It all started one morning on my way to the express elevators to the 60th-floor-and-up. I was marveling at the bountiful ass of one of the secretaries for the firm that manages the tower (whom I knew from the WhatsApp groups for tower employees; her username was 'BigWoman') as I followed her into the building and through the lobby. She was wearing heels and tight, knit slacks. I was so engrossed in fantasizing about hot-d...

Truisms abound. They are meant to be insightful but are often plain common sense, more obvious than astute. Such a truism came to mind with an unexpected experience I had a few years ago. When I think back to what transpired this truism replays itself in my mind: Life is full of surprises. About fifteen years ago my then dating partner introduced me to a small circle of friends. Of the four new acquaintances, one was name...

Georgina was a computer nerd but was also authoritative and dominant in any of her relationships. She was just nineteen-years-old, but never took any nonsense from anyone, so as well as being a self-styled vigilante she had a particular panache for spanking her boyfriends and girlfriends. Yesterday, at the supermarket, she was happily putting food in her trolley when a man, who looked about thirty-years-old, barged in fro...

William’s elevator rides with Jocelyn were always special, especially since she had learned hypnosis. Twenty-seven floors separated them from their destination. She never needed that many. On the first floor, she undid her blouse to reveal a diamond necklace... On the second floor, the necklace swung left and right... On the sixth floor, William’s eyes got heavier and heavier... On the eighth floor, she commanded him to s...

In the week following that problematic Circle Line tour, my attempt to play hard-to-get failed. Margery had easily seduced me – more than once – on the following Thursday. I knew I was folding under the pressure of her charms. As a seventeen-year-old guy, and not a particularly physically impressive one at that, I was getting more sexual stuff than I had ever imagined I’d have at that point in my life. I doubted that many...

In June 1975 I briefly – for a single afternoon – was with a woman I still think of as “the hippie girl.” And no, it was not a conventional one-day stand. She didn’t refer to herself by that term. I doubt there had ever been a large number of young people who truly were “hippies” or in the New Left as a dedicated way of life. What there had been was a wide dissemination of those ideas to people who dropped in and out or w...

In the spring of 1981, when I was nineteen, a woman named Miriam Roston moved into my building. At least I initially assumed that she was a woman. In New York, people generally were non-judgmental and left other people alone. But this was in the East Bronx, not Manhattan, and after about a month, my family started speculating about her. They used terms like “tranny” and “shemale” to describe her, although they didn’t exac...

It was Wednesday morning, and I was excited. Wednesdays are my day to be a nasty slut. My husband leaves for work early, and my two teenagers are out the door by seven A.M. Now I have a few hours to prepare for my date, so to speak. My name is Aubrey, and I have a secret I have only shared with my lovers. At thirty-seven, I am a devoted cock worshipper. I love cocks and will suck a cock whenever I can. My husband loves th...

Oscar Coleman had been a kind and honest man. Faithful to his lovely wife, Gertrude, for nearly fifty-two years, he’d experienced the ebb and flow that was their sex life with gentlemanly grace. While time spent in the bedroom had dwindled from twice weekly early on in their marriage to non-existent in the latter years, he remained true to his vows until death do they part. Oscar spent months mourning the loss of his best...

The oil lamp, with its tall glass chimney, emitted a soft glow in the living room of 13 Roseberry Street in the Sydney suburb of Balmain. Afternoon had given way to evening, and the balmy air of the Australian summer wafted through the open window. Leonard rose from his chair and strolled into the small courtyard garden at the back of their house where his sweetheart, Edith, sat at a small table, gazing up at the orange s...

The January of 1984 was a time that lingers in my memory. I was twenty-one years old and hadn’t long been working for the company, but I was getting to know some of my co-workers quite well. Most were young, single and outgoing, with flirting being commonplace. The office Christmas party only a few days previously had opened my eyes to the kind of people I shared the workplace with. There was much festive banter, kissing,...