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Not Safe For Work. From analyses of fantasies to erotic fiction, this is content you don't want your boss to catch you reading.

SINDAY ; ) Day 6 Short Erotic Stories
DAY 6 Short Erotic Stories Chapter 6 BUS part 2 My scream filled the air, my cum shot up like a volcano erupting, and my eyes are welding shut from all of this stimulation that feels fucking fantastic and borderline pain. Never have I ever cum so hard before. With the age of 45, she knew how to tease, and please a man VERY WELL.
By LB Harpdog Creator Of Bampires5 years ago in Filthy
Philantha, Part One
What do I care of him, the man writhing in rapture below my swirling hips? Nothing. The answer is nothing. It always is. I am Philantha, I’ve lived for hundreds of years, human beings are so boring, so petty. At least cats have the awareness of the continuity of their nine lives, humans are so ignorant. Only one is important to me.
By Alizabeth Edwards💕5 years ago in Filthy
Youngsters Caught Having Sex in a Running Train
Nations worldwide are enforcing measures to contain the second wave of Covid-19, with several countries in Europe, are experiencing an overwhelming spike in Covid-19 cases.
By Rui Alves5 years ago in Filthy
Chicago Bob Lady
Chicago Bob Lady, she’s one of a kind. You’re scared to approach her because of her stern facial expression. She’s unbothered and looks angry to you but she seems to be having a great day. She’s finishing the smooth smoke of a cigarette. You follow her to her next destination. A feeling of creep but you must know her name. You need an excuse to start a conversation. You check your pockets to see if you have a light, she clearly is a smoker. The Chicago Bob Lady is what you’ll call her. She hits the the right corner street, as she walks into a bar. You’re right behind her, 1 foot at a time, already practicing being cool. Left foot , right foot, real slick, I like that. Open the door of the business. Once you walk in you notice something strange.... Well where the hell did she go? You just seen her so what happened? You look left, hey ! Look right, hey ! Bartender where is the Bob Lady ?! The bartender looks to her right. You do as well, and as you do, coming out the bathroom, you see.. Oh here she is. Walking towards you... In this moment nothing else matters. Notice every detail of her strut. Long legs on her, Chicago Bob Lady, a lady that brings sexual tension like electrical storms. She walks by an every man goes out their way to take a look. Even woman taking the time to take a pause at the beauty. Now the attention is on you as she is making her way to your path, what should you do, cat got ya tounge. She pops a cigarette in her mouth as she asks if you have a light. Nervous so nervous you hand her a light. As she says.... What the fuck am I supposed to do with this light bulb?
By KrisMarshall5 years ago in Filthy
The Ballad of Aberdeen
Life comes in splatters and backstroked patterns against the grain. It’s an unseen Jackson Pollock made using the kind of ink that makes canvas rise. You can only see it in cryptic cuneiforms, by running your hand against it’s blind surface and feeling purely it’s beauty rumble beneath your fingers. My thoughts are reserved in blackness, my actions independent from the latter. I’m cryptic now, so cryptic now. Speaking against the wind into the distance. The Distance, he is my friend. He is vacancy brighter illuminated by the fluorescent no to his side. I don’t belong in his company, for he is just pure Distance, an idea that holds my past. I digress. Through the window I reflect.
By Matt Martin-Hall5 years ago in Filthy
Damian and Celeste
Damian and Celeste, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N...” “Be real careful how you choose your next words,” Celeste Said, “I’ve got a crossbow and a quiver full of arrows, and I am not afraid to use them.”
By Mimicking Madness6 years ago in Filthy
Salty Cream on My Tongue
Gay boys know exactly what I am talking about. The exquisite warm flesh in my mouth, the cock-head almost touching my epiglottis, making me gag. Sucking hard as I can, taking lovely soft, full flesh inside me, flesh pounding like the piston of a Porsche. My head bobbing fast as possible, eager, hungry, obsessed, more than ready to receive his thick, salty gushes of cream. Generous, rushes, spurts from deep in his big balls. I cup his balls in my hand, squeezing, teasing, caressing, as I gulp the full load. Then I let cream drip slowly from my lips, cream flowing from my mouth, glazing, frosting his aching, tingling cock-head.
By Gina Swan6 years ago in Filthy
Gold Dust Woman
Thank you all and here is another story about a girl who became a whore in Abilene, Kansas. Her name is Holly and she was one of those gals who'd have kept her youthful looks into old age had she made it to old age. It made her very desirable to a certain type of men--men who like to have their way with little girls.
By Lori Beasley Bradley6 years ago in Filthy
Violet Decedents
Violets skirts were clutched at the bends of her hips and billowed out around her plump behind. Her breasts had been liberated from the confines of her tightly drawn bodice. They struggled over the ridgid fabric, grateful for the freedom.
By Geneva Wolfe6 years ago in Filthy
Drugs, Sex & All of the Above -
Most people I know have dabbled in illicit substances. Smoked the happy weed, sniffed the nose candy, and ingested the love pills, whatever the term kids are using these days. It’s funny how the terms change but the practices remain with each new generation thinking they invented a new kind of rebellion. It’s like the word bonk or the even more offensive boink. My parents bonked, their parents shagged, my generation is somehow more puritan and over-sexed than our predecessors. We ‘get intimate’ and ‘hook-up’. It seems like a deceptively polite way to describe letting a stranger plow you from behind in an alleyway behind a club, but language is strange like that.
By Brendon6 years ago in Filthy
Raging Metal, Pissing Savior
Saori's pleated mini-skirt umbrellaed open, revealing the smooth skin of her naturally hairless pussy. There was a quick twitch of flesh as her muscles contracted followed by a light-yellow stream that hit the robot square in its visual receptors.
By Made in DNA6 years ago in Filthy
Thrall
Slowly, into the cool, icy night she walked. The lack of moonlight making the night particularly dark, but the gas lamps filling the cobbled streets with a dim glow in patches. Her heeled red shoes clicked on the paving slabs as she walked, in a somewhat hurried pace. Her dark shawl clenched tightly around her shoulders, and flowed over her breasts and down her back, flickering gently with the breeze. The all too short dress totally inappropriate for how cold it was in the dead of this night, clung to her slender figure, and where it did not cover, she was awash with shivers and goose-pimples. Her pale skin was pricked, and tender, but still she hurried on, not a doubt in her mind. Tonight, was the night. She was on cloud nine, ready to meet her love at the pre-arranged location. All too soon she turned a corner, and headed between two solid stone buildings, into a dark alleyway, with only the stars high above to illuminate it.
By Archy6 years ago in Filthy