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.
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.
My name is Charlton, and for a long time I considered myself an amateur when it came to sex. I was just a simple guy, enlisted in the Navy because it paid for college. I did have a girlfriend who I stayed with off base, but I had always worked really long hours. I would often get back so late that she would already be at work. My girlfriend, Jennifer, worked as a stripper at a club not far from the base, which is where we met.
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.
Mark jumped in the shower quickly, then looked at himself in the slightly fogged mirror. He was in his mid-twenties with a well-toned body. His short brown hair was brushed back and to the side, matching well with his handsome features. He made his way to his room and got dressed. Rather than wearing something casual, like most men did at the club, he preferred to dress nicely. A good-looking, grey, casual suit was his choice for tonight, and he made it look damn good.
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.
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.
Normally, Sara had a rule about flirting when she was in her pajamas, or trying to do school work, but she decided to break that rule, if only just this once. She nodded, and the dark-haired man grabbed a chair from the table nearby, setting it next to Sara’s booth. As he sat down, he also set his drink on the table. Sara hadn’t noticed it before, but the aroma from his cup smelled like chai tea and cream. Next to vanilla lattes, chai tea was her favorite drink at this cafe.
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.
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.
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.
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.