His bare feet step on the beat of the song. Pam pam pam. He follows the music, stretches his feet into every new musical nuance, his arms folded in front if him, holding his imaginary dance partner close and safe. He smiles, turning his imaginary woman to the left, then right. He closes his eyes and she appears there, touching his chest with hers, her hand in his, their cheeks kissing. Her belly touches his, then her groi...

I lay still and still felt the presence, but neither further, nor closer. I slowly uncurled, hoping that the slowness of my movements would somehow make my attempted escape go unnoticed. My breasts brushed the carpet as I got my arms below me, arching my back as my elbows stretched. I straightened my legs and was about to bend one under me to stand up, when I felt a breath, right by my ear. It smelt of cherry tobacco, the...

It was a time before midnight when I woke up from a window banging open downstairs in my still to-be-tamed country home. It was a dilapidated building, with lots of rot to be replaced, lots of cracks to be repaired. Its location, miles away from people, made it perfect for isolation that my lover Quinn and I were seeking. I looked at my phone - there was still no connection and thus no message from Quinn; he'd had a three...

I wanted to be in her novel, simple. My button was closed, my zipper open. She liked the coldness of metal on her skin. A bent poppy flower tickled her thigh every time her hips went up. She straightened her arms and clenched the grass. Her shoulder blades popped out of her tanned back, like wings. She squeezed hard and caught the rim of my cock with her every move, arched her back, moaned. The poppy danced quicker and qu...

Not the fabric ones that you choose to wear in the street now. No. A different kind. The helmet-type ones with sealed, circular glass eyepieces and a screw-on filter. Rubber ones. The ones transformed from a protection from radioactivity to a legitimate fetishwear. I used to wear masks like that once a week or so. Not for long, for ten minutes at a time. It was a time when being nuked was a real possibility and it was at...

I kiss him on the lips, pressing my breasts into his chest, caressing his cock through his jeans pocket. It is conveniently veering left and I can touch it with my well-trained right hand. I rub it back and forth slowly through the cotton lining of the pocket. He is getting longer, harder, breathing heavier. I worry that the cotton lining is a bit harsh – cocks are so unbelievably soft. He does not seem to mind – this is...