A Sex Story!
- Thread starter ScientistOfDarkness
- Start date
By the way if I were to ask you to lie in a tub of cold ice then play dead that wouldn't bother you....right?DarkNoise said:
PlatypusJesus
A Dead Sun Serenity
"then play dead"
.................I'LL SLEEP IN THIS QUIET ROOM WHERE NO ONE SEES
I'LL PLAY DEAD!!
.................I'LL SLEEP IN THIS QUIET ROOM WHERE NO ONE SEES
I'LL PLAY DEAD!!
MajestikMøøse
Membrum virile
Chromatose
Squid pro quo
FretsAflame
Undercover Shredder
FretsAflame
Undercover Shredder
FretsAflame said:
... yes, what is "the sound of one hand typing" - thank you alex, i'll take masturbating to disturbing literary texts for ... for... for... ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh yeeeeeees 1002!!!!!!!!
Tee
Satan's yoyo
Volke
Sanguine Divinity
I would like to urinate standing up.Tee said:hmm... well, partially, yes.
I'm kidding (well no I'm not that would be ever so useful) but I understand penis envy, to an extent too.
Tee
Satan's yoyo
yes, but no balls envy. that causes problems... :Smokedev: so, penis w/out sacks(???)plz... thx.
)plz... thx.
MajestikMøøse
Membrum virile
Tee said:yes, but no balls envy. that causes problems... :Smokedev: so, penis w/out sacks(???
ugh... horrible flashbacks of MightyA/ggggggu's Off Topic Posts
Yes! For balls are hairy and cause children.Tee said:yes, but no balls envy. that causes problems... :Smokedev: so, penis w/out sacks(???
Tee
Satan's yoyo
I don't have a problem with the "hairy" part, or with "causing children-for-whoever-wants-them" but... I guess it must be a horror if one's (man's) life is directed by a pair of meat noodles. and it is, as we witness on daily basis.
and it is, as we witness on daily basis.
Volke
Sanguine Divinity
Phone Sex
Standing under the teeming shower Bell felt like a tired child on Christmas night trying to remember her new presents. So much had happened since she was last in her own apartment that she could barely believe it had been only two nights. She knew she was not the same woman who had stepped out from this shower two nights before. Not only was there Jonathan and his exquisite kiss, talent for erotic surprise but the change that had been wrought in herself. She could now confidently cope with something like the sad Lesley; been made aware that her body was something in which could be made for worship, something she could take fierce pride; had, under the eyes of one immortal lover, orally taken another, and then, under the eyes of the other, given herself fully to her true lover. With pride she considered she had carried all before her with creditable aplomb. The excitement was not knowing where else this path, on which she had taken only the first few, faltering steps, might lead.Drying herself and hurrying to offer her hair to the salvage of heated rollers, she realized that tonight she was going to an event she had not even heard of hours before and there, in the company of an enviable escort, would meet again the legend for whom even the President of France turned out, and whom she had sexually satisfied. It was then that the echo of his promise to have her pose for him returned. It was enough to still her hands as they curled up her hair. Was it possible that the face staring back out of the mirror was really worthy of, as Roumain had claimed, immortality? Would, centuries from now, some man, from an, as yet, undreamed of generation, look on her body and feel lust for her? Had, she wondered, Mona Lisa harboured similar doubts before going to Da Vinci's studio when her immortal image was but an idea in the artist's mind?
One thing was certain, she thought, as she started on her base foundation, no woman had ever been so filled with certainty as was she at that moment.
When Jonathan arrived she had yet to pack and still to dress and barely opened the door to him before fleeing back into the bathroom aware of how little time there was before they had to leave.
" I'll only be a minute!" she called out to him as she sat before her mirror to apply an antique golden lip-gloss to her already made-up lips. Then she searched out a pair of silk stockings she'd bought the previous year and never, until now, found occasion to wear. Slipping into the fine silk gown she remembered how it had looked on her the first time she had worn it. How quickly it had responded to her body's warmth and clung so closely as to even outline her navel. Again she was reminded that to wear anything, even stockings, under the dress was impossible. The thought of going to this event near naked both bothered and thrilled her. Slipping into a pair of elegant evening mules she gave herself one last head to toe scrutiny before bracing herself for the presentation to Jonathan.
" Well?" she asked him coyly. " How do I look?"
" Unique!"
" Unique?"
Jonathan nodded. " There are very few women in this world who can look equally beautiful dressed or naked...You are among them." Pleased by the compliment she felt ready to be pedantically teasing. " To be among a number is not to be unique," she said with as much false petulance as she could muster.
" Exquisite, then?" he offered. " Is that better?" Pretending deep consideration she loftily replied; " Exquisitely beautiful, would be no more than acceptable..."
Jonathan laughed and, his eyes alight with lust and pleasure, started towards her, meanign to embrace her, but she turned away. " No, I spent ages on my hair and make-up and I'm not having you ruin it!"
" I was just going to remind you that you're pledged to me!" he said. " What if I want you naked? Now, this minute?"
" Absolutely no way!" she cried, and as he reached for her again, she remembered that the gown would be gone in seconds if he got his hands to the shoulder catches, and ran from him in a move which soon became a halting chase.
The chase was ended before it really got started when the phone rang. She knew immediately, as if sensing it from the sternness of the ring, that it would be her, almost completely forgotten, mother. Seeing Jonathan stilled by the interruption she went to the phone and lifted it. Her mother's voice poured into her ears. " Where on earth have you been? I've been calling and talking to that stupid machine of yours for days. Why haven't you called me back?"
" Mother, I've been busy..." she looked backover her shoulder and shrugged an apology in Jonathan's direction. " Too busy to return the messages I left on your machine?"
" I'm sorry, Mother, I haven't had time to play them back and I'm in a tremendous rush just at the moment--can I call you later?"
" NO!" cried her mother. " We've been worried sick about you..." with the stream of nonstop complaints ringing in her ears, Bell had dropped her guard against Jonathan only to be forcefully reminded of that oversight when she felt his hands at the fastening of the gown. The phone in her hand prevented anything but the weakest attempt to still the downward slide of the clinging silk. Covering the mouth piece she turned, genuinely angry, towards Jonathan. " No...we have to...this is my mother...I."
Determined and unsmiling Jonathan gently took away the one hand that stopped the gown from uncovering her entirely and she stared helplessly, and pled speechlessly, as the gown slid to the floor leaving her facing him, naked. " Please..." she begged, but Jonathan was implacable.
She was turned and he thrust hard into her from behind. Her gasp at his penetration carried all the way to Eastbourne. " Are you listening to a word I've said?" her mother was demanding. " It's that man, isn't it? The one you brought down here? I suppose you've been with him all this time with never a thought that we might be worrying about you? I think I have a right to know..." Her mother's words were now only background as the convulsions Jonathan was creating n her took command and extinguished all will to do anything but respond.
" Belinda?" her mother's voice was calling down the line. " What on earth is going on..."
" Mother, please..." she managed. " Not now. There's someone here..." she broke off, trying to silence her rising climax. " Who is there? HIm?" asked her mother and then, after a steely silenece in which Bell could almost sense the keening ears, added in horrified tones, " Oh my god! You're doing it with him right this minute aren't you? What on earth...? How dare you!" Bell heard the phone being slammed down in her desperate ear. " You bastard!" she seethed even as her body begged for release.
Jonathan pulled her hips tight to him as she, still holding the phone in one paralyzed hand, bent forward and gave him even greater access. " You're mine, now." he breathed throatily as he bent over her to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck.
" Yes!" she yelled into his face. " Drink my blood, suck me, fuck me!" then gave vent to a scream as the onrush of orgasm vibrated inwards before bursting out to encompass her entire body. Within a second she felt him straighten and then, as his grip dug painfully into her flesh, surge into her.
Standing under the teeming shower Bell felt like a tired child on Christmas night trying to remember her new presents. So much had happened since she was last in her own apartment that she could barely believe it had been only two nights. She knew she was not the same woman who had stepped out from this shower two nights before. Not only was there Jonathan and his exquisite kiss, talent for erotic surprise but the change that had been wrought in herself. She could now confidently cope with something like the sad Lesley; been made aware that her body was something in which could be made for worship, something she could take fierce pride; had, under the eyes of one immortal lover, orally taken another, and then, under the eyes of the other, given herself fully to her true lover. With pride she considered she had carried all before her with creditable aplomb. The excitement was not knowing where else this path, on which she had taken only the first few, faltering steps, might lead.Drying herself and hurrying to offer her hair to the salvage of heated rollers, she realized that tonight she was going to an event she had not even heard of hours before and there, in the company of an enviable escort, would meet again the legend for whom even the President of France turned out, and whom she had sexually satisfied. It was then that the echo of his promise to have her pose for him returned. It was enough to still her hands as they curled up her hair. Was it possible that the face staring back out of the mirror was really worthy of, as Roumain had claimed, immortality? Would, centuries from now, some man, from an, as yet, undreamed of generation, look on her body and feel lust for her? Had, she wondered, Mona Lisa harboured similar doubts before going to Da Vinci's studio when her immortal image was but an idea in the artist's mind?
One thing was certain, she thought, as she started on her base foundation, no woman had ever been so filled with certainty as was she at that moment.
When Jonathan arrived she had yet to pack and still to dress and barely opened the door to him before fleeing back into the bathroom aware of how little time there was before they had to leave.
" I'll only be a minute!" she called out to him as she sat before her mirror to apply an antique golden lip-gloss to her already made-up lips. Then she searched out a pair of silk stockings she'd bought the previous year and never, until now, found occasion to wear. Slipping into the fine silk gown she remembered how it had looked on her the first time she had worn it. How quickly it had responded to her body's warmth and clung so closely as to even outline her navel. Again she was reminded that to wear anything, even stockings, under the dress was impossible. The thought of going to this event near naked both bothered and thrilled her. Slipping into a pair of elegant evening mules she gave herself one last head to toe scrutiny before bracing herself for the presentation to Jonathan.
" Well?" she asked him coyly. " How do I look?"
" Unique!"
" Unique?"
Jonathan nodded. " There are very few women in this world who can look equally beautiful dressed or naked...You are among them." Pleased by the compliment she felt ready to be pedantically teasing. " To be among a number is not to be unique," she said with as much false petulance as she could muster.
" Exquisite, then?" he offered. " Is that better?" Pretending deep consideration she loftily replied; " Exquisitely beautiful, would be no more than acceptable..."
Jonathan laughed and, his eyes alight with lust and pleasure, started towards her, meanign to embrace her, but she turned away. " No, I spent ages on my hair and make-up and I'm not having you ruin it!"
" I was just going to remind you that you're pledged to me!" he said. " What if I want you naked? Now, this minute?"
" Absolutely no way!" she cried, and as he reached for her again, she remembered that the gown would be gone in seconds if he got his hands to the shoulder catches, and ran from him in a move which soon became a halting chase.
The chase was ended before it really got started when the phone rang. She knew immediately, as if sensing it from the sternness of the ring, that it would be her, almost completely forgotten, mother. Seeing Jonathan stilled by the interruption she went to the phone and lifted it. Her mother's voice poured into her ears. " Where on earth have you been? I've been calling and talking to that stupid machine of yours for days. Why haven't you called me back?"
" Mother, I've been busy..." she looked backover her shoulder and shrugged an apology in Jonathan's direction. " Too busy to return the messages I left on your machine?"
" I'm sorry, Mother, I haven't had time to play them back and I'm in a tremendous rush just at the moment--can I call you later?"
" NO!" cried her mother. " We've been worried sick about you..." with the stream of nonstop complaints ringing in her ears, Bell had dropped her guard against Jonathan only to be forcefully reminded of that oversight when she felt his hands at the fastening of the gown. The phone in her hand prevented anything but the weakest attempt to still the downward slide of the clinging silk. Covering the mouth piece she turned, genuinely angry, towards Jonathan. " No...we have to...this is my mother...I."
Determined and unsmiling Jonathan gently took away the one hand that stopped the gown from uncovering her entirely and she stared helplessly, and pled speechlessly, as the gown slid to the floor leaving her facing him, naked. " Please..." she begged, but Jonathan was implacable.
She was turned and he thrust hard into her from behind. Her gasp at his penetration carried all the way to Eastbourne. " Are you listening to a word I've said?" her mother was demanding. " It's that man, isn't it? The one you brought down here? I suppose you've been with him all this time with never a thought that we might be worrying about you? I think I have a right to know..." Her mother's words were now only background as the convulsions Jonathan was creating n her took command and extinguished all will to do anything but respond.
" Belinda?" her mother's voice was calling down the line. " What on earth is going on..."
" Mother, please..." she managed. " Not now. There's someone here..." she broke off, trying to silence her rising climax. " Who is there? HIm?" asked her mother and then, after a steely silenece in which Bell could almost sense the keening ears, added in horrified tones, " Oh my god! You're doing it with him right this minute aren't you? What on earth...? How dare you!" Bell heard the phone being slammed down in her desperate ear. " You bastard!" she seethed even as her body begged for release.
Jonathan pulled her hips tight to him as she, still holding the phone in one paralyzed hand, bent forward and gave him even greater access. " You're mine, now." he breathed throatily as he bent over her to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck.
" Yes!" she yelled into his face. " Drink my blood, suck me, fuck me!" then gave vent to a scream as the onrush of orgasm vibrated inwards before bursting out to encompass her entire body. Within a second she felt him straighten and then, as his grip dug painfully into her flesh, surge into her.
Perhaps. Isn't there a little necrophiliac in us all? :Spin: Or maybe you should post more stories...The Heart Collector said:
Volke
Sanguine Divinity
Sleeping with a vampire...I wonder does that count as being a necrophiliac? Since they are supposedly dead...
