In a Hole in an Arse there lived a Fockit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet Hole, filled with the ends of turds and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy Hole with nothing about it worth eating or slobbering at: it was a Fockit Hole, and that means comfort. This particular Fockit – What is a Fockit? Fockits are a Tiny People, just small enough to be able to squeeze into and out of a Hole when they need to, and invisible, indee...

The sun has barely risen this wintry Sunday morning, and fog swirls across the path and canal outside the front door of Claire’s Cunt Kitchen. “Brad, shut the blinds, will you?” calls Claire from deep within the bowels of her kitchen. “And turn the screen on, it’s nearly nine!” Bradley is wiping tables in the front room of the café, scrubbing the last of yesterday’s semen stains off the pink Formica tops. Jill has arrived...

This two-part “Christmas special” follows on from the conclusion of Alison Goes to London – but it can also stand alone. It is 2051, and under the “Enlightenment”, Europe is ruled by Pleasure, and love is eschewed. Claire and Bradley have graduated from the Royal Academy of Fucking and, assisted by their friend, up-and-coming anal slut Riley, have set up a fuck-café in Cuntden Market. However, their best friend Alison has...

Braxton leaned over the tub, reaching inside with a crumpled piece of toilet paper. He wiped over the holes of the round silver drain cover, extracting some human hair, along with the remnants of his latest load of jism. Some brown hair and white pearls of semen were on top, but a majority hung intertwined below the drain cover. With one hand, he wrapped most of the scum in the toilet tissue and then used his bare fingers...

She was beautiful, in her own way. She didn’t have that classic beauty that turns heads or commands the attention of a room full of people upon entering. For Connie, it was more the clean poetic beauty, features like those of Jennifer Anston, made exotic by a nature, ineffable allure that played on your imagination for days after a passing glance. She moved like a dancer, possessed of poise and easy purpose. Unlike a danc...

The honeyed one speaks, dripping nectar with every syllable, oozing sweet seductive nothings which captivate me according to her every whim. The puckered one – perhaps no bitch, but certainly too often unkempt and neglected – blows a jealous indignant raspberry. Determined to reconcile the warring sisters, I respond stiffly to their respective summonses, letting each in turn welcome me warmly in. “See, you are both belove...

“Fucking or Non-Fucking?” asked the lady behind the ticket counter. “Fucking, please,” replied Alison confidently. “First Class or Shit Class?” “First, please.” “Two-berth, four-berth, or seat?” “Uh… what’s the difference?” “Well, it’s a long journey, so frankly, if you’re planning on doing any fucking, I would avoid the seat carriages. You can just about give a blowjob, but there’s barely room to spread your legs. Are yo...

Let me start by saying, I am FTM trans. This story is based on my body. Post op top and pre-op bottom. If you don't like the way I refer to my body parts then don't read it. If you don't know what an FTM is, you should look it up before reading this story. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. I can feel the heat and the throbbing of my clit as it starts to swell. It's getting wet. I'm horny again. That's nothing new, I'm always h...

Diana couldn't believe it. That thing she was looking at was semen. Her godchild's semen. She remembered Lauren, her best friend from college. One of the best looking women she'd ever seen. She remembered the four years they had spent together, the wild parties, the good times and the bad ones. She thought about the day she had introduced Lauren to Tim. She remembered their marriage, being asked to be the godmother of the...

It has been a few weeks since Emmy had her way with me at her house. We have a peculiar relationship. We are like the best of friends when out having a drink, as we are now, and then when it comes to sex it is like she turns into a whole other woman and just becomes this wild volcano, erupting lava flow after lava flow of controlling sexual domination. There is no stopping it when you are caught in its path and yet I can’...

Laura sighed, and looked around her, post orgasm. La petit mort was also la petit renaissance, and post climax everything looks different from the moment before. She distinguished more features in the women who had been pleasuring her, and wondered how many centuries they had been around. The fingers vanished beyond the grill, as their owners observed that they had done their magic. The disembodied voice spoke up again. “...

Laura took the ferry back to New Jersey more than an hour later, having walked all the way instead of taking the bus. She’d stopped on the way to get herself a chocolate chip frappe and some water from a Starbucks on Broadway. Chocolate had always been her friend when she was emotionally rocky. Becoming young and attaining a fantasy body did not mean that her habits had budged an inch. That would take more than a magic un...

Storm Clouds Laura stood up after draining her mocha to its chocolate lees. The Japanese girl clicked on the next episode of her anime, while she gave her another polite nod connoting goodbye, tossing her silken black ponytail hither and thither. Laura looked around for the trashcan and spotted it next to the door of the Starbucks. The Indian business boy gulped as Laura’s eyes met his, and then looked away. She got a dis...

Acclimatization The contract looked intimidating, but Laura was determined to do anything to hold on to her current newfound youth. If the Gods were this good, then she was sure that they wouldn’t shower this much goodness for naught or for a caprice of their baser selves. It was thick, and Laura knew that there would be fine print aplenty. She went over it the next several minutes. The devil usually was in the details. I...

Life is good. I’m not making tons of money or creating the most challenging projects, and that is okay, but my marriage is good, although the sex is marital sex. That means I have sex, but it isn’t wild and dangerous, passionate, frequent enough, nor do we do it with as much experimentation or variety as I want. But we still do it, and there is lot’s of it. We have read Open Marriage and talked about some of the possibili...