched, her breath shortened, and her legs close around his hand as she contracted against his fingers, feeling a full-body orgasm rush through her. She barely managed to let a few words out mid-way through.

“Oh, fu-uck,” she mewed.

Once the shockwave of pleasure ran through her body, the son of a bitch had the nerve to keep going, making her suffer the post-climax tickling feeling on her sensitive nub. She quickly grabbed his arm and pulled it away, laying back, and trying to catch her breath again. Robin felt a high she hadn’t experienced in some time. It had been a while since a man had managed to give her this much satisfaction in such a hot act of foreplay.

The lifeguard chuckled at her playfully, pulling his arm away, and standing up again. He brushed the sand off his body, and made his way back to the station building. Robin was astonished by the lack of the lifeguard to do anything more. At that point, he could have taken her right there, and Robin would have happily given herself to him. Was he simply returning to work after a quick break, or did he just get his jollies from titillating beach babes?

As she watched him reach the small building, and step back inside, Robin couldn’t help but feel a little insulted by his devil-may-care attitude towards her sexual gratification. She became suddenly aware of her state, and rushed to cover herself up again. Sitting up, she tried to process what was going on, and what this whole situation meant. Was he actually interested in her, and why didn’t he bother making sure he got off from her as well? Was this some cruel joke, or was there some other reason for leaving her wanting like that?

Despite the fact she was usually so mild-mannered, Robin had made the decision of going up to him to find out exactly what the hell was going on. Working past her quivering legs, she stood up, leaving her towel and beach bag where they were, and marched straight for the building. She was going to have a little chat with him, and would probably end with him either giving her a damn good explanation, or a broken nose. As the station building got closer, the nervous feeling was starting to come back again. Civilians aren’t usually allowed in these things, but then again, neither is indecent exposure on a public beach.

She hesitated just before she reached the door, but hyped herself up once more, taking a deep breath before grabbing the doorknob, and letting herself in. The small building had the generic blue carpet you usually see in city-owned buildings. There was only one table in the room, a card table with foldable legs, with matching chairs. There was a cabinet with a walkie unit, equipment around it, and bottles of water. It was very minimalist for a lifeguard station; no wonder the guy spied on women.

As she barged in, she spotted the guy standing by the tinted window, binoculars in hand, probably continuing his antics. It wasn’t until now that she realized there could have been other people in here as well, and she wouldn’t have known. Luckily for her, there wasn’t. The lifeguard seemed legitimately surprised to see her walk in the building on him. His eyes widened at the sight of her, and he stood there almost frozen.

Robin didn’t know what had come over her. It was as if there was some primal part of her the lifeguard had awakened, and it was on the hunt. A fire was burning inside of her, and she needed to let that fire out. With a toying smile, she closed the door behind her, and approached her prey, grabbing him by the arms, and pushing him against the wall. She hadn’t noticed before, as she was laying on a towel, but Robin was actually a bit taller than him.

He looked up at her, his eyes looking almost terrified. Robin quelled his anxiety as she brought her lips to his, kissing him with all the intensity she could muster in her primal state of lust. As she kept her body pressed up against his, she felt his bulge beginning to grow again against her leg. For whatever reason, as confident as the young man was before, when he toyed with Robin, he seemed at a loss to react at this moment. What if that’s what this was about, and he just never thought it would get this far? To be fair, she was slightly apprehensive when he touched her.

In any event, she wanted him now, and needed to satisfy the hunger that had been building up in her. As she broke the kiss, Robin pulled the guy away from the wall, and down onto the floor. He grunted as his body made a thud on the blue carpet, groaning from the rough treatment. Before he had the chance to roll onto his side, Robin was already straddling him, dropping her butt onto his pelvis, crushing into him. He groaned again, but didn’t give her any resistance. All he could manage to do was let out a hoarse mumble, which sounded a bit like, “What the hell?”

Smiling like a beast that just caught it’s prey, she reached under herself, pulling down the elastic band of his red trunks, and reaching inside. She found dick, softened as it usually does when a guy experiences pain, and began playing with it. She wasn’t planning to leave until she got what she wanted. He became hard rather quickly in her hand, changing the expression on the lifeguard’s face. He still looked stunned by her behavior, but also appeared to welcome it more and more.

Robin felt the fabric beneath her mound begin to feel wet against the skin of her labia, soaked from her own orgasmic honey. A warm wave passed through her body as anticipation set in, affecting her newfound primal nature further. She kept her eyes locked on his, her expression screaming ‘fuck me’. The lifeguard seemed to get emboldened by her, and tried leaning up and pushing sideways in an attempt to reverse the positions. Robin responded with a strong hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the floor where he belonged.

Raising herself above his pelvis, she yanked the fabric away from her snatch, and rubbed the head of his member up and down along her slit. She watched his face, and saw the how badly he wanted to be inside her. Unwilling to hold back any longer, Robin lowered herself onto him, impaling herself with his erect cock. She let out a long moan of satisfaction, not realizing how sexually hungry she was until this moment. Feeling his thick member spread her walls open felt as good as a first bite into a bar of chocolate.

Robin felt like this feeling couldn’t get any better, until she began to move on him. Rocking her hip forward, then back, there was an electric feeling she hadn’t felt in ages, since she moved out of her ex’s place. She slouched forward, supporting herself by her hands, placed on either side of the young man. She continued to rock her hips on his pelvis, feeling his prick moving inside her. Noises began to escape her throat, whimpers and tiny mews she’d never heard come out of her own mouth before.

Her eyes had remained closed until she felt a pair of hands on her breasts. The lifeguard had taken each of her boobs in hand, gently massaging them, but almost timidly. In the midst of her enjoyment, she thought the guy was pretty bad at this. An even stranger thought occurred to her, ‘What if he was a virgin?’, but that couldn’t be the case. She leaned back up again, keeping her chest just out of his reach, and focused on her own satisfaction.

Leaning back, she rocked her whole body backwards and forth, letting his shaft slide in and out of her at an angle that felt strange, but strangely good for her. She moved faster, letting her pleasure build up in her, and moaning louder. The lifeguard may have been bad at playing with her breasts, but she wasn’t. She held herself up with one hand, and used the other to massage her own breast. Her body was already feeling hot from the sun, and her lust. She was surprised by just how much pent up energy she had for this.

She felt the lifeguard’s hips start to rise up into her as well. He tried to lean up again, thrusting into her with a wild tenacity and lust. Robin had experienced this before with her ex. He used to go as hard and fast into her as he could, trying to get himself off, but with no regard to whether Robin was reaching climax, or not. Any time before this, she would have passively let them get away with it, but she was getting too close to finishing to let it happen again.

Grabbing his arms, and tapping into a strength she didn’t know she had, she forcefully pushed him flat onto his back again, holding his wrists above his head, and slammed her butt back down onto his pelvis. Sitting there with his member fully inside her, and an intense look on her face as she looked down into his, she almost growled the word, “Stay.”

The lifeguard looked almost scared to try anything else, but his eyes also seemed to be begging her to let him cum. Robin would let him, but she was going to have her orgasm as well. She started up in a rocking motion again, moving so his prick would hit all the right spots. As she moved faster, her groin went from rocking to a bouncing motion, feeling her buttocks bump with each motion. Her glasses began to slip off her nose, and she let go just long enough to slide them back into place. She kept his wrists held down, clenching tighter as her moans grew, and watched her lover’s face as he came close to climax as well.

Just as Robin was reaching the edge, she saw her lover’s face clench up in orgasm, and listened to him groan as he had to hold still and release himself into her. Robin didn’t know why, but seeing a guy cum while she was in control was weirdly erotic for her. Her insides filled up with hot, thick semen, creating another dimension of sensations throwing right past the edge. Her head spun as she felt a tidal wave of satisfaction crash over her.

Her muscles tightened and spasmed, and loud, breathy moans escaped her throat. She could barely manage to continue moving her hips, as she felt her eyes practically roll back. After what felt like an eternity of bliss, it finally subsided. She collapsed on top of her lifeguard lover, breathing heavily, and feeling sated for the first time in so long. Her body shivered a bit as she felt his spent manhood softening, and slipping out of her.

After those blissful moments had passed, Robin was suddenly reawakened to her current situation. She was in a public building, with a guy whom she didn’t even know his name, and had just finished having anonymous sex with him. Her other side took over again, and suddenly, she was that awkward girl all over again. Getting up quickly, she covered herself again, blushing heavily, and backed away from the lifeguard.

“Um… What’s…” the lifeguard uttered as Robin moved towards the door. Clearly, he was expecting a different reaction from her, probably thinking it was weird for her to be running off. Before the lifeguard had a chance to say anything further, Robin had escaped through the door, charging as quickly as her quivering legs would take her, to retrieve her towel and beach bag.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…” she kept muttering to herself. She thought about how it was so unlike her to act that way. Once she packed up, she bolted back down the beach, far away from the area, but feeling rather good about herself. Despite feeling embarrassed, she felt a glow of self-appreciation. Stopping half-way down the shore, she decided to take a dip in the ocean, if for no other reason than to wash away the cum dripping from between her legs.


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Watching and being Watched

For the sake of being absolutely thorough, I thought it would be best to tackle the concepts of voyeurism and exhibitionism together. Even though these are separate genres, they do sit as two extremes in the same particular kink. The idea of satisfying one’s urges in the public view has been around for ages, and is one of the more taboo things in our society. In fact, in most cases, it’s a fetish that’s generally illegal to perform.

Now, in case you happen to be one of those curious anomalies that doesn’t know, allow me to explain what these kinks are. Voyeurism is the act of watching someone in the process of disrobing, or engaging in a sexual act. This can be further broken down by consensual voyeurism, where one person watches their partner masturbate, or they watch a live cam show. It can also include observing a couple having sex in a public space, like a night club, because there is an implied consent when you know you’re going to be seen. There is also non-consensual voyeurism, which generally involves the more shady acts, like up-skirt shots, hidden cameras, and cliched peepholes.

On the other side of the coin is exhibitionism, which involves finding satisfaction from being watched, rather than doing the watching. This also has a consensual and non-consensual versions, with consensual exhibitionism done by cam show performers and strip club dancers, as those doing the watching are aware of their role as the watchers. In non-consensual exhibitionism, those doing the watching are often caught by surprise, not expecting to get a show when it happens. This is generally the case for flashers, and people who have sex in a public location where they can be seen by passers-by.

The thing I find curious about this fetish, however, is the appeal behind it. Thinking objectively, there’s nothing to gain from watching someone, when it would be much more fun to be interacting with someone instead. Why get your thrills from watching someone masturbate when it could be you satisfying them instead? Why bother to watch your neighbor undress through a gap in the blinds, when you could see much more of a woman in a porno? Ultimately, it comes down to a person’s curiosity.

The first time I committed voyeurism was probably a very similar experience to everyone’s first time, by accident. I was walking past a random house late at night, and I noticed a television playing through one of the windows, and realized it was porn. Granted, it’s probably not the textbook definition of voyeurism, but it still stopped me in my tracks, and I stood there watching for a few moments. I left once the person watching it realized I was standing there on the sidewalk, and shut it off.

The point of my story is the appeal of watching something out of pure curiosity. It happens all the time, especially to men. How many guys can honestly say, if a busty woman were to bend over, that man wouldn’t be tempted to peek a little. Of course, this happens to men more often because men have always been curious about the female form. Men are much less of a mystery, and have far less to be interested in, so women very rarely have anything to be curious about.

When it comes to being watched, people generally do so for a much more different reason. While voyeurs will watch out of curiosity, exhibitionists do so to be discovered. They enjoy the idea of being appreciated, and imagining what people are doing, or thinking, while they watch. Exhibitionists are generally very confident about their body, and have a very positive outlook with their appearance. They may get into it due to a lack of satisfaction in their own lives, and are seeking a new thrill in their life.

In the cases of both extremes, the allure comes from what the act means, not just for themselves, but for all those around them. We’re brought up to believe the act of exposing oneself, or engaging in sexual intercourse, outdoors is a perverse act. We are either not allowed to perform, or not allowed to watch, because it’s ethically wrong to do either. Yet, that very fact alone, that it’s not allowed, is what drives voyeurs and exhibitionists to want to do it even more.

On a final note, I wonder what would happen if a voyeur were to come across an exhibitionist…

That beast called Writer’s Block

I know my posts have been a bit off lately, but I wanted to write something, rather than nothing. Over the last week and a half, I’ve hit a bit of a creative wall, as all writers do from time to time. I was previously up for a really long time, feeling the itch to sit down and write whatever I wanted to write about for the last few weeks. I suppose I was a fool to think that itch would last forever. Hopefully, this rut I’ve found myself in won’t last very long, and I’ll be back to writing more short stories, and articles, very soon.

I don’t know what it is that causes me to stop like this, whether it’s stress, or maybe the tap just ran out for now, but it never lasts very long. I hope you guys won’t hate me for the lack of upcoming posts. Especially the weekly Erotic Bites I promised to bring you consistently. You’ll be hearing from me again soon enough.

Ritual Offerings: The Interview

This week’s Erotic Bite is another teaser from the Ritual Offerings collection. A paranormal investigator is interested in the case of a mental patient who claims to have had sex with a demon. He soon finds himself digging too deep, and too close to the answer.

September 22nd, 1:30 p.m.

I arrived at the Rosemary Psychiatric Institution, where I’ve been promised an interview with a patient who was admitted over two years ago, and whose mental condition remains unchanged. It’s my hope to learn more about the conditions of her admittance, as the media would only say it was of an ‘occult nature’. Those words were what first got my attention. I was a man with a dream of one day becoming a recognised paranormal investigator, but thus far, had only ever investigated frauds and wild goose chases. Ever since this case showed up on the news, I’ve been trying to find out more, thinking this could be my first real break.

After two years of inquiries and requisitions, I finally had my in. The official investigation had been closed, so I was no longer barred from having an interview. I was already on bad terms with the warden, having annoyed him with my past repeated attempts to gain entry. However, he couldn’t legally keep me out anymore, much to his dissatisfaction. Even as I entered the facility, and was let through security, his snub-nosed face sneered at me the whole time.

Once I was through, I was met by one of the psychiatrists who worked at the facility. He was a middle-aged man, wearing a cheap suit, and signs of a receding hairline. His face was adorned with a pair of glasses with large frames, the kind of appearance you would expect from a professional at a psychiatric institution. He smiled at me, holding a file under one of his arms as the other one extended to shake my hand. I courteously smiled back and took the handshake, introducing myself formally. As he did the same, he led me down the halls of the facility.

He explained he was Ms. Campbell’s primary doctor, and had been working with her since she arrived at the institution, and would answer any questions I had, so long as it wouldn’t violate the doctor-patient confidentiality protocol. I first asked him if the rumours about the circumstances of her admittance had any truth to them. He told me, although it’s true she was found in a room which appeared to be used for ritualistic purposes, he didn’t believe it was the cause of her mental state. He suspected her mind had become progressively more fractured due to her occult beliefs, and one day, she just snapped entirely. Since then, he’s been trying to piece her psyche back together, but has made very little progress in the last two years.

I asked him what, if any, kinds of treatment had been used. Specifically, had any extreme treatments, such as lobotomy, been performed. The doctor then explained, in her current state, such treatments would have no beneficial effects for her. However, they had attempted to use medication for hallucinations, and even experimented with different combinations of medicine to fix her mental state, but wasn’t at liberty to say which ones. He then handed me the file he’d been carrying, telling me it contained information on her prognosis, and observations made during the last two years. As I read the file, there were some photos of the patient, and a few of the walls in her room, with symbols and phrases drawn in chalk.

Age: 23
Sex: Female
D.O.B.: [redacted]
Eye colour: Gr
Hair colour: Rd

Status and Treatment: Patient was admitted after being found in her apartment. Patient showed signs of delirium, though the cause is unknown. Patient was sedated, and transported to Rosemary Psychiatric Institution for analysis and treatment. Dr. Eckleburn assigned as primary doctor.
Doctor conducted interview with patient. Over a two hour period, details of the patient’s illusions were found to be as follows:
Patient claims she was visited by some other-worldly creature, and had intercourse with said creature. Patient gave no details as to how she encountered said creature, nor could explain where it is now. Patient claims she belongs to the creature. Patient was unresponsive during majority of the interview, save for reactions resembling a state of post-coitus.

Patient has since continued to claim she belongs to some other-worldly creature, but has not shown any behaviour of other patients who have claiming possession.
Patient is stable, and non-violent.

After reading the file, the doctor showed me to the female ward where Ms. Campbell was staying. He said I would be allowed a short interview with the patient, and could ask her about what caused her illusions, as well as take photographs of her, and her room, but nothing more. Furthermore, the institution would not support the legitimacy of occult causes in any form, at least professionally. I agreed to the conditions, and the doctor showed me to her room. He introduced me to Ms. Campbell, and explained to her I was to interview her. Then turned to me and informed me she had already been sedated in anticipation of my arrival. I was allowed to speak to her in private, and to knock on the door to let the orderly know when I was finished.

1:40 p.m.

Dr. Eckleburn left me alone with Ms. Campbell in her room. As I stepped inside, I’m immediately drawn to all of the sketches on the walls. Much of it is drawn in chalk, some of it smeared, and all of it seemed incoherent, yet, done with purpose. I turned to look at Ms. Campbell, and she’s laid on her bed, looking up at me, and smiling with a glazed look in her eyes. I fear her sedation may prevent me from conducting the thorough interview I was hoping for. Still, I should at least try. I may not get another opportunity like this again.

I grab a chair, and set it next to her bed, sitting in it. I retrieve my notepad and pen from my back pocket, and  observe the young woman for a moment. Her auburn hair was messy, and sprawled on her pillow as her head rested on it. She wore the same white smock all the patients wore in the ward. Although her state seemed very euphoric, she still appeared to be aware of me, and why I was there. I asked for her name, and if she understood why I was there. She answered with the name on her file, and understood I was interviewing her. I was relieved, and confident she was coherent enough to answer my questions.

I asked her if she remembered the event that took place two years ago, which put her in this state. To which, she replied saying I was very handsome. I was flattered, but didn’t want to encourage that behaviour, so I repeated my question. She nodded and said she did. I asked her if she could describe the events that took place on that night. As I watched her, waiting for an answer, she simply kept looking up at me seductively, a hint of blushing was in her cheeks, and she bit her lip. I had to admit, she was very pretty, and under different circumstances, I would have flirted with her. But this was hardly the time or place, or the person, to be doing such things.

Several minutes into the interview, I was beginning to understand why it took two hours for the doctor to get very little information about that night from her. Most of my questions were met with a seductive look, or a flattering comment about my appearance, or sexual prowess. This was probably the first time I ever had to turn down the advances of a beautiful woman, especially one who tried so hard to seduce me. Thinking it may be a lost cause to continue, I quickly transcribed the information from her file instead. I then turned my attention to the walls, wondering if the markings might give some insight.

I excused myself from our discussion, and stood up to examine the walls better. Pulling out my camera, I took a hi-res photo of each wall, so I could examine the smaller details, if needed. Ms. Campbell remained in her bed as I did so, and said nothing while I did my examination. Much of the markings seemed rather incoherent, with sketches that made no sense, symbols I didn’t recognise, or had been partially rubbed away. I did, however, notice a few things. In each corner, there was a drawing of a candle, which seemed peculiar to me. There was also a rather crude drawing of what appeared to be a dagger, but the handle looked more phallic, than symmetrical. Finally, a pentagram symbol, which was the universal symbol of witchcraft, and the occult, was drawn on the wall opposite to the bed, with the words ‘KLAC TABLS’ written beneath it.

I made a notation of all the peculiar markings on my notepad, and thought I may have been onto something here. What happened next, shook me to my core. I practically jumped out of my skin the moment I turned, and came face-to-face with Ms. Campbell, standing directly behind me. I hadn’t even heard her get up, nor her feet shuffle on the floor, as if she just appeared there. I was terrified, but took a few deep breaths and calmed down. I became nervous wondering how she could have been standing right there, looking right at me, while she was still sedated.

I tried to play it off, telling her she surprised me, and I would have to be going now. Just as I spoke, she stepped closer to me. I moved backwards away from her, nervous of what she might do, and ended up with my back against the wall. She was almost pressed into me, her eyes staring right into mine, full of hunger. She opened up her smock, and bared her chest; no t-shirt or undergarments underneath. She reached into it and pulled her breasts out for me to see. Her skin was pale, and looked soft and smooth. She gently rubbed them, and arched her back to raise her chest closer to me, daring me to touch them. I stood frozen against the wall, afraid to do anything but look.

She gave me a devious, playful smile as she bit her lip, still rubbing her breasts. Her nipples hardened, alluring me to take hold of them. She was getting no reaction from me, so she became bolder. She reached down, and rubbed my pants, precisely along the shaft of my growing erection. My attempts to feign disinterest seemed to fail, she had called me on my bluff.

With a lewd giggle, she lowered herself onto her knees, and skillfully unfastened my pants in about a second. Before I could protest, she had already reached into my boxers, and pulled out my erect member. She cooed lustfully as she stroked me, and I could only wonder if, perhaps, her sedation had simply worn off prematurely. As precum secreted from the head of my prick, she stared at it hungrily. Her hand stroked me harder, trying to milk out more of it.

She licked the slit of my penis, cleaning it all off, and took the entire head of my cock in her mouth. She sucked on the end of my penis, stroking me along the shaft, her eyes continuously looking up into mine. I had to admit, being a paranormal investigator didn’t get me many dates, so it was difficult for me to say no to this. Her auburn hair bobbed back and forth past her shoulders, and part of me wanted to grab it, and just enjoy this. I wanted to take her breast in my hand, and massage it, grope it, and make her feel good. I admit, I wanted to fuck her against this wall.

Then, I snapped out of those thoughts, knowing an orderly could walk in at any moment. I pulled myself away from her, stepping sideways from her grasp, and put my throbbing member back in my pants. Rather than look insulted, Ms. Campbell seemed eager to continue, slowly walking towards me with that look of sexual hunger in her eyes. I quickly grabbed my belongings, and anxiously knocked on the door to be let out. The orderly immediately answered, and I exited. I explained what she did, and she assured me that it happened sometimes, before going in to re-dress the auburn-haired woman, and put her back in bed.

Needless to say, I decided I was done with my interview, and compiled my notes. I met with the doctor again, and returned his file as he escorted me out of the building. We had a short chat about what happened along the way, but he was relieved to hear that I hadn’t engaged in any sort of sexual act with her. Of course, I had to lie a little about that part. Once I had made it through security, and signed myself out, I was on my way home.

8:50 p.m.

I sat at home, going over my notes and pictures, trying to make sense of all the nonsense that had taken place several hours ago. I was bothered by the events that took place in Ms. Campbell’s room at the ward, but it hadn’t stopped me from quickly relieving that tension the moment I got home. I stared at the cork board with all of my photos, and the notes I took from my observations. I stared at it like I was some ‘beautiful mind’ genius, trying to find the connections to everything, like some puzzle. I tried like hell to see how everything fit together, but my mind just wouldn’t shake the image of that young redhead about to blow me right there against the concrete wall.

I closed my eyes to think, but I saw her again, on her knees, right in front of me. I start to get hard again, and I had to let out a long exhale to calm myself down. I refocused my mind, and brought my attention back to the mess on the wall, and figure out if there was a case here. I mulled over the specific pictures I had noticed earlier, and saw they resembled the components of certain rituals. If Ms. Campbell was drawing these shapes in a specific way, she may have been trying to tell me by recreating what happened. That made me wonder, what did the words ‘KLAC TABLS’ mean? I had already checked many languages, and they didn’t seem to say anything in any language.

I decided to try an experiment, and grabbed some candles. If she drew a picture of a candle in each corner, would that indicate there was a candle in each corner of the room during the ritual? I placed one in each corner of my living room, and lit them, trying to place myself in the situation. The mood certainly seemed right, and I definitely felt a sense of nervousness. I stepped back to the cork board, and grabbed the picture I took of those strange words.

I sat on my couch, in the low light, and examined the photo closer. The words still didn’t make sense, and the pentagram above it didn’t seem to give any clue. Frustrated, I set the photo on my coffee table, and got up to get a drink. I could sense I was going in the right direction, and those words and pentagram were the next step. I just could not figure out what it meant. With a small glass of whiskey in my hand, I relaxed on the couch, taking a sip.

I allowed myself to think about the redhead again, if only to unwind my nerves, and give myself something nice to think about. I imagined how far things may have gotten if I hadn’t stopped her. How her breasts would have felt in my hands, how deep she would have taken my prick in her mouth, how tight her snatch was, and how much she would enjoy feeling me inside her. It wasn’t long before I was fully hard, and beginning to want that fiery woman. ‘Oh well,’ I thought to myself, feeling like a fool for desiring a woman trapped in a nuthouse.

As I opened my eyes again, I could have sworn there was a red flicker in my peripheral vision. I looked towards it, and nothing, just my coffee table, and the photo. I shrugged it off as my eyes just playing tricks on me, and took another sip of the dark whiskey. I yawned and  laid my head back against the couch, closing my eyes. I only had them closed for a minute, but when I opened them, my house had become much darker.

There were still lights flickering on the walls, and I remembered the candles were still burning. I sat up, blinking the drowsiness from my eyes. I was surprised I hadn’t dropped my glass as I nearly drifted off, and set it on the table. I didn’t know what happened, whether there was a blackout, or I had gotten drunk and forgot I turned the lights off. I composed my thoughts, and tried to remember where the nearest flashlight was. I remembered I put one in the stand next to the front door.

I opened the drawer in the stand, and searched around for it. I pulled it out, and twisted the head to make sure it worked. Sure enough, the beam was bright, and lit the door in front of me. For the second time that day, I was surprised nearly out of my skin when there was a knock on the door. I stepped back, and exhaled, assuming the neighbour must be checking to see if the power was out in my house as well.

I opened my door, shining my flashlight outside at the guest, and was taken aback by what I saw. It was a person, but not one of my neighbours, I was sure of that. The stranger had a curious, green robe covering their whole body, along with a hood covering their head. With everything having been dark, I could only see black under the hood. I was creeped out by this stranger’s presence, but I stole myself, and asked who the stranger was, and if they needed something. The stranger didn’t answer, or react in any sort of way.

Feeling even more on edge, I repeated my question, and leaned in to try and see their face. As I raised the flashlight towards their face, the figure stepped towards me, and into my home. Startled, I backed away from the stranger, nearly tripping over my own feet. The door closed by itself behind the stranger, and I was unsure if it was the wind, or some other force. I felt the arm of the couch on the back of my thighs, and was too frightened to move anywhere else. The figure stopped within inches of my body, and slowly, two pale, slender hands reached for the hood, and pushed it back.

I never could have imagined the person in the cloak, who seemed to appear at my door in the middle of the night, had the same red hair and familiar face. Her green eyes pierced into my mind, and invaded my thoughts. It was Ms. Campbell, but at the same time, it wasn’t. I couldn’t explain what it was, but the person standing in front of me was exactly like the mental patient I had just met a few hours ago, and yet, her demeanour was entirely different. Rather than in a state of delirium, she was calm; her face and hair seemed cleaner, as well. By all accounts, I could swear the woman before me had never had any sort of mental illness.

I called her by her name, and she smiled, and nodded to acknowledge me. I tried to ask how she got here, and how she got out of the asylum. My words were stifled as she leaned in and kissed me, gripping my shirt with one hand, and the other behind my head. Even with all of my questions and worries running through my mind, her warm lips melted them all away. My nerves started to calm, and my muscles relaxed. There was a moment of euphoria as my adrenaline drained from me.

She broke the kiss, and guided me back to the front of my couch, gently seating me on the soft cushion. Whatever the reason for her having been here, it didn’t matter to me anymore. She gingerly lowered herself to her knees in front of me while her eyes stayed locked on mine. The red-haired beauty unfastened my pants, just as she did earlier that day, and I was sure I knew the reason this time. I had to restrain myself, as much as I wanted her to finish last time, out of professionalism. But, this time, I had no intention of stopping her.

By the time she had pulled my trousers off, I was half-erect for her. But, no sooner did I feel her warm mouth wrap around the tip, was I fully erect. I could feel her tongue slither around my shaft, teasing me, and causing the base of my member to throb. Her hair covered my lap, making it impossible for me to watch, but I felt everything. My breathing became erratic as it responded to every tiny jolt of pleasure I felt. She seemed to be even more eager to please me than she had when we first met.

A moment later, and she slowly slid her mouth off of me, pursing her lips as she released the head, and let out a low moan of enjoyment. Her head raised, and her eyes met mine again. I watched as she stood, and sat on the opposite end of the couch. It was only then did she open the green cloak concealing her, and revealed she was completely nude underneath. The candlelight shimmered on her pale skin, and made it look like she glowed in the darkness. Her breasts looked even more tantalising than they did before, and the curves of her body bewitched me. She released a clasp near her neck, which seemed to be the only thing keeping the cloak on her body.

Her body shifted, turning towards me. Her head rested on the arm of the couch, and she brought her legs onto the middle cushion, and laid her body along the length of the couch. Her legs parted, revealing what hid between her thighs. I stared in awe at the beauty of her womanhood, and the soft, pink, puffy skin that surrounded it. She reached between her thighs, and used her fingers to open her slit to me. My prick throbbed hard, and repeatedly, as my mouth twitched. She appeared to want me to return the favour for her, which, at that moment, was the only thing I wanted to do.

My body leaned in closer, almost on it’s own. It was difficult to distinguish if I was acting on my own, or if I was losing control. My head came closer to the crevice between her thighs, and I could see her smile growing wider on her cheeks. She bit her lip and inhaled quickly as my breath touched her mound. The sweet scent of her invaded my nostrils, and the hint of her honey glistened with the light of the candles. As my lips touched her divine flesh, she gasped, and closed her eyes. As I saw her reaction to me, I wanted to give her more.

I continued to kiss her womanhood, letting my tongue out to lick her, and taste her honey. She reacts like a woman who has never been with a lover, gently jerking her limbs in an act of ecstasy. My hand reaches up to grab her breast, and it feels soft and firm in my hand. I grope her playfully, adding to the pleasure I’m giving her with my tongue. She moans and gasps in pleasure, clutching my hair, and encouraging me to do more. I felt her body heat up, and her hips began to buck.

I pinched her nipple, and focused my tongue lashings on her tiny pleasure nub. She let out a shriek, and I began to taste something hot, and sweet, escape from her opening. I lapped it up, and she held my head there, still letting out small noises as her whole body tensed in climax. Her thighs squeezed my face, and held me in place until her orgasm subsided. I found my chin soaked in her juices as I pulled my face away from her mound. I wiped my face as she caught her breath, and watched her pale skin turn to a highly-aroused pink.

My cock had already been ready to burst by that point, and pointed straight at her as I raised my body straight. Her eyes darted straight for it, and I could see a deep hunger on her face. The seductress grabbed my arms, and pulled me on top of her. I was face-to-face with her, and could see deep into her emerald eyes. I felt her hand grasp my shaft, and guided it to her opening. Her thighs closed in around my hips, and I felt the heat of her body against my skin. I felt something soft, and wet, against the tip of my member, and then her legs clamped around my hips, and pushed me deep into her.

There was a moment of disbelief in my mind, followed by the incredible feeling of her soft walls squeeze all around me. I let out a gasp as I felt myself enter her, while she moaned in pleasure of the initial penetration. She held my body in place for a moment, and pulled me in to kiss her again. Her large mounds were pressed against my chest as I returned her kiss. Her tongue invaded my mouth, and played with mine, seducing me further into her. I was still throbbing inside her, so she released me, and allowed me to move into her.

I pulled myself out, part-way, and moved into her again. She moaned into my lips, so I did it again, and again, and again. Each time, I moved faster, then harder, and more, until I was ravaging her. She moaned more and more, even after our lips broke from each other. I watched her face, looking into her eyes as I took her. Without speaking, her expression pleaded with me not to stop. As if she couldn’t bare to have me stop pleasuring her, and part of me wanted to fulfil that wish.

Unfortunately, I had been building up ever since we began. I felt myself quickly building to orgasm, and did all I could to hold it back. I managed to edge myself for, what felt like, an eternity, but to no avail. As soon as it was clear I was going to cum, she wrapped her legs around me again, and forced me to release myself inside her. She seemed to enjoy the feeling of me unloading into her, and I felt her walls sucking me in as my prick emptied.

Once I had finished, I felt breathless, and climbed off of her, sitting on the couch next to her as I waited for the endorphin high to pass. I had thought we were finished, and reveled in having had relations with such a beauty. Clearly, the fiery woman was not done with me, yet. She had not given me more than a few seconds to recover, before she climbed onto my lap, straddling me. Reaching down, she grasped me again, and stroked my half-softened dick. Still coated in her honey, it was partly slick in her hand.

I was still in the middle of recovering, and didn’t think I’d be able to continue. I wanted to protest, feeling her slick fingers glide against the over-sensitive head. I tried to speak up, and addressed her as ‘Ms. Campbell’, but she placed a finger over my lips, and shushed me. Her eyes looked into mine, smiled playfully, and insisted I called her ‘Charley’. With that, she had succeeded in bringing me to full erection again, and lowered herself onto me.

I shuddered as I penetrated her again, still overly sensitive, and feeling drained. I didn’t want to stop her, I wanted to please her, to make her mine. I took comfort in the thought that I didn’t have to do the work, and as long as she kept me hard, she could do as she pleased. Larger jolts of pleasure shot through me as I suffered in bitter-sweet torture of my lover moving her hips up, and down, against me. She moaned as she tilted her head back, enjoying herself to the fullest extent.

Her movement became more and more aggressive. Her honey began to flow even more, and made sounds of slick sliding with every motion. With the burning candles, the thin layer of sweat on our bodies, and the heady scent of our lovemaking made the room palpable with passion and lust. Her heavy movements made the large mounds on her chest bounce so beautifully against my face. I couldn’t resist them, and brought my hands up to grab them, and push them together, groping them.

Charley felt encouraged to add a rocking motion to her movements, and created an entirely different sensation for me. Even though I felt overly-sensitive, I felt myself building up again. It was smaller, but I felt another good orgasm approach. I had never felt this before, and didn’t know what to expect. As it got closer, I felt the desire to release into the fiery woman again.

My hands clutched her thighs, I listened to her moans, and focused on how tight her soft walls felt all around me. I needed that release, and she could feel it coming. I groaned loudly, and my whole body stiffened as I came inside her again. Lights began to dance in front of my eyes as I finished, and I felt a dizzying light-headedness. I could no longer focus on anything else in the room, and my body began to feel numb. I could still see Charley, and I could still feel her folds around my member.

She giggled, almost deviously, and continued to keep going. Strangely I was still erect inside her, despite having orgasmed twice. I heard her let out little breaths of satisfaction, and hunger, as she continued. My body was weak, and I was unable to stop her. The only sensation I was still aware of was the feeling of both our juices churning inside her.

I could barely move my head, my vision became blurred, and I could no longer move my arms. I looked down at my arms, and they began to look thinner, almost shrivelled. I was losing focus, and didn’t understand how I could be able to continue having sex with this woman. My only conclusion was she, somehow, wouldn’t let my manhood go soft. I realised, she was draining me, of everything, not just my semen. She was a demon of lust, and I was her victim.

In the following moments, all I could feel was one more orgasm rise from my body. Unable to do anything about it, it was quickly released into the red-haired demon. My vision began to fade completely, and I lost all sensation. All I could see was white, and heard only her playful, devious laughter as she left me there to my fate. I should have known better than to play with something I didn’t understand.


Be sure to check the Erotic Bites section for more stories like this one. See you next week!

The Mystery of Primal Play

Now, when I say ‘mystery’, I don’t mean it’s a mystery to us all, like some kind of exclusive club. It’s a mystery because this particular fetish is relatively new in the BDSM community. I was also oblivious to its existence until just a couple days ago. I was considering making a Fetlife account the other day, hoping I could network with more people like me, and it asked me what role I assume. I clicked the drop-down menu and looked at the choices. Normally, I would have just chosen ‘Master’, but I was curious, and the list was kinda long, so I read over them all.

Near the bottom, I saw some roles I’d never heard of, which went by the names ‘Primal, Primal Dom, Primal Sub’. I was intrigued and did a little research into what exactly a Primal is.What I found turned out to be a style of BDSM I always kinda knew existed, but I’d been simply attributing it as just being a Dom. Furthermore, it occurred to me, I may actually be a Primal. I’ve had many experiences in the past where I acted in ways described by many others as the behavior of a Primal Dom, but only recently has that behavior actually been given a name.

Now, to get into specifics, it’s a style of BDSM that deals with sex in a manner that is much more animalistic than conventional sex, or what they refer to as ‘Primal Play’. It’s not just being a bit more rough with your partner that makes this animalistic, no, I mean this in a much more literal sense. People who are primal tend to take the roles of predator and prey, where one member dominates, and mates, with their partner in the same way as, let’s say, a wolf or lion mates with their mate.

Believe me, I had to do A LOT of research to really understand what all of this means, and what the act entails. Disclaimer: Not all primals act exactly as I describe below. This is just an overall list of attributes. You do not need to perform all of these acts to be considered a primal.

To start, primals will often abandon the rules and protocols of BDSM/D.s., and forego the use of toys in lieu of hair, skin, nails, and teeth. Next, the primals would perform a kind of foreplay involving one participant capturing and taking control of the other, like a kind of ‘take-down’. During this act, there may be a lot of sniffing, growling, scratching and/or biting. Some primals have admitted their mate’s scent plays a big role in attraction. Furthermore, both participants may struggle to gain control over the other, which allows room for those of us who may play the bratty sub who doesn’t always like to be the submissive one. For this reason, primal play can look like wrestling, or fighting, and sometimes involves using ropes on their partner to establish dominance.

3118045My primal traits consist more of the biting, growling, scratching, and playing the ‘Alpha’ role.

As you can imagine, primal play is often very passionate and sensual for participants, and couples who regularly engage in primal play recommend every couple try it out at least once. The main aspect of primal play are the emotions involved with it. Whether those emotions are lust, happiness, loneliness, or even silliness, it can be expressed in primal play. It can be rough, or it can be gentle, but ultimately, it is always emotional. Sometimes, participants can engage in play without the need for sex whatsoever.

By now, you may be thinking this sounds a bit like the ‘furries’ or ‘yiffy’ sub-genre. Well, you’d be partially correct in assuming this. Primal play and these animal-like role-playing sub-genres are definitely separate, but have a lot of overlapping qualities. But, as I’ve said, you don’t have to engage in all the acts I’ve mentioned to be considered primal.

Along with all the research I’ve done, I’ve noticed there’s not a lot of erotica involving primal play. I understand that it’s new, so many writers probably aren’t aware of it as a niche, but I’d be interested to see what kind of stories people write using primal play. I can imagine, if someone were to write one, it would involve a lot of references to animal-styled sex and seduction. Components of Primal stories could be such things as a partner’s scent, mounting, description of skin and hair, struggle for dominance, maybe even some playful escaping, only to be captured by the alpha again.

If anyone reading this happens to get a story idea involving primal play, and writes it, I’d love to read it. You guys are always welcome to use the ‘Contact Me’ section to send me your stories. Or, if all you have is an idea, you can always tell me about it, and I may write it myself. If I like your story, I might even feature it as an Erotic Bite. If you’d like to learn more about how to engage in primal play, I’ve seen a very helpful video all about it on Kink University, a branch of obviously). The video demonstrates many of the acts involved and explains the dynamics of the human connection created. Disclaimer: They don’t pay me to advertise their site, I just genuinely think it’s an excellent resource.

Out of curiosity, are any of you primal? Have any of you had experiences in primal play, or engage in it a certain way? Feel free to tell me your experiences in the comments below.

To read more posts about Primal Play, Click here.

The Tentacle Fascination

I’ve had an idea to try out something like this for a while, and figured I’d give it a go. I wanted to be a source of information for those who wish to expand their horizons when writing erotica, because I know what it’s like to cross that threshold, and not know which way to go. While I was working as a ghost writer, I had to write about subjects I’d never written before, so I had to spend a couple hours doing research on a subject, learning why some people were turned on by this particular kink, and how they got into it. They say you should write what you know, but that doesn’t mean your knowledge should be limited to just what you know right now. So, to make things a bit easier for those wishing to broaden their horizons, I’ll be making the occasional post about different niches, what it is that makes it so damn alluring, and why.

For my first go at this, I figured what better topic to discuss first than good old tentacle sex. It was the first niche I was asked to write that made me raise an eyebrow, and wonder what kind of wierdo I was working for. Well, technically the niche they asked for was tentacle/alien/impregnation erotica, but the reaction I had was the same. I will admit to you now, I’ve seen a fair amount of tentacle hentai, and I’ve seen it occur in many forms, from some monster capturing a woman, to a boy turning into a mass of tentacles, and even tentacles emerging from a woman’s genitalia to be used on another woman’s genitalia. I’ve also found some live-action tentacle debauchery, but you tend to lose interest when it’s obvious you’re watching a dildo attached to a stick.

Now, this may seem like a fetish only guys would appreciate, but it’s often made a component of many female fantasies. However, most would never admit to it because of the stigma they believe goes with it. But that doesn’t stop them from looking up tentacle hentai whenever they get the chance. It may seem like one of the strangest things to be aroused by, but it’s not without it’s reasons either. After I did my research on the tentacle fetish, I found some truly intriguing things about why women quiver excitedly at the mere thought of a foreign appendage wrapping around their leg.

The first attractive quality about tentacles is the allure of a fantasy creature, whom has full knowledge of female sexuality, wanting to bring them to ecstasy. Because it’s a fictional creature, women will often imagine it acting exactly as they would want it to act. They can do this without any other expectations, because there’s no basis of comparison to an actual creature to contradict their fantasy. In addition, tentacle fetishes also take on multiple other roles women are often aroused by. The can play the part of bondage play, gangbanging from having a phallic limb in every hole, and sometimes, the ‘wet’ aspect of tentacles allows them to enjoy the image, without the worry of friction or injury.

But most of all, tentacle fetishes attract women because they often take the woman by force. Now, let me begin this explanation by making it clear:

Women do not fantasize about being taken by force. And that is not up for debate.

Now that I’ve cleared up my position on that, let me clarify the point. Nothing matters more in sex than consent, so consent is the main issue here. In BDSM play, both parties are fully informed of what will take place, establish safety words, boundaries, and perform aftercare when it’s over. There is another form of this that takes things very close to the edge, commonly known as “Consensual Non-consent”, which is often frowned upon in the BDSM community because of the risks to one’s safety. Now, I could make another whole post on consensual non-consent, but for now, I’ll summarize. It involves both parties agreeing to act as if consent has been waived completely, allowing one party to act however he chooses. So the two parties roleplay as ‘rapist’ and ‘victim’, except both parties have already given consent, far ahead of time, to take part in this kind of play.

As to it’s relation to tentacle fetishes, there are women who like the idea of consenting to roleplaying as if consent has been waived. However, doing so with multiple partners is a daunting task, so tentacles make that fantasy possible for them. As I mentioned earlier, a fantasy creature, like a tentacle monster, will do exactly as the woman will fantasize it to do. Because the women in hentai are entirely fictional, it’s much easier for women to place themselves in their position because the use of consensual non-consent has already been established in their fantasy, and their safety is guaranteed. They receive all of the pleasure, without any of the drama, or the risks involved.

Even with all of this, there are times when certain aspects of tentacle fetishes are a bit unappealing. Some women don’t like the idea of a tentacle being slimy, or it’s rigid texture, or the shape of it’s tip. Most of the time, they would like to see a woman eager to be taken by tentacles, rather than captured. It’s because of this, the genre often branches out into other forms, adjusting itself to fit the preferences of it’s readers or viewers. Keep this in mind when you use tentacles in your own stories. Often times, tentacles will be combined with other niches, like aliens, or impregnation. Don’t be so quick to dismiss these ideas either. You may be shocked to find out how popular it could get.

I’m unsure if I should place my resources in their own section, but please, let me know if you would like more posts like this about some of the lesser-understood niches in erotica. My hope is for you, the writer, to have a better understanding of the appeal behind this, and incorporate that into your story.

Paying a speeding ticket

This week’s Erotic Bite is a story I submitted for a competition about quickie sex. The only condition was the story needed to be below 1,500 words. So you could say it’s a quickie about a quickie. Enjoy!

Lacey had already been on the road all day. Her boyfriend was just transferred to a new marine base and finally found an apartment for them, so she had to make the trek to be with him. Her GPS had told her of a separate route that was a little longer, but had far less traffic, so she took it. It brought her through this old country road, seemingly empty, so she pushed on the gas a little harder to get through it faster. She rolled down her window and let the wind blow through her medium-length red hair.

She hadn’t seen another car for almost twenty minutes, so she thought no one would notice her speed a little. At least not until a county police car appeared right behind her with it’s lights flashing. Lacey cursed at herself and slowly pulled over to the side of the road. She got a nervous feeling in her chest, she’d been stopped before on other occasions, and was warned that if she got in trouble again, her license would be revoked. She couldn’t afford to be stopped right now, not when her boyfriend was still hours away.

The police car was stopped right behind her, and the officer approached her window now. As he came into Lacey’s view, she was met with a pretty good-looking face, short brown hair, blue eyes, cleanly shaven, and she could tell he was fairly fit under his well-pressed uniform. He asked the usual questions.

“License, registration, and proof of insurance, please.” His voice was authoritative, but there was still a sense of youth in it.

“OK.” She replied, she took her license out of her purse and the other documents out of the glove compartment and handed them to him.

After the officer looked her information over, he turned to her, “Are you aware of how fast you were going?”

“Ummm…not really.” She feigned ignorance. It was stupid, but it was the only reaction she could come up with.

“The speed limit here is thirty-five, I clocked you at forty-two.”

Lacey was silent a moment, then replied, “I’m really sorry, officer.”

“Wait here a minute, please.” And he walked back to his car.

Is he going to run my information on his computer? she thought. If he did, she would likely be arrested right then. All she could do was wait with bated breath until he returned, she kept tapping the steering wheel with her thumbs, her heart picked up pace. The officer finally reappeared at her window.

“Would you step out of the car, please?” He spoke with a bit more authority this time.

Reluctantly, she opened her car door and stepped out onto the road. Lacey could feel the officer’s eyes moving down her body, from the white tank top that covered her C-cup breasts, down her slender body to her khaki skirt that barely covered her ass, and down her long legs. It was summer, so she preferred to dress lightly. The officer guided her to his car, and stopped next to the hood.

“Ma’am, you’ve been warned by the judge about your driving record. I’ll have to ask you to turn around, lean over, and place your hands on the hood.” His voice sounded a lot like her boyfriend’s, and this brought up memories of the role-playing they would have in the bedroom.

Her boyfriend would bend her over the bed, handcuff her, then have his way with her. This was brought on when she told him months ago that she always had this fantasy of getting fucked by a cop on the hood of his car. And since then, they had role-played that scenario many times in the bedroom. But this was a serious situation, no games. She turned around, bent over a bit, and held herself up with her hands on the hood.

“All the way down.” He placed his hand on her back and pushed her down until her whole upper body rested on the hood.

Though she hadn’t meant to, the memories she just had in her mind caused her to react with a groaned moan, her nails pushed into the metal hood as if thinking they were her bed sheets, and bowed her back to make her ass more prominent, as if she submitted it to him. She instantly blushed, and realized what had happened. She could tell he had paused in surprise, and could feel her skirt no longer hid the crest of her small butt cheeks, now poked out to say ‘hi’. A moment passed, then the officer grabbed her wrist, pulled it behind her back and clasped a handcuff on it. Lacey hadn’t met many attractive cops, but she didn’t seem to mind being ‘handled’ by this one.

She bit her lip as he took her other wrist and clasped the other cuff to it, and still couldn’t help but lift her ass a bit when the officers hip seemed to press into her butt. She could feel a semi-hard shaft slid between her soft cheeks. He was turned on by her. When the officer felt the caress of her panties over his bulge, he reacted with a slight thrust of his hips into her. It was clear that she wanted this, and he was ready to give it to her.

“Are you going to give me your name, at least?” She asked him.

“Mark.” He replied, his hands ran up her legs to her perky ass.

Lacey felt his hips move away for a moment, and hoped that he wasn’t backing out of this. When she heard a tell-tale zipper come undone, she became instantly wetter. Her breath began to pick up in anticipation, she felt something hot, hard, and round rub along the thin fabric that covered her pussy.

“So this is what you want?” Mark asked, his voice more erotic.

“Yes.” she replied in a hurried breath. She felt bad for cheating on her boyfriend, but this was a rare opportunity to live out her fantasy.

She felt his fingers pull her panties to the side, her sweet folds were ready. She couldn’t look back to see how big his cock was, but as she felt him penetrate her, she could tell his was thick, and long. But at that moment, another car approached around the curve. Mark quickly pushed his hips into her butt and placed his hands on her cuffs. Lacey tried to muffle a large moan, as she felt him fill her completely, he must have been around seven or eight inches long. The car passed right by them. To the driver, they simply looked like she was being arrested, rather than getting fucked.

As the car disappeared from view, Mark thrusted his member into her. If another car was going to approach soon, they would have to make this fast. Mark held the hem of her skirt as he plowed into her tightened folds, Lacey moaned into the metal hood, her tits pressed into it. The officer pounded into her as he smacked her ass, and she loved it.

“Oh god, fuck me harder!” She cried out. She moaned almost uncontrollably as he granted her wish. He pulled the hem of her skirt, and pulled her into him each time he thrusted into her. He used his other hand to pull her shoulder up a bit, then reached into her shirt and groped her breast. She was overcome by so much pleasure as her fantasy had come true. It was then she noticed a small device with a lens and a blinking red light. A dash cam? Was it on?

Suddenly, the thought of having been recorded this whole ordeal turned her on to the point she felt her pussy get even more wet, she clenched around his dick, and started to orgasm. Mark quickly followed with his own orgasm, he pushed deep into her and released a large load of hot cum inside her. This pushed her past the point of pleasure, and straight into the most intense orgasm of her life. She got on her tippy-toes, her legs tightened, and she practically roared a moan that echoed off the hills and the trees all around them.

As they both relaxed, they cleaned up. Mark let Lacey go with a warning, considering her payment to him. As he drove off, and parted ways, Lacey sat in her car a few minutes longer, she felt his cum drip out of her, took it in her fingers and rubbed it into her clit, and brought herself to another orgasm as she replayed the events in her head. She knew that Mark would do the same when he watched the replay from his dash cam.


Check out the Erotic Bites section for more stories like this!

On Female Perspective

In a past post, I discussed some of the challenges male erotica writers face in a genre that is primarily dominated by women. One of those challenges is the issue of writing from the female perspective. That is, to write from the point-of-view of a female character. In most other genres, this is not a difficult task. Especially for legendary authors, like George R.R. Martin, who seem to know exactly how to portray women who are both strong, and vulnerable. However, in erotica, the challenge is much greater, as we will be scrutinized on how we portray sexual women.

Let me illustrate this point with an example situation I’ve seen many times in erotica reviews. A female author writes a story from the point of view from a woman, and her story is read by another woman. The reader has experienced similar events in her own life, and thinks, ‘my experience was different, but the character is still believable, so the story is good‘. Now, if you take the exact situation, but make the author a man, it’s more likely the female reader will think, ‘my experience was different, but this was written by a guy, so what the hell does he know?’. This is not the case for all readers, of course, but it is an ongoing challenge male writers face right from the start. But how can we effectively portray a sexual woman, who is also believable and relateable to all readers?

We can’t. But we can do the best we can.

There’s no way for us to know exactly how a woman will think, or act, in any given erotic situation. Sometimes, we’ll find, in life, most women will respond with the opposite reaction we use in our stories, which cuts into our credibility. In other cases, our portrayal of women in a certain situation will resonate with some women, and they can relate it to their own experiences. That is what you should try to aim for when you write. As the saying goes: you can please all the people some of the time, you can please some of the people all the time, but you can’t please all people all the time.

So how do we begin to write erotica in a way that can appeal to some of your readers, and begin to build credibility and legitimacy among female readers? Well, there’s a number of things to keep in mind when you begin writing your story. First, remember women are, at their core, complex creatures. Men are normally much more basic, so it’s easy to make us happy with straightforward gestures, like pulling us into the bedrooms, pulling our clothes off, and fucking our brains out. Women, on the other hand, don’t appreciate crudeness, frankness, or pure physical stimulation.

Women want to know more than just how big a man’s dick is, or how hard he rammed into her, etc. Instead, they want to know more about what the characters are thinking, what they’re feeling, and their motivations for this sexual interaction. Thoughts and emotions are powerful in erotica, and help tremendously when it comes to making your characters more human, and relateable. Ask yourself why this situation is happening, and what is causing this woman to consider sexual intercourse, rather than flinging their drink in the guy’s face.

You may have also noticed that I was just using a bit of crude language as well, just a minute ago. Your use of language is also going to be an issue when it comes to appealing to female readers. You may have noticed in a few of my stories, like the Teacher’s Pet, which I wrote back in 2013, the language I used was somewhat crude. Back then, I was only just getting back into writing erotica, and publishing it online. Technically, I was still a new writer, and was still making many of the mistakes new writers make. But my stories were short, and very quick to get to the action, and ended with instant gratification. I was later hired to start ghost-writing some erotica novels, with the requirement of each one being at least 5,000 words. I learned, very quickly, what the secret to writing good erotica was.

Take things slow.

I realized, if I wanted to reach my required word count, I needed to pace my story in a way that allowed me to stretch the events out over several paragraphs. You can probably find these writing tips just about anywhere now, but I had to learn these things through self-discovery. Using techniques like utilizing the five senses to describe a scene, abandoning the laundry list, and using a broader terminology can all help your story feel less like porn, and more like erotica. A bit of eloquence, and knowledge of the human body, can make your story that much more appealing. Let me show you…


Her perfect tits and ass looked so good in her underwear, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them. I grabbed her tits, and squeezed them. That was when she moaned for me. I wanted to fuck her so bad, so I pulled off her panties, and pushed her on the bed. I got on top of her, and started fucking her really good. I pounded her like a jackhammer with my hard rod until she creamed on my cock.


She stepped into the doorway, a playful smile on her face, and her cheeks blushing for me as she revealed the new lingerie she bought as a surprise. My eyes looked up and down her body. Her panties hugged her hips with red lace, and cupped her perky mounds to give her a cleavage that would tease any man. My skin grew hot and flush, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I got up, and stepped in front of her, placing my hands on her hips. Her blushing face became a deeper shade of red. She was obviously nervous about wearing something so revealing, but I had told her once about how much I liked red lace lingerie.

Both examples are just one paragraph long, but you can see how one method works better than the other. The better example is able to describe everything that happens just in the first sentence of the wrong example, and still has room for much more description! You also get a much better picture of what’s going on in the second example, and have a better idea of the thoughts, emotions, and motivations of the man and woman. Now, while it may be obvious that a bit of crude language is needed for the description of the actual sex, you may want to avoid using terms like: cock, pussy, tits, cunt, dick, hard rod, ass, etc. Although, it’s acceptable to use these sparingly in your description. I often only use these terms to make certain actions sound more intense, like points where the sex is becoming rougher. If you find yourself using certain terms a little too often, then will soon become your best friend.

The next thing you should know about is female personalities and archetypes. A great many of them exist, and it’s important to remember that they only exist as a point of reference. Remember, even though characters fall under an archetype, each person has their own qualities, personalities, fears, dreams, wants and needs. You’re not just creating a sexual partner, you’re creating a character your readers will want to know more about. Once you have a general ‘template’ of the person you want to create, give them characteristics that make them unique. Do they enjoy a particular sport, or a food, or some other activity? Do they have an alter ego they only show to certain people, but not others? Once you know these things, have those characteristics play a part in what drives them to have sex.

It may help to base your characters on people you already know. I know that seems weird to do with erotica, but it’s not a bad idea either. Of course, characters will seem more real if you base them on real people. But, if you’re still having trouble, you can get a better idea of how to portray a female character by reading stories written from female authors. After all, who knows about female characters better than female writers? I have several female friends who are female erotica writers, and I read their work often to see what works for them, and apply their techniques to my own work. Seriously, this probably should have been my first suggestion.

Finally, the best piece of advice I can give you is this: the woman you are describing is what you make her. It may seem a bit daunting to figure out exactly how a woman would react to any given situation, but they’re still going to do whatever you say they do. Even with everything you’ve just gone through to make a believable woman, they’re still a character in your story. It may not always make sense to the person reading it, but you’re still the writer, and if it makes sense to you, then let it happen. Don’t let doubt discourage you from allowing your story to end the way you intended it to.

Keeping these things in mind, just remember female characters are people. They can be as simple, or as complex, as you want them to be. Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t write from a female perspective, just because you have a penis. Ladies, we may not know what goes on in your mind, but we’re trying to figure it out. So… go easy on us?

Ritual Offerings: The Beginning

This week’s story tells the tale of a modern witch who plays with forces beyond her control, and several appendages who take control.

“I appeal to thee, oh goddess, please grant me my wish. Let my desire be fulfilled! Grant me the power to cast my will on those who have wronged me.” The words rang in the small room of the apartment, bouncing off the walls repeatedly. There was nothing else in the room to absorb the noise anyhow. This was Charley’s spare bedroom in her apartment, and like many young 22-year-olds trying to pay for school, she hadn’t filled it with anything. In fact, the only thing within the small room, besides Charley, were some candles, some incense, a few bundles of dried herbs, a cloth tapestry with a large pentacle, and a paperback spellbook from the local book store.

The young witch had been sitting on her knees with her arms raised, to preside over her ritual space. She wore a green ritual robe she bought online from a website selling magical goods, and thought it looked good on her, as it emphasized her cleavage, and made her curvy body look far more sexy, in her opinion. Just about all of her ritual goods had been purchased from one store or another, but that fact never seemed to bother her. She’d been a ‘practicing’ witch since she was nineteen, but never recognized the reason none of her spells or rituals ever seemed to work. So it was no surprise that this plea to the goddess was met with an anticlimactic lack of anything happening.

Charley had kept her eyes closed while she was chanting, and waited a few moments before opening them again. Her green pupils scanned the room a few moments, looking for any sign of magic, like a divine presence, or maybe some form of swirling energy. Nothing was happening, the way it often did, but she tried hard to feel some sort of magic at work in her body. She flung her head back, her curled, auburn hair swung around just past her shoulders as she tried to accept a magical energy that clearly didn’t manifest. She straightened herself up again as the imagined energy receded, and thought she would at least try to make something happen.

She focused hard on what she wanted to do. She imagined the group of preppy girls at her school who often berated her because she was a bit bigger than them, and because she didn’t conceal the fact that she was a witch. Strangely enough, she was often regarded as the ‘sexy witch girl’, and yet, didn’t get asked out very often. She would have said yes to just about any good-looking guy who offered her dinner, entertainment, and a night of rough passion. However, Charley blamed the preppy girls who spread rumors about her for not getting laid more often.

She knew the preppy group of bitches had only ever been jealous of her, but it was no excuse to act so toxic to her. Charley concentrated harder on making at least one of them suffer, but soon found herself feeling powerless, and a bit embarrassed. She sighed, exasperated, and lowered her arms, defeated. She started to stress herself out because she wanted so badly to use magic to get back at them, but nothing seemed to work out. She tried every spell suggested to her from the paperback spellbook, but ended up cursing the name of it’s author: ‘Raven Autumnspirit’.

She kept thinking there had to be something she could do, something proven to work, something she could perform by herself and with the materials she had. Her self-caused stress was beginning to give her a headache, so she left everything on the floor where it sat, and went back into her living room. This room was at least more furnished than the ritual room. There was a big, comfy chair where she liked to sit and look at her notebook laptop. A small television with a dvd player, and a few decent channels sat inside a small, wooden entertainment center. Finally, a small, attached kitchen completed the apartment, providing the essentials like a stove, refrigerator, and sink.

She grabbed a painkiller from the bathroom, and turned on the faucet to pour herself a glass of water. Once she took her pill, she sat down in her reclining chair to look up some of the witchcraft forums on her laptop. She was a member of several online groups, and even gained a spot as admin on a few. She opened several tabs on her web browser, with each one displaying a different group. Charley was determined to find out if there was an effective spell she could perform that would get her retribution.

She searched for over an hour, and was discouraged by the fact everyone insisted that it would be wrong to use magic to get revenge on others, nor did they even know of any spell or ritual that could accomplish that. Charley stressed herself out again, conflicted by her obligations as a witch to only do good, yet driven to get back at those that had just spread rumors around the school that she now had a bunch of STDs. As she continued to look through the message boards, she saw something a bit peculiar in one discussion about what to do with naysayers. There was a post from a user she didn’t know, but was quickly removed from the group after making the post. It was hidden to everyone else, but as Charley was admin in this particular group, she could still read it.

The author of the post mentioned there was a way to grant your desire, despite whether it was good or bad, and provided a link to go with it. Out of curiosity, and a bit of desperation, she followed the link. There was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach as she clicked the link, and saw the next page turn black. She looked at the address in the web bar, but it didn’t look like any web address she’d ever seen before, just a jumble of characters that made no sense. On the page were several evil-looking symbols, and some text over it which seemed to describe a different kind of spell.

As she read the spell, she understood why the person who posted it was banned. The spell called for the aid of a demon, and was clearly the work of evil spirits. Charley was a bit scared, but continued to read it to herself. What she found odd was that the ritual called for materials she already had, and the invocation seemed rather easy and straightforward. It even assured the reader that the spirit would retreat back to where it came from once their desire had been fulfilled.

Charley could feel deep within herself that this wasn’t something she should take lightly, and questioned whether she was strong enough to control the ritual. ‘And why couldn’t I control a ritual like this? I’ve performed tons of rituals. This shouldn’t be any different.’ She thought to herself. Feeling assured, and confident that justice would finally be her’s, she returned to the empty room, bringing her laptop with her so she could set up the ritual arrangement. It called for a pentagram drawn with black salt, candles in each corner of the room, and a dagger to be kept nearby. All of which she did, and arranged it exactly as instructed.

There was a small flutter of excitement in Charley’s heart as she prepared to begin, and wondered what would happen to that toxic group of sluts. Whatever resulted from this, she was sure they deserved it, so she began. Charley had memorized the rest of the ritual, so she put her laptop away. The first thing she would have to do was become fully skyclad, which meant she had to become completely nude. She unfastened her green robe, and let it fall to her ankles, and looked down at herself.

Her pale, pink flesh became gently illuminated by the flickering flames of the candles, and made her feel slightly aroused just to see herself like this. Her large breasts looked firm and youthful, making her want to grab her boobs as she did sometimes, just because she could. Her womanhood was already cleanly shaven, as she did everyday, just in case occasion should ever suddenly come up. She ran her fingers through her hair quickly, and felt it fall over her back, and the tips tickled the tops of her breasts. She kneeled down to sit on her knees in front of the black salt pentagram.

Next, she had to speak an invocation to get the attention of the mischievous spirits, who would help her get what she wanted. She placed her hands above the black symbol on the carpet, and leaned in closer to whisper the words into the circle.

Suscipiam illud de manu mea. Tollite me, et da mihi.” she uttered in low, monotonous tone.

Just as the words left her lips, something happened that Charley had never seen before: the symbol on the floor gave the faintest red glow, and a low tone seemed to reverberate from it, then faded. Charley’s green eyes widened, and she moved away from it, surprised. ‘Did that really just happen? It’s dark in here, maybe the light from the candles are just playing tricks on my eyes?’ she thought to herself. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep going, but took a moment to compose herself, and remember this was what she wanted. There was only one more thing left to do.

The last part of the ritual was to use the dagger to give the spirits some kind of ‘offering’. Not only would this let the spirits know what you wanted to accomplish, but would also summon an appropriate spirit who could make it happen. Charley hadn’t thought this far ahead yet, but she considered what it was she wanted. The preppy sluts at school had been spreading rumors about her, and that had kept Charley from having a normal sex life, so maybe something to curse their sex lives? That seemed appropriate, but what could Charley offer to appease that particular spirit?

She thought long and hard about what she had to give, and what that spirit may want. Nothing easy came to mind, and nothing she had seemed good enough. ‘A sex demon…. It probably wants something sexual. But what?’ she thought. She had an idea, but it seemed a little farfetched to work. ‘I’ve come this far, it would be wrong for me to go back on it now.’ she finally thought.

Charley changed positions, with her knees in front of her, and resting her butt just outside of the border of the circle, her feet sitting on either side. Her legs were now spread open, and her shaved slit began to part, feeling the cool air in the room. Charley already knew, from lots of personal experience, that she was a squirter when she was stimulated enough, so that would be her offering. The ritual specified that the dagger was to be the tool required to give the offering to the circle, and that gave Charley a devious idea. As she inspected the dagger she had, she noticed the pommel was rounded and smooth, with a handle she thought was rather ‘knobby’.

The ritual doesn’t specify how the dagger is supposed to be used, only that it is used during the offering. Holding the dagger by the cross-guard, she laid down on her back, and touched the cold pommel to her small pleasure nub. It made her legs jerk a little, but she moved it further down to her slit,  already starting to feel herself become moist. It had been a few days since she last masturbated, so she became excited rather quickly. The stubby handle brushed up and down her clit as the pommel massaged her labia, and made her gasp quietly.

Within a few seconds of rubbing, her honey was already beginning to coat the pommel, letting it slide up and down her opening. She could feel her body starting to become warmer, and tiny shocks streamed from her pelvis all the way up her body. Something about doing this for a ritual was turning her on, strangely enough. She reached up and groped her own breast with her free hand, massaging it, and pinched her nipple just the way she liked it. She felt her sex throb from that pinch, and needed something inside her.

She held the dagger at a different angle, with the blade pointing out, and the pommel at her opening like a toy, ready to penetrate her. She let go of her breast, and used her fingers to spread her puffing lips apart, rubbing the tip of the brass knob over it, lubing it with her juices. Her desire and lust overtook her mind, and she slowly pushed the blade handle inside her. The cold metal teased her hot insides, with the size of the pommel larger than the head of any dick or toy she’d taken inside her before. It was a torturous pleasure she’d never experienced before, but she found it strangely satisfying.

She let out a quiet moan as she pushed it further and further inside her. She enjoyed the way the stubby handle felt as it rubbed past her labia. Soon, the entire handle was inside her. She kept it there a few moments, letting herself stretch around it’s size. Enjoying the feeling of something a bit bigger inside her, she almost forgot why she was using it to masturbate in the first place.

Slowly, she pulled it out a bit, then all the way inside her again. She moved it into her hot folds, feeling her honey coating it, and helping it slide into her easier and easier. Her hand picked up speed, moving faster and faster towards a steady pace that made her feel good. She knew that if she was going to make this happen, she needed to build up to a strong orgasm, so she thrusted it harder into herself, hitting her g-spot better and better. She let out louder moans as the intensity increased. Her breasts sat flat on her chest, and bounced with each thrust, and jiggled back into place. She loved that feeling on her chest when she had something thrusting hard into her.

Charley was starting to feel her sex building quickly, and she was eager to have her desire fulfilled, as well as her lust to be satisfied. She pumped the dagger handle into her faster and faster, while she roughly rubbed her clitoris with her other hand. Her moans grew long and loud, and she began to lift her butt off the ground. Just as she was about to reach climax, she focused her desire on making those bitches miserable. Her body clenched up, and a high-pitched squeal left her lips as she felt like she was exploding.

“Oh, FUCK!!” she yelled out as the dagger handle was practically forced out by the torrential stream of her love juices.

Charley continued to rub the entire top half of her swollen pussy, trying to get the most out of this incredible orgasm she wanted so badly. Her arm quickly grew worn out, and she could handle no more, so she stopped, and let her body rest on the ground once more. She laid there on the carpet, her chest heaving with heavy breaths as she recovered, and came down from her high. Remembering how the circle reacted to the incantation, she leaned up to see if anything had changed. Much of the black salt was definitely moistened by her love juices, along with some of it staining the carpet, but nothing had changed.

She groaned, and laid back down for a moment in disappointment. It was looking like her eyes were playing tricks on her before, after all. A moment later, she got up, and walked out of the room, and into her bathroom to clean off the dagger she’d used. Her insides were a bit sore from having something big and metal in her, but it did create some illusion of having had a night of rough sex. She wondered if, perhaps, she had just discovered a new kink he didn’t know she liked.

Remembering that there were still some candles burning in the room, she immediately went back in to blow them out. As she rounded the corner and entered the room, something grabbed her, and pulled her inside. It happened so suddenly, she didn’t even know what it was that had grabbed her. She screamed, but something quickly muffled her voice. She felt her body become suspended, like something was lifting her, but not by a person. She tried to struggle, but couldn’t escape from her captor.

She looked in horror as the culprit of her capture was a series of red, vine-like appendages that had wrapped around her arms, legs, and the center of her body. Her voice had been muffled by another one that had spread out over her mouth. The way the appendages held her, she was unable to break free, but they didn’t seem to try and cause her harm. She was being brought deeper into the room where she saw where her captor came from. The black salt symbol was now glowing bright red, and the long appendages had emerged from inside it, like a portal had been opened.

Charley watched on as she saw more tentacle-like appendages emerge from inside the circle. She couldn’t believe that the ritual had worked, and she had actually summoned this creature, but she was worried about whether it was here to help her, or harm her. As more tentacles rose out from the portal, she noticed these were different from the one’s that had bound her. Rather than resembling some kind of vine, these were a bit veiny, and had a larger knob on the end, almost phallic. Not only that, but they seemed to excrete some thin, clear slime from the ends.

The phallic tentacles came closer to her, hovering over her naked body, inspecting her. Charley squirmed, still trying to escape, and not have any of that slime drip onto her skin. She feared for her life, unsure what it was going to do to her, or why. Still unable to escape, the tentacles touched her chest, and rubbed their ends over her neck, breasts, and nipples. Charley jerked and let out a muffled yell of revulsion as the slime got all over her, yet, it glistened like she had been rubbed with baby oil.

Confused, she didn’t understand what it was doing, and then she felt it. She could feel it being absorbed by her skin, and sensed a burning sensation all over her torso. Her breasts were becoming extra warm, and a tingling sensation stimulated her nipples. She was burning up, but it also made her feel strangely aroused. Two tentacles were now coiling around her breasts, and moved curiously, squeezing and sliding over her swelling breasts. Charley’s large mounds had become much more sensitive as she realized the tentacles were groping her breasts, trying to please them. Worst of all, Charley was beginning to like it.

She started to squirm again, but this time, she reacted to how good she felt. She started to moan, but it was still muffled by her gag. She was reeling from the mixed feelings of horror, revulsion, and ecstasy she was feeling from these tentacles. A part of her was coming out that wanted to enjoy this, but they still left much to be desired. As if able to read her mind, her legs were being spread open, and held apart. There was more of the gel being smeared onto her pelvis now, as well as her inner thighs. Then she jumped as she felt it slide right down her womanhood, from her clitoris to her asshole.

She was worried to find out what would happen next, but as her skin absorbed it, she felt an insurmountable wave of desire and lust. Her body suddenly ached to be fucked, and her honey was already starting to flow. She felt herself become an insatiable beast in heat, and wanted something inside her: a cock, a dildo, the dagger handle, didn’t matter what, but she needed something quickly. The tentacle creature released the appendage gagging her, but kept the rest of her bound in submission. She was able to scream again, if she wanted to, but didn’t.

“Please. Fuck me right now! I need it! Please, put it in me.” she begged and pleaded.

It seemed to hear her pleas, and one of the knobbed tentacles started to hover around her wanting pussy. The anticipation was almost too much for Charley as her tits were teased mercilessly. She kept her eyes locked on that tentacle, not fighting her restraints any longer, and moaned loudly as she felt it touch her opening, and entered her. Charley flung her head back as she felt the blissfully perfect phallus inside her. It filled her to her limits, and it’s secretions sent her into fits of lust.

It started moving inside her, with the large knob sliding out just to her opening, and then as deep inside her as it could reach. It was already thrusting into her with the pace of a sex-crazed fiend. The secretions had worked as a good lube, letting it fuck her without any resistance. Charley let her head fall back, and let out a loud moan with each thrust. She could have easily been heard by any of her neighbors, but any of them would likely think she simply had an enthusiastic lover that night.

Charley’s body moved back and forth, swinging into her tentacled lover as it ravaged her. Her body was still sensitive from her last orgasm, which made every sliding movement inside her send small shockwaves through her body. She could feel an orgasm approaching already, and was already starting to pull on the limbs, wanting to clench her legs closed, the way she always did when she was about to cum. It was no use, the tentacles had a firm hold on her, and she would have to suffer the sweet agony of a climax, unhindered. She felt herself ready to explode, with white lights beginning to form in front of her eyes.

“Oh, fuck! I’m gonna fucking cum! I’m… gonna–!” she let out hastily.

Her chest clenched up, and her vocal chords tensed so her mouth could only let out a silent scream. Charley exhaled audibly as she felt a hot rush run through her cervix, and past the knobbed phallus. A wave of endorphins ran through her, and turned her mind into jelly. Surprisingly, the tentacled creature continued to ravage her sex, despite the orgasm. As if it hadn’t even noticed. For a few moments, Charley had gone completely numb to her fornicator.

As she came back from the orgasm high, her breaths were heavy and audible again. She looked down at herself, and watched, in bittersweet torture, the veiny appendage that was clearly not satisfied with her yet. Her large mounds were already swollen and red from her climax, and still bounced forward and back, dancing on her chest in a way her lovers always found alluring. Charley started to feel weak, her will to resist the creature had all but dissipated. She was already starting to feel the fatigue that came with multiple orgasms.

She began to drift towards blacking out, her mind emptied of all conscious thought, when a new sensation overtook her. A jolt ran through her nerves as something started to massage her hard nub. Another tentacle was rubbing itself against her clitoris, bringing her back to focus, and made her release another high-pitched moan. She spasmed uncontrollably from the sensory overload attacking her, already, extremely sensitive body. Charley could only let out long bellows of excitement as she was brought closer to her third orgasm.

She could feel this one would be the strongest, and almost wanted to cry, not sure if she could withstand it. She flailed her legs wildly, trying to escape, but it was no use. She could feel the walls of her cunt starting to tighten around the huge member. Her eyes started to roll towards the back of her head, and she used the last of her strength to orgasm once more, releasing a stream of her hot love juices, shooting past the tentacled prick. This time, the tentacled creature seemed to slow down, and ceased it’s copulation.

Too late, Charley was already beginning to drift into darkness, losing consciousness as her ravaging ended. She was lowered onto the ground, only able to breathe as the knobbed tentacle withdrew from her. Charley only managed to remain conscious long enough to see some kind of white energy being withdrawn from inside her as well. Her restraints were released, and every appendage returned to the glowing red symbol on the floor, dissolving inside it. As the creature disappeared entirely, along with the white energy, the glow faded.

Charley laid on the floor, used, exhausted, and only barely able to breathe. Her soulless body would remain in a constant state of sexual satisfaction she would never come down from. She would never know anything else, and she would never be restored. She had paid the price for tempting a demon of lust.

Truth or Dare

In this week’s Erotic Bite, we meet a young man who was unlucky enough to be left out of a sexual adventure. That is, until a MILF bombshell helps him get back at those who snubbed him. Enjoy!

The pressure was on as the young woman glanced at the people around her, trying to decide who was going to be next. Her choices came down to either one of the three young men who sat in front of her, or her blonde friend who sat next to her. Two of the men who sat before her were brunettes, while the other had short, raven hair. All three of them had athletic builds, although one of the brunettes seemed more muscular than the other two. She knew she wanted to pick one of them, but which one?

The five of them sat in a circle in the middle of a girl’s bedroom, in what they all regarded to be a really nice house. It belonged to Chelsea, or rather, her mother. She was currently the one trying to decide who to pick.

“Brandon, truth or dare?” she said, pointing to the brunette man with the larger build.

With a cheeky smile, the young man replied, “Dare.”

The whole group chuckled, not surprised by his choice. This game had been playing out for a while now, and for a group of college students with nothing else to do, the game had grown rather sexual very quickly. Everyone had already been dared right down to their underwear, and they didn’t seem ready to stop the game anytime soon. Chelsea and her friend were already dared out of their bras, and used their arms to cover their chests. The young woman with bottle-blonde hair gave a mischievous smile, and made her decision, “I dare you to remove your boxers, now.”

Her demand was first met by a growing ‘oooOO’ from the rest of the group, as Brandon was the first one to be dared into full nudity. Without any hesitation, he stood up from his spot on the floor, dropped trou, and held his arms up as if to reveal himself to the world. The girls laughed as they saw his semi-erect member flop out, while his friends averted their gaze, embarrassed. He seemed rather proud of his dick size, and didn’t mind showing it off either. Satisfied, he sat back down again, and everyone looked to Kaycee, the pretty girl with dirty-blonde hair, as it was now her turn.

Spending almost no time considering who to choose, she looked straight at the other brunette man, saying, “Jared, truth or dare?”

Looking a bit nervous, and a hint of a blush on his face, he hesitated a few moments, not sure what to say. But he gave in to the pressure, “Dare,” he replied.

No one was surprised when Kaycee pointed straight to his boxers, and with an interested smile, said, “Off with them.”

Unlike Brandon, Jared was a bit more conservative. Rather than standing and making it into a spectacle, the bashful brunette rolled onto his back, slipped his boxers past his waist, and rolled back up into a seated position, moving the fabric down his legs, and off. He was now just as naked as his friend sitting next to him. As a joke, Brandon grabbed Jared’s boxers from him, and tossed them onto Chelsea’s bed, landing on her bright blue comforter. Jared was about to get up to retrieve it, but rolled his eyes as his friend chuckled beside him.

“Ok, it’s your turn,” Chelsea proclaimed, looking at Brandon. It wasn’t hard to see her eyes looking up and down his bare body. Plus, the way she would quickly glance at his groin when she thought no one was looking. She was terrible when it came to discretion.

Brandon was plainly having a difficult time making a decision on his next move. He wanted to make a strategic play that would work in his favour, and preferably, towards a sexual favour. It was a wonder he was able to use any sort of strategy, whatsoever, with so much blood gathering in places other than his brain. Still, the obvious choice was for him dare one of the young women to remove their panties, and let the pieces fall where they may. The group awaited his next move with anticipation.

“Chelsea, truth or dare?” he asked. You could almost see a tiny throb between his legs when he directed his question towards her.

Having come this far in the game, the blonde girl knew she could either take the dare, and be just as naked as them, or try to delay it by saying ‘truth’. But by doing so, she’d just be wimping out on a game that was her idea in the first place. She wasn’t about to punk out of the game, and she had other intentions once they were all naked anyway. She shifted in her seat, her breasts pressed up as she struggled to conceal them with her arm. With a bold look, she replied, “Dare.”

Kaycee gave her friend a look of disbelief, her mouth agape. Brandon gave the slyest smiled you’d ever seen, and went for the throat with his next dare, “I dare you and Kaycee to strip down and shower together.”

The whole group looked at him wide-eyed and fell silent. Up until now, this was just a friendly game that had turned into a peep show for them. But now, it had grown into what was possibly about to become a soft-core porno. Brandon raised his eyebrows at them, seeing if they would take his challenge or not.

Chelsea started first, “You can’t dare two people at once, just me. That’s against–”

“I’m in,” Kaycee interrupted.

Kaycee’s statement was met with another rise from the guys, and an astounded look from her friend. It was certainly not the reaction anyone was expecting from such a modest girl.

“See?” Brandon interjected, “Kaycee’s willing, so what’s it gonna be?”

Chelsea looked back towards Kaycee, and both of them began blushing and smiling at each other. They made small gestures with their faces, like small nods and moved their lips as if they wanted to say something. Their subtle form of communication seemed to concur to follow through with the dare. The two ladies got up, kept their chests covered, and sauntered into the adjoining bathroom. The guys watched with bated breath as there was only silence for a few moments, then the sound of the shower turning on.

All three guys got up, and wanted to see inside, as the bathroom door had been left open. They couldn’t see the shower directly, but the large mirror was visible, so they angled their heads to see the shower in it’s reflection. As promised, the two blonde women were clearly naked, in the shower together, and even went so far as to lather each other, making naughty noises as their hands ran over their bodies. The guys watched their peep show, making breathy chuckles, and kept their hands on their crotches, making sure their growing hard-ons didn’t touch each other. There seemed to be some giggling and whispers in the bathroom as the spectacle went on.

“Oh, Brandon,” Chelsea spoke with a raised sing-songy voice, trying to speak over the small roar of running water, “I dare you to come in here and join me.”

The two other men looked at Brandon, marvelled, and patted him on the shoulder, encouraging him to go in. Just as he did, Kaycee spoke up as well.

“Hey, Jared? I dare you to join me as well.”

With that, the modest young man with the dark hair got up, and eagerly made his way into the bathroom. Thinking he would be called in next, Justin waited patiently for one of the ladies to call him in. He imagined the wild orgy that would likely take place in the large shower Chelsea had. He’d never had any experience as wild as this before, and his heart was nearly about to beat out of his chest. All he had to do was wait for his invitation to join in on the fun.

He waited and waited, for several minutes, hearing nothing but small moans, kissing noises, and giggles. Justin was sure his moment would arrive any second now. As the anticipation built up further, he heard one of the girls let out a shudder, then a moan. Justin angled his head to see the mirror again, but it was already starting to fog up. All the same, he could tell Chelsea was the one moaning, and she and Brandon had begun having sex. Only moments later, Kaycee and Jared followed suit.

With all four of them in the shower, touching each other’s bodies, pleasuring each other, giving in to their desires, it was looking less and less as if Justin was ever going to be invited in to join the party. He had been left behind, still in his boxers, and beginning to feel rather hurt, and depressed. He considered leaving, but wanted to hold out for hope, thinking his friends would realise that he was still there. Every passing moment was beginning to feel more and more insulting. He decided to just sit back down, and waited for the awkward moment when they would come out, and see him still waiting there.

“Who are you?” a woman spoke from behind him. Justin turned around to see an older woman standing in the doorway of Chelsea’s bedroom, wearing a fitted black dress with lace over the shoulders. Justin recognised the blonde woman as Chelsea’s mother, from the few odd occasions she picked Chelsea up from her classes. She was a bottle blonde, just like her daughter, but had a bigger rack, and rocked a milf body to match. She was a bombshell of a woman.

Still, she had caught Justin in her daughter’s room, and he didn’t have any decent excuses as to why he was there alone, wearing only his boxers.

“I’m Justin, I’m… I’m a friend of Chelsea’s… from school,” he uttered, not having any other good responses to give. His stomach sank, and he felt a very real threat of being marked as some kind of pervert. The fact his dick was already hard didn’t help his case either. There was a moment of silence, coupled with an appalled look from Chelsea’s mother.

“Where is Chelsea?” she asked. Before Justin could muster the words to reply, a sudden, resonating moan from her daughter erupted from the adjacent bathroom. Chelsea’s mother opened her mouth, shocked, and understandably so.

She turned her attention back to the brunette pervert sitting on the floor, “Who’s in there with her?”

Justin thought it odd, at first, that Chelsea didn’t hear her mother’s voice over the sound of running water, but felt obligated to answer her honestly, “Brandon… and Kaycee, and Jared.” His response was nervous, and he feared what she might say next. Things weren’t looking good for him, or for his friends. She looked back towards the open door leading into the bathroom, and seemed ready to rain on the party.

“Every fucking time I leave her at home, she thinks it’s ok to pull some shit like this?” she proclaimed. Justin couldn’t help but wonder how often this happened in the past. Chelsea’s mom stepped forward, ready to barge into the bathroom.

“She thinks she can just have an orgy while I’m gone and–” she stopped abruptly, and cut off her own sentence, standing in the middle of the room. She turned to Justin again, and it finally occurred to her, “Hold on, did they just leave you out here?”

Justin nodded, reminded of how bad he felt prior to her coming into the room. The middle-aged blonde sighed, exasperated, and crossed her arms. More moaning could be heard from the shower, and it sounded like it was becoming a bit more hardcore in there. Justin could see the the blonde bombshell’s face start to turn red as she listened to her daughter getting pounded by a jock. It seemed she’d had enough, and was ready to take action.

“Get up,” she demanded of him, “What’s your name?”

“J-Justin,” he stammered.

She grabbed his forearm, about to lead him out of the room. “Wait,” she stalled, “First, take off your boxers. Leave them on the floor for them to find after they’re done.”

Shocked, Justin did as he was told, and removed them. He made sure to drop them on the same spot of the floor where he’d been sitting. He suspected she had some other, more devious, plan to punish her daughter, but had no idea what it entailed. He felt a bit awkward, being naked in front of Chelsea’s mother, but noticed that she stared at his hard member for a few moments. She seemed to make a quick smirk as she raised an eyebrow, then led him out of the room, clutching his arm like an angry mother.

“Little slut thinks she can fuck any guy she wants while I’m gone? No! I’m tired of her shit! This is my fucking house!” she rambled on while towing Justin behind her.

The brunette man was feeling very anxious, and kept looking around, wondering where they were going, and if anyone else could see him. She was leading him down some long hallways, and entered a room. Justin was taken aback by how nice the room was furnished, but that thought ceased when the blonde mother closed the door behind them. On the other end of the room was a large, king-sized bed with a dark, wooden frame. Justin found himself now standing in the middle of what must have been the blonde woman’s bedroom, with her staring him down.

“I– I’m not sure what’s going on,” he stammered.

“What’s going on,” she began, her arms crossed, and her eyes looking up and down his bare body, “is I work all day, dealing with bullshit from my clients, only to come home and deal with bullshit from my daughter. And she thinks she can just live off my success, and fuck any guy she wants?” she slowly stepped towards him, “No, I have needs too. And since you were so rudely left out, we’re both going to give that bitch what’s coming to her.”

Justin’s stomach dropped again, “I-I don’t… What’s happening here?” he could barely formulate his words correctly.

Chelsea’s mom tilted her head down slightly, and raised her eyebrows at him. She had a look that wondered if Justin was naive, or just stupid, “Did you honestly think I would catch you, and you would just walk out of here without doing something for me? You’re lucky I didn’t throw you out, just as you are now.”

He looked down at himself, nothing but his hands to cover himself. He looked back up at the blonde goddess again, fearful of her wrath, but eager to make her happy. He watched as she approached him, her tall stature placed her only a couple inches taller than Justin, but he was already below average height. She stopped just in front of him, and looked up and down his body. Her perfume was already invading his nostrils, and he felt her body heat against his skin. Her very presence made it difficult to keep his true desires hidden in his hands. Justin blushed, his skin began to turn a slight shade of pink as he was too nervous to do or say anything to this woman he’d fantasised about on several occasions.

She giggled as her eyes came back up to his. She may have been pissed at her daughter, but she was liking what she saw, and took the opportunity to send a message to her daughter about bringing people over just to have a fuck. She always had to keep herself so composed while she was at her own company, it was nice to be able to let go, and say what she really wanted. She had this virile, young man within her control, and kitty wanted to play.

“Unzip me.” she commanded him, her voice was low and domineering, but seductive.

Justin blushed a deeper red, and he hesitated for a moment before he removed his hands from his hardened member, and reached around her, searching her back for the little tab. Just as he found it, he pulled it down as his goddess had instructed him. As it stopped at the small of her back, she had already slipped her shoulders out, and a pair of huge knockers stared Justin in the face, covered only by a black and blue bra. There was a sudden tightening feeling in Justin’s prick, like it had just engorged to its physical limit.

The blonde giggled and bit her lip, “Do you like them?”

Justin nodded, not sure if he was supposed to do something, or nothing.

She smiled at his nervous expression, then spoke, “Well, touch them! I’m not gonna do all the work myself.”

Feeling flustered, he quickly brought his hands up to her chest, and cupped one in each hand. He was in disbelief for a moment before he slowly groped them. His breathing was anxious, but tried hard to stay cool about it. Gradually, he applied more pressure, making sure not to be rough, or too unnecessarily gentle.

“Good boy,” the blonde encouraged. She shimmied herself out of the black dress, letting it fall to her ankles. She kept smiling at him as she reached behind her back to undo her bra. The young man could hardly believe this was happening as the cups came off, slipping open into his hands. She took it from him, tossing it aside, and made sure Justin got a good look at her.

She was the full package of great body, awesome tits, and the persona of a vixen. Justin took her breasts in his hands again, savouring their feel in his hands. He was surprised to find they were too big for just one hand to hold, but didn’t stop him from trying. She held him by the back of the head, and pulled his face straight into her chest, trying to embolden him into putting in more effort. Justin began to feel like he wasn’t performing up to par, but remembered how bad he felt sitting in that room alone, dejected.

If he was going to get back at them, he needed to act like it. His attitude changed, and he no longer wanted to hold back, despite the fact this was Chelsea’s mom. He placed a hand at the small of her back, and pulled her into his body as he groped her breast. Her eyes widened, and her expression became more enticed.

“Well, it’s about time,” she purred. Reaching down, she found his prick and stroked him gently. Her breathing became excited, and Justin could tell she was starting to get hot. Her nipple quickly grew hard under his palm, and he took it between his fingers. As soon as he gave it a little squeeze, she tilted her head back and moaned. Her grip on his cock tightened, and stroked him faster. She grabbed onto his shoulder, and gripped tightly, digging her nails into his skin. Justin released her hardened nipple, and she let out a shudder, allowing her body to calm.

“Lay down on the bed,” he instructed the blonde woman. He had something in mind just for her. A woman in need of gratification as much as her, he thought, deserved special treatment.

She hesitated, not used to having someone else tell her what to do, but she was also intrigued by his candour. She walked past him, her eyes staying on his, and stepped to the side of the bed, scooting her butt against the faux-fur blanket until she laid in the centre. He followed her onto the bed, and sat on his knees with his feet hanging off the edge. His hands ran up her thighs, and his head looked up her body.

“I just realised, I don’t know your name,” he admitted, his hands creeping along her thighs, towards the bands of her matching black and blue panties, “You’ve always just been ‘Chelsea’s mom’ to me and the other guys.”

Her eyes kept locked on his while she gave a playful smile. There was this vibe about her that made Justin think that fact was actually cute to her. He worried admitting that might have offended her, but they were both past the point of over-familiarity now.

“Call me Yvonne,” she responded, sounding almost a little flattered by his request. There was a brief moment between them when the blackmail and punishment had dissolved, and the two of them now seemed motivated by their desire to have each other.

“Ok, Yvonne,” he spoke slowly. His fingers slipped around the sides of her panties’ waistband, and slowly pulled on them. Yvonne raised her butt off the bed to let it slide past her cheeks, then raised her legs pointing straight up to let Justin move them past her knees, and out past her ankles. All the while, giving Justin a hint as to how flexible her legs could be. As he tossed the panties aside, he took the back of her calves in each hand, moving them apart, spreading her legs. His eyes immediately fell upon her mound, and his prick throbbed with excitement.

He could barely keep in his lust as her thighs parted, and her labia broaden out to unveil her honey pot. Every part of Justin’s being wanted to plunge his cock deep into her opening, but he held back, knowing he had to savour this. Yvonne’s eyes watched his face as he lowered his head, and the lower part of his face disappeared between her thighs. He playfully kissed her perfectly bare mound, causing her chest to heave in surprise, and a small gasp to leave her lips. The scent of her sex was already driving Justin crazy, provoking him to devour her pussy. Keeping his hands on her inner thighs, he extended his tongue, and licked her opening, from the bottom, up to her clitoris, tasting her.

Yvonne’s thighs shook at the feeling of his tongue, followed by another gasp, and that was all that was needed to inspire Justin to do more. He licked her again and again, moving the tip of his tongue side to side, up and down, moving part-ways inside her slit, and tracing circles around her tiny pleasure nub. He licked up her honey as he felt her labia growing hotter against his lips. Yvonne moaned like a woman who had been without satisfaction for so long. Justin looked up and watched her grope her own breasts as she enjoyed the special treatment.

Yvonne’s moans grew, more and more as her chest began to heave. Justin could feel her thighs slowly starting to move together, beginning to trap his face in her snatch. He knew she was getting close to climax, and held her thighs down as best he could until he was finished. He felt her hands clutch the hair on the back of his head, and pulled his face deeper into her. Justin thought he would drown in her honey, but he persisted, focusing his tongue movements on her clit. There was a moment of bracing from Yvonne’s body, and then an explosion of spasming muscles. She let out a long moan of ecstasy, which Justin couldn’t hear, as her thighs were squeezing the sides of his head.

Unable to take any more, she forced Justin’s face out of her lap, and breathed heavily as she came down from her much needed endorphin high. Justin sat back and observed her, catching his breath, and smiling at how satisfied the buxom blonde looked. His cock ached as it was desperate to have a turn in her snatch, he reached down and gave himself a couple strokes as he watched her tits rise and lower when she breathed. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to be inside her. Justin climbed over her body, positioning his waist between her legs, his eyes looking down, and locking with her hazel eyes.

She looked back up at him, ready and willing to have him, but her demeanour changed, and a playful and devious look surprised Justin. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and shoved him onto the bed next to her. She kept him on his back as she rolled over on top of him, and giggled. She was ready to return the favour. Yvonne straddled his waist, and rubbed her puffy slit along his shaft, biting her lip as she watched his face. Justin had a look of torture as he watched his cock, already about to burst, getting rubbed on by the pussy of a goddess, instead of penetrating her. His eyes nearly welled up when she finally showed him mercy.

Raising her hips up, she giggled and lowered her torso onto his, letting her large mounds rest on his chest, and her lips lock with his. Justin returned the kiss, and felt a hand grab his member, and then the hot, moist feeling of her slit wrapping around the head of his dick. She moaned into his lips as she lowered herself onto him, taking every inch of his prick inside her. After being on edge for so long, it only took a few slight movements to make the young, brunette man unload inside her. He grunted, wrapping his arms around Yvonne’s back, and thrust his hips up as he came.

Oddly enough, Yvonne either didn’t seem to notice, or just didn’t care. She continued to roll her hips back and forth, feeling his rod slide in and out of her. Justin moaned with her, feeling an immediate sensory overload from his groin. His body spasmed as her folds clenched around his shaft. She felt hot all around him, her insides were like silk. Incredibly enough, Justin was able to keep himself hard, despite his premature ejaculation. He reached forward and grasped her thighs as he braced each shock wave of pleasure.

His touch only encouraged Yvonne to keep going. She began raising her hips up and down over his lap, bouncing on his cock. Her ass slapped against his hips harder and harder as she rode him, her moaning came out in short bursts that made her seem determined, and domineering. Her breasts swayed and bounced right over Justin’s face, dancing for him, hypnotising him. He couldn’t resist reaching back up and grabbing them, just to grope them some more. He already came inside her, and miraculously, managed to stay hard to this point. She was his goddess, and he would not squander this opportunity to bring her to climax.

Yvonne changed her movements again, going back to grinding back and forth in his lap. Her head fell backward as she leaned away, supporting herself with her hands on the bed. She appeared to be enjoying herself, and let herself slow down, while keeping a good pace. Looking up at her, the young man watched as her body shimmered from a thin layer of sweat. The hot scent of their bodies was already filling the room, like they had been long-time lovers. In the midst of her hips sliding her puffy folds against his member, and the long moans that escaped her lips, she managed to speak.

“God, your cock feels so good! I haven’t had one this good in a long time,” she spoke, never stopping.

Her words emboldened him, and he managed to get his second wind, finally. He was already sweating as well, but no longer had to focus just to stay hard for her. With renewed spirit, he decided to change things up. Justin leaned up, grabbing the bottoms of her thighs, and lifting them up, tilting her backwards onto the bed, putting Yvonne on her back. Keeping her thighs on his waist, Justin leaned forward over her, in a kind of pile-driving position. Yvonne’s eyes widened in a nervous shock. She barely managed to speak out when he started moving hard and deep into her, interrupting her with each thrust.

“Easy there, ti– Oh, my gawd, that– Oh, Fuck! Aaahh…” she could only moan loudly after that. Justin could feel the head of his cock hitting something in the back of her pussy that made her cry out, and her legs kick up every time he pushed in deep. He made for her g-spot with every thrust, holding her thighs where they were on his waist, and keeping his goddess under his control. Yvonne was a woman who was always in control, but it seemed like relinquishing it to Justin turned her on even more.

In less than a minute, her soaking pussy began to tighten around him. He could feel her folds stretching as he moved into her. Her body became hot, and it was clear she was approaching another climax. She cried out louder, and kept her eyes locked on his as Justin moved faster and faster. He felt his own orgasm approaching as well, and pounded his cock into her, hoping to make her cum with him. Only, too late, he had already begun to cum inside her again. His face changed, and he grunted loudly as he released into her. Seeing Justin cum, Yvonne suddenly arched her back, tilting her head away, her mouth open wide in a silent scream as she climaxed for him, and wrapped her thighs around his waist.

Seconds later, their orgasms had subsided, and Justin collapsed on top of her, struggling to catch his breath after what was the greatest sexual experience of his life. He rested his head on her chest, her breasts making the perfect pillows for him, and rested for a few minutes. Their hips continued to jerk a bit as Justin’s softening cock slowly slid out of Yvonne’s slit, followed by a tiny stream of white fluid. Now that his lust had been sated, a worry crossed the young man’s mind that hadn’t been there before.

“What am I going to tell the others what happened?” he asked.

Yvonne giggled a few seconds before she responded, “You tell them exactly what happened, baby.” They both chuckled for a bit before they found the strength to get up.

A few minutes later, Justin made his way down the halls of the enormous house, looking for Chelsea’s room so he could get dressed again. As he found the right door, and entered, everyone was already out of the shower, towelled off, and back in their underwear. The four of them immediately looked at Justin in surprise.

“Dude, where’d you go? You left your clothes here,” Brandon asked.

Justin couldn’t help but blush a little, “Oh, I was uhh–”

“Why are you wearing my mom’s bathrobe?” Chelsea interrupted, sounding a bit offended.

Justin looked down at himself, seeing the soft, black robe wrapped around his nude body, and tied with a sash. Before he could respond, Yvonne slowly walked past the bedroom doorway, wearing a purple, satin, see-through robe. Her eyes scanned everyone in the room, and smiled, biting her lip as she looked at Justin, then left. Everyone in the room froze in stunned shock as they realised what had happened. Chelsea looked mortified, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. Brandon and Jared looked extremely impressed, and held up their arms, looking to high-five Justin. That day marked the beginning of Justin’s legend, as ‘the guy who banged Chelsea’s mom’.


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