Socialite Stories

The day after I had got home after the dinner party at my in-laws' house, my phone buzzed. It was a message from my father-in-law. Susanna, his wife, had gone to visit her sister; I was, as a result, to come to their house that evening. All arrangements had been made; I just needed to bring an overnight bag. With Charles still away on business, I hopped in my Range Rover to make the hour’s drive. Parking in the sweep of g...

Each year before Christmas, the Chairman of Charles’ firm held a party for the senior management team at his home. The guest list ran to just over a hundred with wives and partners; a number easily accommodated in their sprawling mansion set in 20 acres of parkland. I had met Rex and his current wife, Ingrid, at the previous year’s event. Twice divorced, slightly overweight, but oozing power and influence, and very much t...

Returning from our honeymoon, we settled into married life. Charles commuted to his job in the City. I occupied my time with setting up home, going to the gym, meeting for lunch with girlfriends, and riding out from the livery yard where I kept my horse. Long rides across the rolling countryside were heaven. But as most female riders will tell you, the motion and the constant rub of the saddle is highly arousing. I freque...

I had left the reception to go up to the bedroom and change into my going away outfit. Standing in front of the mirror, I admired myself for one last time in the ivory silk wedding dress, with its fitted bodice and tie-up corset back. The designer dress showed off the swell of my 34DD breasts, slender waist and firm bum. My long blond hair was up with an elegant bun, held with a pearl barrette. I looked every inch the per...

Greetings, pervs, and pervettes. I'm Beth, a twenty-six-year-old, who's wandering aimlessly since graduating from UCLA with a degree in Italian Renaissance Literature. With such a practical degree I knew opportunity would soon come banging on my door replacing the student loan vampires currently camped at my Westwood double-wide. Broke and desperate, my nerves were as frayed as the jeans I've worn during my seven years of...

Marcus woke just before dawn, hunger squirming through his guts, angrily twisting; burrowing deeper like a maggot gnawing away at his rotten core. He stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it in time to vomit the remains of last night’s meal into the sink - thin ropes of bile dragged reluctantly from his body, burning the back of his throat.Placated for now, the hunger retreated and he ran the tap, splashing tepid water...