Esther’s Story free porn video

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CHAPTER ONE

‘It’s a tradition,’ Esther reminded herself as she pulled the box from the top shelf. For twenty-five years, since her son Tommy was just two, she had decorated their house from top to bottom with ghosts, vampires and ghouls of all shapes and sizes. She, herself, would dress as a gypsy and read the cards for children of all ages in the neighborhood. She spent days before the annual event preparing homemade cookies, rice crispies snacks, caramel apples, the works.

But this year, it all seemed too much. Just another reminder of the fact that her son was gone. An IED they said. In a land thousands of miles from their small Texas hometown. A place she knew little about. Somewhere she would never see. It all seemed so unfair. So senseless.

All she had left of him now was a gravestone that she visited almost daily and the flag folded neatly, sealed in a plastic bag. Occasionally, she would receive an email from his sergeant or one of his friends. Men who had shared his live and passion for defending this country. She would laugh or cry, sometimes both, at their stories of Tommy. But the hard truth was she was alone in this world now.

The loud knocking startled her. She almost lost her balance on the small ladder on which she stood. ‘Damn,’ she cursed. ‘I’m coming,’ she yelled as she stepped down. ‘Who the hell can that be?’

She was not expecting anyone this late on a Friday evening. Most of the town would be at the high school. Football was after all the second religion in this part of the world.

Tommy had been the starting quarterback, earning a full scholarship to college for his efforts. It had been a load off her mind. His college fund had been paltry at best. Saving money was hard for a single parent, whose salary as a teacher barely stretched to cover the mortgage, car payments, food and the few extras she could afford to give her only child.

She padded barefoot across the rough wood floors, down the hallway and into the dark living room. She did not bother turning on the table lamp, instead she flipped the switch on the wall that flooded the front porch with light.

Her heart froze in her chest. When it finally restarted, its pace was twice as fast as usual. Its pounding was so loud that she could not hear herself think. Her chest felt as tight as it had that day.

The day when she had opened this same door to find the pastor from the local Methodist church that she occasionally attended over the years and a man adorned in the bright red and blue uniform of the US Marine Corps.

This was not the same Marine. In fact, he was not even wearing a uniform, but his shortly cropped hair and stance would have given him away, even if she did not know him. But she immediately recognized him, she would know this man anywhere.

Staff Sergeant Michael O’Malley. She had seen his face in dozens of photographs that Tommy sent and emailed from Iraq. She could not even begin to count the number of times she read or heard, ‘Sergeant Mike says this or did that.’ So much so that she felt that she knew this man.

But she had never expected to meet him personally.

It was his email that had arrived a couple of days after that fateful visit that had brought her the most comfort. His praise of Tommy’s character, his bravery in the face of combat and his final thoughts of her had touched her aching and broken heart, brought tears to her eyes and given her courage to face the funeral that was just hours away.

Her fingers shook as she fumbled with the door handle. She squared her shoulders and faced the man that was both friend and stranger. ‘Sergeant O’Malley, what brings you to Texas?’ she asked.

The man looked uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, scuffing his boot against the chipping grey paint. ‘Well, Ma’am, I’m sort of taking a tour of this great country of ours. I’m visiting a few old,’ he paused as if uncertain what to say. Esther swore that the pink of his cheeks spread to the very tips of his ears before he finally finished.

‘Old friends I guess. Men, I’ve served with over the years. Or their families, Ma’am. I know that you will be especially busy this time of year,’ he said spreading his hand towards the pumpkins that sat uncut in the corner of the porch. ‘Tommy always talked about the big Halloween party you throw for all the kiddies. I thought maybe you could use an extra pair of hands and a strong back.’

Esther flipped the hook latch on the screen door, pushing it open wide. ‘I’m sorry for my bad manners, Sergeant. Please come in.’ She stepped back as the man passed, motioning for him to take a seat on the coach that sat against the wall. She turned on the lamp that sat next to the couch. Its warm glow filled the room.

‘Thank you, Ma’am. I don’t mean to be any trouble. And I’m real sorry if I caught you at a bad time,’ he said as he took a seat.

Esther swallowed back the pain. How could she explain that every day was a bad time? But instead she simply lied, ‘No, Sergeant, I was just starting to get things ready. I’m afraid I’m a bit behind schedule this year,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘Tommy told us all about the hard work that you put into everything. I know he loved your Halloween, Ma’am.’

The familiar tightness threatened to stop her heart once more as she choked back tears. ‘Can I get you something to drink, Sergeant? An iced tea? Some water? I think I might have a soda in the back of the fridge.’ She sought an escape. A moment to collect herself. Away from this man, this reminder of her son.

‘Some of your famous iced tea would be nice, Ma’am,’ he replied.

Esther beat a hasty retreat to the warmth of the lemon yellow kitchen that stood off of the living room. It seemed suddenly very small, compared to the larger than life man whose presence filled every corner of her living room.

She leaned against the cold porcelain of the sink for a moment. Her eyes filled with tears as she stared out the window at the stars twinkling in the dark Texas sky. She often looked up at those stars and wondered if somewhere out there her son’s spirit looked down on her still. She liked to hope so, even though she had long since given up any religious belief in heaven or hell. Life was hard enough to endure.

She gathered her strength and reached for the cupboard knob, pulling a large glass from the shelf. She turned in the tight confines of the kitchen, opening the freezer door and pulling out a tray of ice.

A couple of tears spilled over the rims of her dark eyes as she brook the ice, the large drops freezing instantly as they dropped onto the frozen rectangles. Placing the tray back in the freezer, she opened the fridge and removed the large glass pitcher half filled with the sweet confection. She hoped it was sweet enough to cover the saltiness of the tears that refused to be checked.

She reached across the counter and grabbed a dish cloth, passing it across her face to dry their residue. She hope that the dim light of the living room would be kind and cover the red, puffiness of her eyes.

But it made no difference. If this man could find the courage to come all this way, then she would find the strength to face him. She gathered as much of that strength as she could muster and turned, heading back into the living room.

His broad back was to her when she entered the living room. He was standing near the old fireplace. He held a silver frame in his large hands. She knew that it was the picture of Tommy’s college graduation. A friend had taken the photograph of the two of them on the proudest day of her life, just days before Tommy had left for basic training.

Esther took a moment to examine the man. He was even more impressive in person than he had been in the photographs. His hair was short still, but its black and silver strands were longer than regulation, she was certain.

She knew that he was taller than
Tommy’s six foot one. But his more mature body had long since lost the lankiness of youth. Broad shoulders tapered to a waistline that while not fat by any means would definitely give a woman something to wrap her arms about.

From this angle, by far his most impressive feature was the way that the denim of his jeans hugged his backside. If a man could have a perfect butt, it was Staff Sergeant Michael O’Malley’s. She smiled. When was the last time she had noticed a man’s butt? A girlish giggle escaped her throat at the thought.

The man turned. ‘I’m sorry, Ma’am. I didn’t mean to pry. It was just that the photos caught my attention. Tommy was a good friend.’

‘He spoke of you often, Sergeant,’ she admitted as she handed him the glass.

‘You too, Ma’am. He was always talking about his mama’s cooking, her garden and her famous iced tea,’ he smiled as he raised the glass to lips that looked way to full. ‘And he was right. It is delicious, Ma’am.’

‘Thank you, Sergeant.’

He took a seat on the sofa and she sat in the chair opposite him. For a moment awkward silence hung in the crisp autumn air.

‘So Sergeant what brings you this way? You said you were travelling the country looking up old friends?’

‘Yes, ma’am. I retired from the Marines a couple of months ago. Since I never married and don’t have any family to speak of, I thought I would travel for a while. The Corps and the men and women I served with were the closest thing to family I ever had, so I thought I would check in on some of them. See how they were doing…and help out a bit if I can.’

Esther’s throat tightened at his words. This man seemed as alone in the world as she was now. ‘How many places have you been so far, Sergeant?’

‘Just a brief stop in East LA, Los Angeles,’ he explained. ‘Most of time has been in Oklahoma, ma’am. My best friend’s daddy was dying.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that Sergeant, but I’m sure that he was glad to have you there to help out.’

He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. ‘Billy died back in ninety-one, ma’am. Desert Storm.’ His fingers traced the drops of water that cascaded down the side of the glass.

‘Oh, I’m sorry I misunderstood.’

His eyes still on the glass, he sat it on a coaster on the table next to him. ‘When we were in basic training, we became like brothers. Since I didn’t have any family, I would spend most holidays with him and his family. When he died, his parents insisted that I keep it up. They said that they had lost one son they weren’t going to lose another one.’

Esther felt the hot tears cascading down her cheeks. She felt the unknown couple’s pain, it was her own. ‘You were lucky to have one another, Sergeant.’

His grey-blue eyes met hers. ‘Yes, ma’am. I was. They were the parents I never had. Miss Lula died about five years ago. Breast cancer. Mister Clyde sold the farm then, because he could no longer work it and there was no one to pass it on to. Billy’s only sister had gotten married and moved to Chicago twenty years ago.’

The man continued to toy with the dew that coated the cold glass. Esther noticed that his knuckles whitened and his voice deepened as he spoke.

‘He moved into one of those assisted living places in Oklahoma City. Until he started to forget things. Then he had to move into a nursing home a couple of years ago.’

She could tell that the experience was still as raw to him as Tommy’s death was with her. Without thought, she reached across the short distance, her mocha colored hand covered his larger one. The chill of the glass that he still held barely registered. The heat of his skin overwhelmed all else.

He looked up. Those pale blue eyes held her gaze for a moment. Pain, loneliness and uncertainty filled their depths. But there was something else as well.

Awareness gripped Esther’s guts like a vice. Her throat tightened until she was barely able to move air through it.

Sexy. Smokey. Strong. Words raced like wildfire across a dry East Texas pine forest, kindling and burning everything in its path.

She was not a loose woman. In all the years since her one mistake as a freshman in college, she could count on one hand the number of men that she had had relations with. And still have a couple of fingers left over.

But none of them had ever affected her, the way this man did.

Hell, she remembered the first pictured she had ever seen of him. Just days after Tommy had arrived in Afghanistan, she had opened the first email since his deployment. He had written of the place, dry and hotter than the worst Texas summer.

He had spoken too of the men with which he served. Especially the non-commissioned officer who as a lowly Lieutenant was his guide into this new world. He had attached a couple of pictures.

One was of him standing outside the tent that was to be his home for a seemingly indefinite period of time. His boyish face grinned back at her as if he were on some holiday rather than risking his life to defend his country.

But when she opened that second picture, Esther had caught her breath. The man standing next to her son could have given that famous Hollywood actor a run for his money, the one who had played the doctor on that television show and now starred in half the movies that came out. She had searched for his name, but Esther had never been a big fan of television or movies.

She far preferred the written word. It might take paragraphs or even the thousand words that the proverb said to convey the same meaning as those pictures but for her the message was always more powerful.

Her love of words was what had led her to become an English teacher. A passion that extended to the volumes of leather and cloth bound journals that gathered dust in boxes under her bed.

But that day, words had failed her. The man, who stared at her from that computer screen, had stolen her breath and captured her heart in a way that she had never experienced.

Over the next eighteen months, there were more pictures and stories galore of this man. Emails that she saved, not just because they came from her beloved son. But because they told of the exploits of a modern hero as large as life as any of the ancient gods and myths that she taught her classes. Ares. Thor. Odysseus. This man was all of them rolled into one…and more.

She had just never in all her born days expected to meet the man in person. Especially after that last email. His words lifting her, giving her wings and courage to face a seemingly impossible task. She had thought it was the end of a chapter. No, it felt more like the end of the book. The end of her life as she knew it.

Over the months, if her dreams were filled with nightmares of smoke and bombs, stifling heat and mournful cries of pain in battles that she could only imagine, they were equally filled with soft caresses and whispered words of passion from an imaginary lover whom she had never met. At times, the dissonance between the two had made Esther fear for her sanity.

Nothing could have ever prepared her for this moment. For meeting the man that had starred in the most erotic fantasies of her life. It was not something she had ever dared imagine. She wanted to pinch herself.

But there was no need. The heat and awareness rising off his touch was shock enough. The unexpected and all too familiar tingles that raced up her arms, leaving a trail of tiny hairs each standing on end, was proof enough.

Esther drew her hand back. She was careful not to do it too quickly even though it felt as if she had touched open wires.

Her eyes dropped and she willed herself to remember that this was nothing more than a friendly visit as he said…he was checking in on his men or their families. She was nothing more than another one of those families, an obligation for this honor bound man.

Finding her voice, she forced words past her lips. ‘I’m sorry, Sergeant. Sorry for your friend and
his family.’ Her voice sounded hallow even to her own ears.

The man drew in a depth breath. She willed herself to do the same. She repeated the ritual of cleansing breaths that had become her salvation over the past months when despair and grief stole her very soul.

He smiled. It did not reach those compelling grey-blue eyes but then again in all the pictures that she had saved on her hard-drive Esther was certain it never had.

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ was his only reply. They drank in silence for a couple of moments. It should have been awkward, but somehow it was not.

After a time, they fell once more in casual conversation. Even though she could not keep her eyes from straying to those broad shoulders or those salt-and-pepper locks that curled just a bit at the ends now that it was longer.

She listened as he told his stories. She was surprised at how easy the man was to talk with. After a while the conversation turned. They shared stories of Tommy. They laughed often. And on more than one occasion, Esther would have sworn that she saw the man wipe moisture from those eyes. She did not even bothered try to hide the tears that occasionally ran down her cheeks.

The clock on the mantle chimed eleven, a reproach to her for losing track of time in their shared joy and pain.

As if reading her mind, the man rose from the coach. ‘I better be going, Ma’am. It’s getting late.’

‘Where are you staying, Sergeant?’

‘I’m pretty basic, Ma’am. For my travels, I bought a tent that I keep tied to the motorcycle. So I usually just look for some quiet spot where I won’t be in nobody’s way.’

Esther paused at his words. The house only had two bedrooms. Hers and the one that had been her son’s. That door was closed. Its walls filled with photographs of him and his college friends. Shelves lining one wall were filled with trophies from his athletic competitions. His clothes still hung in the closet.

It was a shrine that she had been unable to clear out. She rarely even went inside, except on the worst of her days when she curled into a ball clutching the pillow that she swore still held the smell of her baby boy.

She would cry for hours, great gulping sobs that rent her soul until they slipped away to nothing more than hiccups that left her weak and drained. Then she would slip from the safety of this time capsule and go back to face the reality of a world without her Tommy.

For anyone else in this world, she would not even consider it. But somehow she knew in her heart that this man would understand. Would appreciate the honor that she bestowed upon him. Would in turn honor her son’s memory as few others than herself ever could.

With a slight hesitance in her voice she said, ‘I won’t hear of it, Sergeant. You can stay here with us.’

The words slipped out before she could stop herself. Her fist went to her mouth in horror at the slip of words. There was no us…and they both knew that. This time she feared that the tears that had spilled from her eyes so freely these past hours would be more like the sobs that were her nightly lullaby.

His strong hand wrapped about her upper arm. ‘I understand,’ he whispered so low that Esther knew he really did understand. She nodded at his reassurance.

‘Please stay, Sergeant,’ she reiterated her earlier offer.

The man nodded.

‘I’ll grab some fresh sheets and make up the bed in Tommy’s room then,’ she offered.

‘No, Ma’am. This coach here will be just fine. It’s a far sight better than a lot of places I’ve slept over the years and better than a sleeping bag on a chilly night like this.’

Esther looked at the man. A bond of shared pain tightened in her gut. But she just nodded in silent thanks for his gesture of sacrifice. ‘If you’re sure, Sergeant? Then I’ll get some sheets, a pillow and quilt for you.’

‘I’m sure, Ma’am. I’ll be just fine here,’ he smiled.

Esther raced from the room. She clung to the mundane tasks as she noticed that in her race to answer the door earlier she had felt the wooden door to the linen closet open.

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My son Ken was 18 now, and soon got his own apt. and a room mate….Jen. Lynn and I still have visits from them and we stop by their place. Our husbands who had lost interest in sex, got use to Lynn and I, (Julie), spending the night together a lot. My husband and I have a guest house and Lynn I used that to have our ‘sleep over’s in. Her husband was always gone hunting or fishing and was never there on weekends. Our story telling continued and we kept going further with our mutual masturbation....

2 years ago
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My warstory

This story is purely fictional, and if you are under 18 years of age, you are to stop now. My warstory This story begins just before the war. I was a shy, slim boy at almost 18 years, living in a forsterhome for parentless boys, and I wanted to do my part. I had alway been a strange boy, feminine, slim, with something that might look like tits. I was focus for a lot of attension from some boys and teachers, they liked my apperance. Basicly I wanted to get away. So I joint up for...

Humor
3 years ago
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The Rescue of DBStory

Copyright© 2002-2004 by DB. The doorbell rang unexpectedly. I was surfing the web to see if Elf Sternberg (http://www.drizzle.com/~elf/) had posted anything new on his latest AI (what I generally call robot) storyline. Although he recently, publicly referred to my writing as "abusively shallow", he also admits that it has affected him enough to provoke him into writing stores in response, so a lot of good has come from this in unexpected ways. Besides, having Elf as a critic is an...

3 years ago
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Storyline1

When I was about eight, I loved to climb poles and ropes. I discovered that I got this extreme feeling of overwhelming pleasure in my pubic area when I climbed them. Then, I discovered I could duplicate that pleasure with my hand on my pecker. When I was nine, my mother found me jacking off in my bedroom and told me that it was a sin and I would go straight to Hell. She also said that I would go blind if I continued. I thought about it for a time but then decided I would continue until I needed...

3 years ago
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Storyline2

For years, since I was around sixteen, I had the knack of convincing girls, and then women, that I could be trusted not to ever repeat what was revealed to me. This information gathering proved to be very useful over the years. I learned that the female gender needs to vent, and be listened to, their questions answered, but they don't want any advice, so I used this to my advantage. Once the word got passed around that I was a trusted soul with a lot of valuable information and a great...

4 years ago
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Storyline3

I went home, got married and started a family, one every year until we reached six. This was enough for me. My wife originally wanted a dozen but she settled for half a dozen. I had a good job and got promoted quickly, mainly because my personality made me learn everything I could about the company. In eight years, I made it into management in charge of the company's production planning responsibilities. Throughout my working career, I liked to flirt, talk dirty, touch provocatively, and...

4 years ago
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Stiffkey BluesChapter 4 Storyboard

Madeleine Roth, posting under the name of Fatima, was putting the last touches to her daily blog. Eastern Promise, the web site she ran with a number of her friends, took up most of her spare time. She and Krista Collins had founded the site almost three years earlier as way of publishing their fantasies of life in the east, veiled and enslaved as part of some potentate's harem. Over the years they had created a series of stories. They, in turn, had attracted other, like-minded, authors and...

2 years ago
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HouseChapter 5 Storyhour

Evidently, I didn't miss storyhour. Jason was just finishing his breakfast in the hotel dining room. I took a vacant seat at the far end of the counter, by the restaurant front door. One of the "J's" dropped a cup in front of me and filled it. She added a spoon, a small stainless pitcher of real cream and a glass pour jar of sugar, rubbed my head and hurried away. I wonder which one that was? For a town totally isolated by tropical storm flooding, there were sure a lot of people having...

1 year ago
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TG Storytime

TGStorytime! I had this crazy dream where I found a remote control that let me alter the very fabric of time and space. I could have used it to rob banks, bang several of my favorite pornstars at the same time, or really do whatever I wanted. All I wanted to do, though, was turn my penis into a vagina and grow rabbit ears and a fluffy tail. That could mean I’ve been reading too much TGStorytime, a user-contributed library of transgender fiction.TGStorytime.com was established in 2011 by Joe...

Sex Stories Sites
1 year ago
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Storyhub

Hey, this is just the starting point of hopefully a bunch of crazy and erotic stories. Feel free to just skip this part and start by choosing a story path of your liking, wether it might be for reading or adding chapters. We would also like to encourage you to add your own stories, if you like. No matter how short or long, how explicit or tame. We could just end the introduction here, but we'd like to remind you that all characters that take part in any sexual action are grown ups, 18 years or...

1 year ago
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Husband Turned on by Storytime

She then said, “It was Storytime night and that always ends with us having smoking hot sex”. Curious to what that meant I asked, “What is Storytime?” She said, “OMG it is so hot. John loves it when I tell him a sex story from my past or tell him a sex fantasy while I lay next to him and play with his dick. It is such great foreplay and it has really improved our sex life. We both get so horny. You should try it sometime”. This story is about how I discovered a kinky way to turn my husband on.

Married
3 years ago
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Esther

Prolog Dies hier ist mein Erstversuch auf chyoo. Ich hatte diese Geschichte vor Jahren bereits in einigen für diese Thematik einschlägigen Boards angefangen zu posten. Irgendwann habe ich aber den Faden verloren. Insofern ist die von mir geschriebene Geschichte zwar mittlerweile recht lang aber eben auch sehr unfertig. Ich beabsichtige hier Stück für Stück die fertigen Teile reinzustellen, hoffe aber vor allem, dass es für Esther ganz andere Wendungen gibt, als die bisher von mir erdachten.

4 years ago
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Reminiscence Entwining part 2 Storylines

Reminiscence – Entwining ‘You know how I feel about this, you know what I’d like to give you.’ She told him, ever so slowly. Achingly, they had been lying in bed for two hours after they had awoken, just content to talk. The conversation had drifted however, to a more…. Taboo subject. ‘I know how you feel…’ he trailed off, kissing her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist. They were laying on their sides, her backs to him. She wasn’t being cold, she was on the verge of breaking. ‘I’ve been...

2 years ago
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Reminiscence Entwining part 2 Storylines

Reminiscence - Entwining ‘You know how I feel about this, you know what I’d like to give you.’ She told him, ever so slowly. Achingly, they had been lying in bed for two hours after they had awoken, just content to talk. The conversation had drifted however, to a more…. Taboo subject. ‘I know how you feel…’ he trailed off, kissing her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist. They were laying on their sides, her backs to him. She wasn’t being cold, she was on the verge of breaking. ‘I’ve been...

First Time
1 year ago
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The Storyteller

After picking up her coffee, Meara looked around the crowded café for a seat. Every seat seemed to be filled. After looking further, she noticed a table in the corner where a man about her age sat typing on his laptop, and the seat next to him was vacant. Approaching him, she said, "There are no other available seats; would you mind if I join you?" "No, you're welcome to join me," responded Sam. "Just let me finish recording my thought, here, and I'll put this away." "Don't stop on...

4 years ago
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Review this Story

Review this Story Thisstory has been edited by Chksng19. Any errors in grammar, punctuation orspelling are either an intentional part of the story or the result of MadLews mucking about with the text after it was properly edited Authors Notes: This is a work of fiction and all characters are entirely fictional.If you see yourself in this story you are sitting entirely too close tothe monitor. The fictional characters in this story are all at least 18 years old,even Larry. Some may feel the...

3 years ago
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Your own sex story

When i look for sex storys i look for ones that have my interest, i want to know yours so you can get the best enjoyment out of reading my storys. post a comment and tell me want you want in my story, i already have a base idea for a plot but it will keep changing as i add in what you want. also if you want to add a charecter i will take your suggestions. please note that this is still my story and im the writer. thank you and please leave alot of ideas!!! -QOH P.S. if you have any plots...

2 years ago
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A sad depressed and bittersweet story

A sad, depressed and bittersweet story. Disclaimer: All though inspired by a real story, this is fiction. It is a story-taking place in a horrible society where money and money only makes the world going round. Disgusting events according to Danish standard are described and I would wish that we could save the world back from Denmark, so people did not need to go trough such a life, but we can only watch the unjust to happen. The solution has to come from the government on the Philippines....

4 years ago
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RSVP A Halloween Story

All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and...

2 years ago
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Aoife the Queen Maker A Halloween Story

1Aoife, the Queen Maker - A Halloween Storyby The TechnicianHalloween, Romance, Fantasy = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =  The arrow falls; the door opens; the Queen is made.This story explores the connection between the Orionid meteor shower, the ancient Celtic myths which surround Samhain, and the great warrior Queens of ancient Ireland."Aoife, the Queen Maker" is the story the pixies told me when I wanted to write something else. Sometimes I write a story with a theme and plot that I...

3 years ago
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A Second Visit from Saint Michael A Halloween Story

A few of the references in this sequel will make more sense if you have read “A Visit From Saint Michael,” but it does stand totally on its own and can be enjoyed even if you have never read the first story. This story centers around non-consensual pain, humiliation and slavery. If such a premise disturbs you, then I would advise you to skip this story. Or you can skim past those sections and read a very interesting tale involving one of the “old gods” of Mexico and much of South...

2 years ago
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The Garden Bench Backstory

I have seen this lady a couple of times now, as it turned out, always on the 16th of the month, always at 2:30 in the afternoon. There always seemed to be purpose in her visit. Her visage purposeful.On this summers day, she looked so beautiful in her pink summer calf length frock. I looked at my watch and decided to take my break. Life in the gardens for staff could be hard physical work and for me, a young guy on placement from horticultural college, this was my life. It was all I ever wanted...

Masturbation
2 years ago
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Strangers on a Train part 3 Restaurant Shennanigans and a Bit of Backstory

I woke up to the warm pressure of Sofia’s supple skin pressed against my naked body. Did last night really happen? How could this woman be real? It seemed to good to be true. But, it was true, every glorious moment of it. I lay in bed lingering for a moment, taking in Sofia’s scent, nose nuzzled against her graceful neck. The improbable geometry of her body, the physical manifestation of quadratic functions, created a topographic map comprised of rolling hills and valleys beneath the...

4 years ago
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Backstory

Note: I mentioned in ‘The Next Morning’ that it was part of a longer story. Well, here’s the beginning of that story, drenched in the grief of a man who has lost his wife, who wakes up every morning wondering how to go on and then, one day, wakes up on a private island in the South Pacific. He’s comfortable enough. There is a beautiful beach house fitted out with every known amenity (and some that are still unknown). But the grief stays with him. And then, on the first anniversary of her death,...

3 years ago
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I Wish I Had Gone FishingChapter 5 The Backstory

When I crawled to Sally, too weak and sick to walk, I suspected my end was near. It felt like life and energy was ebbing out of me. I thought I was dying, so I panicked! Throwing caution to the wind, the hell with the consequences, like someone parched, I sucked life giving fluids from Sally’s pussy, my fountain of life. Immediately, I began to feel better, stronger. My mind cleared. Sally had been gang raped! What was I swallowing? I remember the damp towel now. Sally must have used the...

4 years ago
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Truck Guy Beach ShowerChapter 3 Backstory

I need some critical history about Erin before I go on. In high school (two classes), nursing school (three classes), and at her first job (at the lunch table) my wife was exposed to some feminist views that were stronger than the mainstream. All preached the same militant tune: “my body, my choice!” Each of the classes spent at least a month looking at fairy tales, traditional stories, literature and popular current authors to find the “subtle chauvinist themes.” The first example they all...

2 years ago
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Baseball Player to Baseball Wife Complete Story

Hazing To the real Gina-I wish there was a Thomas to make your dreams come true. On behalf of your sisters, we always knew that you were wearing our clothes! Lol In 2016 Major League Baseball banned the hazing practice of having new players wear dresses. This story is about a MLB player and his experience with the hazing ritual. Mike Young was living what many American men would consider the ultimate American dream. He was a starting pitcher for the California Seals, MLB newest...

3 years ago
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Wendy8217s erotic story

Ben is a very good friend of mine. We met in scouts when we were younger and became fast friends. As well as all the normal scouting trips, we also would get together during the summers whenever one of our moms was willing to give us a ride across town. Ben went to a private school so weekends and summers were the only times we really had to hang out. Wendy is Ben’s little sister. Wendy was always the cutest little kid. When I first met her she was maybe six years old, and she was always bubbly...

4 years ago
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Karen and Michelles Sad Story

Karen and Michelle?s Sad StoryBy [email protected] remember that this is fantasy and anyone thinking that they should do these things in real life, deserve to be locked up and have the key thrown away and play sissy slut to their cell mate for eternity.  If you are not at least 18 years of age please leave.PrologueStory SynopsisThis is the story of a Mother, Karen, and her daughter, Michelle, who each have a sad and sordid past and how they become the slaves of a spoiled...

4 years ago
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The Professors DaughterPart VBedtime Story

THE PROFESSOR’S DAUGHTER--Part V Bedtime Stories My old professors daughter Stephanie is a just turned 18-year-old knockout. She has cutest face you have ever seen and a slim Korean-Caucasian-mix body with a tight, petite Asian frame. She’s slim, quite tall and athletic (toned by ballet and gymnastics) with a nicely rounded firm ass and small but very firm tits. In my opinion Stephanie’s body is flawless. While her breasts are on the smallish side larger ones might look unnatural on her very...

Straight Sex
1 year ago
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Reading His Story

Part One – Messages I came across his short stories on another fiction website on which I had posted some of my own stories. The one I read first, which I found really sexy, was about a man and a woman on a beach who expose themselves to each other and masturbate. There was also a similar one about two people on a train, and another where two people in a crowded train carriage masturbate each other. He was obviously turned on by the same sort of thing as me, so I sent him a message, which...

Masturbation
4 years ago
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Threesome fun Kerrys Story

At first Kerry and Robert were fairly unambivalent about meeting with me. Men were fairly easy to get hold of on the swinger’s website. What they were looking for was the elusive single female, or other couples. We chatted a few times through the website, sending messages to and fro. They excited me a lot, and I knew they would not be disappointed should they ever decide to meet up with me. However, I was fairly lucky, in that I could at least let them read about what we could do together as a...

Group Sex
4 years ago
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Fictionmania The Case Of The Missing Story

Fictionmania: The case of the missing story. By Danielle J As always any comments or criticism are welcome. My email is [email protected]. This story is dedicated to fearless FM volunteer Alyssa who helped me with this story. Author?s note- This all started because of a missing FM story. I had a wild idea and I am using some of the FM volunteers and Authors for this story. ******** The names have been left the same to protect the innocent. My Name is Joe...

4 years ago
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The Shopping Mall A Jo Cross Story

I'm sitting here in the food court at the Trafford Centre, a shopping mall near Manchester. I'm not going to tell you how I'm dressed or what I've done. Jo's told me I have to keep that as a surprise for a while. She's grinning while I'm typing this, occasionally spinning the screen..... "That's right. For the girl who suggested it. She might get a kick out of what I've had you do," she smiled. "That it was her suggestion chosen." So I'm typing this story quick because all...

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