A Quiet Evening at Home
- by Nicholas Fellheimer
(with thanks to PuppyLoverDawn!)

As I waited for the dog's thick cock to unknot from my ass and slowly came down from another orgasm, I opened my eyes and stared across the kitchen floor: in the living room, someone was fucking my youngest daughter on the couch, but I couldn't quite make out who it was. Sliding my face across the slick of spit and cum on the linoleum, I tried to get a better look, but the little whore kept thrashing around. Didn't look like her father, at least not from this angle. Probably one of Jeremy's friends.

Now I started wondering where my husband might have gotten off to. And was our back porch light on? He's probably out there selling tickets to the neighbors. I turned, and a rain of piss spattered across my face. Another of Jeremy's friends - in the study, my middle daughter was putting on some sort of slit-licking show with a young lady I had not yet been introduced to, much to the delight of the boys.

A second stream hit my face, followed by a third. The bathroom was apparently occupied, so someone had announced that the kitchen floor was now the place to piss. A dripping dick was wiped dry in my hair, then slipped into my mouth.

Goodness.

---

Maybe I should start from the beginning.
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I hope it's ok to post this here, I couldn't find another suitable website for my story my class inspired prose allowed. This is the succinct hot version of my story, names changed of course.

When he pierced me pulling gently on my sun bleached blond ponytail, I immediately knew that I’d changed, my blood it’s testimony, no longer a girl but a woman now. The pain I felt was incredible but short lived replaced by his fullness plunging deeply inside my depths forcing my cavity to form to him. Maybe I had been a woman for awhile clinging to my childhood fearing the loss of my simple innocent life being replaced by a difficult adult life. He changed me, I wanted it now feeling my excitement grow with his animal lust for me. I instinctual pushed back against him greedily wanting his entire length inside my wringing cavity craving him to complete his journey to feel his warm testicles press against me. His strong thrusts short but quick satisfyingly deep gently nudging my cervix open to readily accept his seed. His comforting weight over me comforted me pressing heavily against my trapped body on the picnic table as I felt his warm hips finally press against my bottom. His testicles repeatedly pressed against my sensitive clitoris teasing my mind and body to serve him as I gasped feeling my orgasm explode when he kept coming inside me.

His name was Cody, attractive, smart, confident, older, and respected by everyone. Cody was confidently unrestrained obviously open with his desires with the capacity to obtain it. He was excitingly dangerous making me uncomfortably wet each time he’d smile at me, looking at me as if I was naked. Willy, my insecure best friend since second grade, my constant companion, the one I’d always loved and cherished, hated Cody considering him a bully. The day it happened, the day I became a woman, Willy and I, exhausted from skating in the heat of the day were sitting on the cool grass at the skate park watching skaters when Cody joined us sitting next to me when I smiled at him with my invitation. Willy’s tension was obvious, my old pact to marry Willy when we were old enough threatened, Cody had smiled at me when he sat down causing me to squirm. Cody’s intoxicating perspiration from his hard masculine body overwhelmed my senses, I felt uncomfortably wet wondering if it was noticed. Willy was outmatched leaving soon after our small talk of skating technique, a challenging look between them confounding me. I felt uneasy, my safety gone with Willy’s disappearance.

My inexperienced young body in heat, I didn’t trust my thoughts with Cody. I stood up planning to leave but Cody caught my hand, stunned by the electric contact as Cody stopped me. Our eyes met, his intentions clear, I teasingly smiled at him instinctively running from him. I felt exhilarated sensing his close presence behind me deep into the privacy of the woods off the trail skipp Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Barbara and Bambi met while they were both working at La Femme, a strip club with a mostly lesbian clientele. It wasn’t love at first sight, but it certainly was lust. Barbara was in fact late getting to the runway for her three-dance set because she was screaming her orgasm from Bambi’s oral ministrations to her shaved pussy. When she could walk, Barbara strutted out on stage and explained her tardiness to the rapt audience... in very explicit detail as she squatted to show the women around the stage where Bambi had been licking her. Fingering herself to another orgasm on stage got Barbara a stern reprimand from management. But her fun had netted her over three hundred dollars in tips, a half-dozen phone numbers, and an invitation from Bambi to go home with her that night, which she accepted. They spent the rest of the night and the next day fucking in every manner possible, with the help of Bambi’s extensive collection of sex toys. Barbara moved in two weeks later. Six months of carnal bliss later, they agreed it should be a lifelong arrangement and they went shopping for rings that same day. The big day was set for three months later. Not surprisingly, they had their bachelorette party at La Femme, which closed for the night except for their guests, the other strippers, and a hand-picked few of the regular clientele of the club. Within twenty minutes of the start of the party, every one of the attendees was naked, if one doesn’t count the crowns Barbara and Bambi had to wear as the Guests of Honor. The previous six months had been the wildest in Barbara’s life, but it did not prepare her or even Bambi to be the center of over forty women all licking them all at the same time. Before the night was over, both of them had been licked, fingered, fisted, double-fisted, double-penetrated with strap-ons, and Bambi took two oversized strap-on dildoes in her ass at the same time. Barbara ended up in a kiddie pool the club owner had brought, with everyone who wanted to pissing on her. She had never done watersports before, but she ended the night a confirmed piss lover. The finale of the party, at five AM, was a forty-two woman daisy chain that snaked all around the club. The wedding ceremony the next day was a beautiful affair... all the attendees wore nothing but their skimpiest lingerie and the pastor wore only a gold-plated strap-on. And on their honeymoon, at a lesbian resort in Jamaica, things proceeded to get really wild…

Tags: Rape, underage, Lesbian relationships, prostitution, modern.

Prologue:

My name is Natalie Hawthorn, or at least for the purposes of this story it is. My name actually is Natalie, but I am using an alias for my surname, it will eventually make sense as to why. Too many people involved who I would prefer not end up in prison. I don’t really hate any of them, or those who I feel should be behind bars have a little too much dirt on my friends and family. Lesser of two evils in my opinion. I am twenty four and this story began pretty much exactly ten years ago. It was summer vacation. But it didn’t feel like vacation.
Some people stay home on their vacation, I was no different. My family didn’t have a lot of money, so when we went away, it was saving up for a few years beforehand. I remember Disney world a bit. I was eight. But I still do recall some rides here and there. Like the Teacups or the god forsaken It’s a Small World. That thing was an hour and a half of my life I will never get back. I still have PTSD from that song.
But as I said I stayed home most summers. Some days skateboarding but usually I took the chance to be lazy and watching TV. At school I ran track, and I was fast, like really fast. I won’t reveal how many state records I have as it will be a little too easy to find me, but I will say that I have at least one. That speed however did get the attention of a talent scout. It was our final meet of the year, and after getting a good four seconds between me and the next girl, i was approached. I was offered a position at a prestigious sports academy, the catch, it was literally across the country. I’m a New York girl, born and raised. The school was in California. Anyone can tell you it is far.
As I said my parents did not have a lot of money, and and the offered position was not a scholarship. You had to be good to get into the school, but it wasn’t a free ride. While this was an awesome opportunity and I was pretty excited, I also knew there was a slim chance it would come to fruition. I wasn’t expecting it to work. Even if my parents could find a way to cover tuition, it was in Cali, which meant I also needed room and board. It was not like I could just take a bus home each night and have a home cooked meal. So we were trying to think of an option that would work. I tire dto help my selling lemonade, but apparently a fourteen year old girl selling lemonade was not as cute as s ix year old doing it so I only made fifty cents, and only after Kelly offered to spike the drink.
Okay let me tell you about Kelly, She is supposed to be my brother’s girlfriend. I mean they fuck, that is not really disputed, but really she was not in love with him. She was dating him for a different reason and I will get to that in a second. Now during the summer she lived with us. This was mainly due to her parents being out of the country, claim it was business, and Kelly would pul Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

So, like many late-twenty-somethings in this economy, I find myself living with a roommate, and there are times when I legitimately loathe the man. We are actually fairly close friends, and we have a lot in common, as well as a lot of shared experience. We live in the same shitty apartment, we worked the same shitty job for years, which is how we met, and since we requested going on opposite shifts to get some time away from one another, our relationship has improved significantly. I don't truly hate the guy, but I don't spend more time than I have to with him. Fortunately, he seems to feel the same way, so we mostly just shoot the shit about wrestling, watch the pay-per-views together, and retreat to our respective rooms to get the fuck away from one another.

He's not such a bad guy in small doses, and there aren't many people who understand my love for the WWE like Paul does. He actually worked the indy circuit for a while, so we can connect on that level at least. He's still a paranoid motherfucker about money, but I pay well in advance, and we no longer split any bills except rent, electricity and internet. I may order out or he may order out, we may both even order out on the same night, but we no longer order out together. I have accepted that he will never do the dishes, he has accepted that I will never allow his drunken, virus-downloading, morbidly obese ass on my expensive office chair so he can destroy my operating system by visiting sketchy porn sites, or allow him to bum off my weed. If he wants to hit from my bowl, he needs to pitch in for the cost. On the flip side, I have accepted that I can only smoke up in my room since his daughter is over pretty much all the time. Her mother fucked off shortly after Kelly turned two. Last I'd heard, she'd gotten picked up for solicitation along with various drug charges. She wasn't up for parole for another seven years yet.

Paul was oddly clever for one so clearly controlled so exclusively by his hindbrain, but he had to take his time chewing each thought over before it was ready to be shared the way he meant it. He never forgot a thing, and he would hold on to thoughts to worry at them for hours, days, or even weeks. A grudge, he usually nursed no less than a week, and every time we argued I could count on Paul to bring up all sorts of old shit, but his ability to focus on a thought and fully break it down was impressive, and he would remember fun conversations too. He had great taste in movies, old blues and jazz and funk, and he could throw together a shockingly tasty meal with just about anything we had lying around the house. When he was sober, he could hold his own on topics close to his heart, and he made some connections that truly impressed me. Every now and then, often days or sometimes weeks after a conversation, he'd say something truly profound. He could also be really funny. Paul usually got two brilliant j Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

PART I

James swallowed hard as he walked toward the front door. He rang the doorbell and stood fidgeting on the stoop. James was a popular enough guy. He was a surfer with the classic long blond hair, blue eyed beach bum look, he was also a star swimmer -- the only freshman to make the varsity squad. Despite this he was nervous. This was the first time he’d gone to a girls house when her parents weren’t home. Not only that, but the girl, Julie, was the hottest freshman at school. The door swung open and Tommy, Julie’s brother, stood inside.

“Hey come on in,” said Tommy.

James stepped through the door and looked up at Tommy -- a senior and the captain of the swim team. He was at least 6 inches taller than him. Most guys were taller than James, who was barely 5-foot 7-inches. He walked into the hallway and looked into the living room where Chris -- Tommy’s best friend -- was sitting on the couch playing xbox. Chris was a wrestler and was short and broad chested, although he was still taller than James.

“Who invited the midget?” Chris called out.

“My sister,” said Tommy. “She’s upstairs in her room. Go on up its the first door on the right.”

James thanked Tommy and gave Chris the finger as he ran up the stairs. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. Julie was laying on her bed listening to her ipod and flipping through facebook on her laptop. She was laying on her stomach in just a sweater and panties. Her socked feet were crossed in the air behind her.

James felt his cock grow in his pants as he admired her smooth cream colored legs that led to a large round ass and narrow waist. Her straight blond hair was cut into a short bob. She looked back noticing James. Her big blue eyes widened and her pink lips parted leaving a surprised look on her gorgeous face. She pulled a blanket over her legs.
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Inspired/influenced by another of the greatest masterpieces of our time comes another story of "Young man arrives at a new place and must establish a harem of cute, young animal-eared girls in a medieval setting."

Tags: medieval fantasy, kemonomimi, interspecies romance, M/f, harem

I'm honestly not sure if it is yet worth posting, or ever will be, but considering the slow state of this board, it might be better than nothing. Ideas, suggestions, and comments are welcome.

Story will be super slow and so will updates. No sex yet.

"Earning Tips" Part 1

Tags: M/f, oral, not slow

=*=*=*=*=

“God, the tits on her!”

I rolled my eyes subtly. The two older men were almost fully twisted around in their chairs, leering at the blonde server relaying our order to the bartender.

“And did you see her ass when she walked off?”

I glanced at the last member of this foursome. He met my eyes, and very unsubtly rolled his.

“The girl looks like the letter ‘P’ from the side... y’know, with a ‘d’ comin’ off the backside.” I looked over at the bar, finally. Sadly, Ted was right. The young woman was stretched on her tippy-toes at the bar, in perfect profile. The tightly-fitted country club server’s uniform didn’t leave all that much to the imagination.
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Haven't been able to find a story quite like what I wanting to read, so I decided to write one. See if you like it.

Tags
(MF, M solo, MgFb, anal, implied incest.)


Brian crashed down on the couch, exhausted. He had just finished bringing in the last of the boxes from the u-haul into his dads new house, having spent the day helping him move in. The last load had been clearing out the storage unit his dad had kept most of his things(under Brian's name) in while he had been staying in a crap apartment during the divorce.
He had loaded and unloaded it all solo, his Dad having left early in the evening to go to the night shift he was covering for a coworker. He had told Brian not to worry about it, to just crash and take the night off to enjoy his first weekend of summer vacation from freshman year at college.
But he had done it anyway, he figured it would work as payment for his dad letting him crash here for free while he was out of school. It beat having to stay with Mom.
As he relaxed, he started thinking about what to do to entertain himself. He was too tired to think about going out, while the TV was set up, the cable and internet service wasnt going to be for another week.
So his usual private pastime of surfing the net for porn was out.
He did recall one of the boxes he hauled in had been labeled VCR though. The box was big enough that it had to also have tapes in it, and TV was old enough that it still had the right RCA connections.
Deciding some vintage movies and take out was good enough a prospect, he called in a pizza and went to unpack and peruse the nights options.
In the big box was about along with the slightly beat up old VCR was the usual assortment of uncased stacks of VHSs that accumulate in any household of a certain time, in a variety of genres, with peeling labels showing 80s action movies, kids cartoons, taped sport events and shows. Browsing through the top layer he decided on Predator as good nostalgic time waster.
By the time he had set things up the pizza had arrived, so he sat back and worked his way through too much pizza, and not enough action. He had forgotten how good a movie it was, in its own 80s way, that after finishing it and putting away the pizza he went back to the box to find out if the sequel was also in the cache.
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The book was old. It was bound in a now faded leather that hinted at the color black. It had several tears that had been stitched shut, some with professional precession and some were rough and untrained. The wear and tear the tomb exhibited could not even begin to tell the tale that lay inside it's pages. If it were to be opened one would find the paper musty,stiff, and yellowed with age. Some of the pages seem to have been torn out leaving only short ragged stubs to testify for their existence. Inside the worn cover of the old book was a short paragraph of small tightly written script pinned in black ink that had long since faded to blue, it read.

“ To my Robin, my daughter, my wife, my lover. You are what kept me going all these years. Yours forever Edward.”

May 19, 1954
I have not been this excited since I was a child on Christmas morning. My name is Edward Blanton, I am twenty nine years old, and I am a ornithologist. That is a bird scientist. I follow birds, watch birds, I love birds, birds are my passion. I will record all of my findings in this journal for posterity, but first I need to explain the adventure I am currently on.

You see there is a little known rare species of bird called the Blue Pope. It is a small bird close cousin to the finch but has a interesting blue coloration that makes it unique. It nests in southern Mexico during the winter months, but no one knows where they go for the summer. The Blue Pope has one other strange quality about it that makes it special. In the small southern town where the birds nest for half the year, it is the only place in Mexico where you can find Pope Berries. The berries are not native to the area and they seem to only begin sprouting when the birds appear every season. This has lead me to believe that the two are tied together somehow.

So no one knows where these strange little birds go for the summer, no one except me. I found out where they have been hiding, on my grandfathers land in Montana. I found this out several months ago when I was going through some of my grandfathers old books and found a sprig of Pope Berries pressed between the pages of one large tomb. When I asked my mother about it she told me it was from the cabin her father owned in the mountains, and that these plants grew wild there. It is a chunk of land closed off in a hidden valley that you had to have a plane to get to. Unless you were willing to hike the two days it took to get to the old cabin and that was a long trip over rough ground.

So here I am on a train to Montanan with my last seventy five bucks in my pocket. I hope that my guess is correct and I find my little birds there.

May 21, 1954
I have walked for the last two days and have finally reached the edge of the valley. I am sitting on the rim of what I can only assume is a old volcano bowl. There is a sizable lake at the very bottom of the crater that I was t Message too long. Click here to view the full text.