Seven Days free porn video

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Standing anonymous amongst the congregation, he watched as friends and family precariously lowered the rain-drenched coffin into the collapsing grave. Six burly men leaned over the open chasm, striving to maintain balance in the torrential rain, as the coffin slowly disappeared from view a barely audible splatter resonated from beneath as it finally hit its waterlogged bed. All the Pallbearer’s shoes had once gleamed with pride, now they stood caked in mud, housing feet that struggling to maintain a grip on the slippery grass verge.

He could see the look of relief on each of the men’s faces as they straightened up dropping their straps, he suppressed a wry smile as one grimaced with a seized lower back. He always found this part of a funeral darkly comic. The risk of falling in, the pain of a aching back, the look of worry on the Pallbearer’s faces as they carried the coffin to the graveside, struggling with the responsibility of staying balanced whilst preserving a decorum of dignity. Things like these always seemed to help ease the tension felt at a graveside. At least that was how it was for him, looking around the grave at his fellow mourners, he wasn’t so sure.

Thunderous clouds hung heavy in the morning sky, the heavens using their own tears to merge with those of the congregation.

The woman stood close to him, almost side by side. He instantly recognised his Foster Mother – a tall, robust woman he’d not spoken to in years… not since he’d left home under the blackest of clouds. Her strict Catholic beliefs had always gotten in the way of their relationship – his school days had been a living nightmare – but he’d never forget the day she banished him from her house – the day he told her he wanted to marry his Foster Sister.

Her trembling body was sufficient evidence her cries were heading beyond control. Grief had taken this woman and wasn’t going to give her back without a struggle. With her head nestled into her chest, persistent rain cascaded from the brim of her hat. A large black coat entombed the Woman’s traditional Funeral wear, the hem stroking the base of her knees. Her black veil clung to soaking skin, masking her face – it hid her anguish, but the rain cascading down it mirrored her tears. Her sobs reached out to all who stood around the soaking sepulchre, ripping through their hearts. He looked at her with a mixture of pity and sympathy. He wanted to speak to her, say sorry for the past, tell her it was all over, but he couldn’t. Not now, now it was too late – too much had happened.

But perhaps if she knew, she’d understand. It might even help.

He turned away, ashamed, his eyes focusing on the graves crumbling walls, questioning why he was here.

The dead man had ended his life in a car accident not too dissimilar to the one he’d suffered years earlier. He’d survived, the man lying six foot below obviously hadn’t. He’d been walking back from his Girlfriends house, returning to his Wife. Crossing the road, he was oblivious to the approach of the oncoming car. The driver, in such a state of inebriation he’d left pissed far behind, failed to see him emerging from between the parked cars. After being hit at over 50mph, some of his clothing got caught on the bumper, the driver, that far gone he figured he’d hit only a dog, carried on home, ignorant of the extra weight being dragged beneath his feet.

He got quite a shock when he pulled into his driveway a mile later.

The driver called the Ambulance but by that time it was too late. Even if he’d stopped and called the moment he’d ploughed him down, it would’ve been too late. Reports claimed death had been instantaneous.

At least when someone hit him all those years earlier, he’d been thrown from the car before the driver carried on with his journey.

Standing next to his Foster Mother, he thought of these things. Vile images clouded his mind. He saw the dead man being dragged across the floor, the sight that would have met the driver as he emerged from his car. The blood. Always he saw the blood… but something else.

Each time he closed his eyes, the dead man would open his.

He’d been unable to sleep since the accident. He and the Dead Man had been close, close enough to share every secret. But the dead man had practiced things – dark things that he knew now led to his visions. The dead man had told him everything – he knew what was coming. From the first moment he saw those eyes staring back at him – blood tears slipping down a mangled face – he knew. He’d never believed till then – despite all he’d been told and seen – he’d refused to accept the truth. But now it was too late. It would happen today, seven days later.

Even now, he wondered if it really was an accident… or suicide.

The Chaplain finished his sermon, his comforting words of eternal peace lost on the wind. The congregation began to drop items on to the coffin – objects they’d not been able to place in the coffin due to the lack of a viewing… the body had been beyond the skills of even the best embalmer: traditional soil and roses were followed by intimate knick-knacks: CD’s, clothes and finally the deceased’s Wife stepped forward. With the aid of those around her, she bent down dropping a parchment of brown paper, it’s crumpled form masking its relevance. She refused to stand until it’s gentle flight ended with its landing over the brass nameplate. He witnessed none of this -he refused to look up from his feet till all had finished paying their respect. When he felt people around him move away, he stepped forward, wanting to do what was right before it was too late.

Suddenly, it was too late.

No one else around the grave seemed to have heard the scratching coming from inside the coffin.

But he did. He knew.

He stood, frozen with panic. Listening over the rain, he could hear fingernails eagerly scratching into the wooden surface of the lid, it’s occupant desperate to get out. Yet still he didn’t budge. Slowly, the congregation continued to move away, gradually walking back to their cars, ignoring him as he stood over the precipice. Only the deceased’s Wife remained behind, head lowered, her dry eyes transfixed on the dirt smothered coffin, watching the parchment she’d offered as it soaked up the falling rain.

She was his only company but he failed to see her, instead he focused on the centre of the coffin, his eyes bulging as the scraping got louder. He knew what was about to happen but he couldn’t do anything. Fear tightened its grip on his innards, his stomach threatening to release its contents. Cold sweat merged with cool rain, sheathing his pale face, washing past his lips. He tasted salt. He tried to scream but…

He failed to see the Wife move, her departing footsteps lost in the rain.

The scratching stopped. Eventually he began to breathe again, calming himself, trying to return to normal. He’d probably been hearing things, obviously upset at the day’s events. After all, if he’d been able to hear the grating, surely someone else would have, and only he reacted. Feeling relieved at his rational thought, he stood on the edge of the abyss, pleading in a whisper, ‘Rest in Peace…please!’ under his breath. Turning towards the graveyards exit, he was almost knocked back into the open grave by the figure of a woman as she came rushing back to the graveside.

Standing over the edge, she let fly a vicious glob of phlegm, laughing a victorious snort as it splattered over the wet parchment.

He stood there, stunned by all he’d seen, but shocked more so by whom it was… the woman. What the hell was she doing here? He tried approaching her, wanting to speak and find out what was going on, but she ignored his approach, pushing past him as she climbed into her car. He could still hear her laughter as the car pulled off, trying to catch up with the rest of the procession.

The scratc
hing started again. He ran to the side of the grave preparing to climb in, eager to end the incessant noise. Searching around, he tried to find the Gravediggers – wondering if they were preparing to return from their shelter – nothing, the rain was obviously keeping them at bay. He crouched down.

The scratching stopped, his mobile rang.

Scrambling his pockets for it, confusion replaced his fear – why was it on? Surely he’d turned it off before entering the cemetery? His questions seemed irrelevant when he saw the number… he answered, recognising his own voice.

“It’s over.”

That was it. Nothing else.

He stood there looking at the phone, confused. Minutes passed before realisation hit him: It’s over – the waiting is over. Despite it making no sense, it was the only explanation – the woman who pushed passed him, ignoring him. She was the dead man’s Wife… his Wife! He thought he’d been at the Funeral of his Foster Brother – but he hadn’t… it was his own! People had talked about the accident on the approach from the cars to the graveside, he’d overheard them but had paid them little attention, but now, thinking about it, he couldn’t remember anything leading to the moment of passing through the graveyard’s gates. One minute he was walking down the street, the next he’s standing over a collapsing grave in the pouring rain. He’d no recollection of preparing himself for the day’s events, no memory of travelling, dressing, nothing! The accident they’d described was his. He hadn’t survived like he’d originally believed… he’d died.

He couldn’t understand. The dreams, the visions… why was he seeing his Foster Brother’s eyes open from underneath the car’s bumper?

No one had touched, spoke or even acknowledged him at the funeral. He’d figured it was because he had been ostracised by the family, but it wasn’t. It was because he wasn’t there.

Actually, that was wrong, he had been there, standing at the back whilst also… also lying in the coffin.

He’d been a guest at his own funeral. The irony was totally lost on him.

With realisation came anguish. Torturous pain tore through his head, emanating from his mouth: his canines were growing, pushing towards his bottom lip. He realised…

He remembered.

His Wife – his Wife and his Foster Brother had done this. That parchment that she’d thrown into the grave must have been the ancient transcript… the one that told of how to turn the innocent into a vampire without the need of even touching them. His Foster Brother had shown it to him on more than one occasion – he’d seen it so often he felt he could recite the incantation backwards – so he’d known about it, but he’d never believed it. It seemed impossible – unreal. His Foster Brother and supposed ‘friend’ claimed it was a document discovered by the Marquis De Sade and was later taken b Alistair Crowley but at the time, his claims had seemed ludicrous, but now… Up until moments before, he’d believed he was attending the funeral of a Foster child – and he had been – his own – but never this. First he had to deal with the realisation that he was a ghost, but moments later, he’s trying to believe that he’s also a vampire!

Finally, after collapsing on the muddied grass over the edge of the grave, his head in his hands as he tried to hold back the pain, the realisation washed over him. This was her revenge – revenge for the Girlfriend. His Wife obviously knew about his ‘bit on the side’ and certainly knew about the parchment – anyone who knew their Foster Brother knew about the parchment. No doubt she’d been to her Foster Brother, frantic for a solution – for revenge. He could believe it of him – when he wanted to be, his Foster Brother had tendencies of pure evil – but he never expected her hatred to run this deep. He never saw this happening. Thanks to her vindictiveness, his own stupidity and his Foster Brother’s malice, he now had to spend eternity, floating around trying to feed off others. Except he was different. In folk law, vampires were solid, yes they were the dead raised, but they had a form. Standing at the graveside with everyone surrounding him and no one knowing he was there proved he wasn’t like the Nosferatu in the books. An eternity, dying from starvation – it was what the parchment claimed it could give – and now he discovered it to be true. He was a ghost, unseen by living eyes, and a vampire, unable to touch those who could satisfy his everlasting hunger.

He understood now. It was his body trying to get out of the grave, it was his ‘inner soul’ that told him it was over. The manifestation that stood over the chasm was his trapped ‘outer soul’, an entity unable to touch, taste. Love.

He had to get his body out of the coffin – it was his only chance of becoming solid again! His souls and his body had to become one once more.

Jumping into the grave, he lost balance and landed awkwardly, his right foot slipping down the side pushing the parchment and personal effects into the water beneath his coffin, his left leg collapsing fro underneath him and sending his back crashing into the coffin’s apex. Lying there, he heard the approach of the Gravediggers as they made their way to the graveside, eager to make the most of the oncoming dry spell and conceal the nightmare he was stuck in. He had to act fast. Struggling to steady himself on the wet shell, he turned and bent down to pull at the lid, concentrating on the right hand corner nearest the head.

His hands fell through the coffin, touching the body’s shoulders inside. He was transparent! Cursing his stupidity, (after all, he was a ghost) he prepared to slip into the coffin, merging his soul with his carcass.

As the rain finally passed, the sun struggled to reveal itself from behind dissipating black clouds.

The Gravediggers picked up their shovels, their days work about to commence.

For a moment he stared at himself, face to face, shocked b what he saw, but recognising the scars from his dreams. Carefully, he turned himself towards the inside of the coffin lid so he could simply ‘fall’ into his body. The smell was repulsive – forcing him to gag – but the claustrophobia was worse. As he began to descend into his body, an intense fire burned behind his eyes, a pain only surpassed by his growing teeth erupted from his head… his ironic thoughts were of wishing death would be quick… within seconds, it was over… Collapsing into his body and gathering his breath, witnessing his dead chest rise and fall with his breaths, he used his remaining dead eye to study his surroundings – he was entombed in a timber shroud. Looking at the wood, he felt the fear rise in his throat – he saw the walls getting closer, suffocating him, crushing him. He could taste sulphur in the air, scorching his lungs as it entered his soul. The coffin was trying to kill him! His mind was closing in, collapsing as panic took hold. With sudden realisation, he knew had to get out. He desperately had to get out of this nightmare and release his soul from the suffocation – but the thought of not being able to resolve his horrors brought him back round. He calmed down, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. His body was dead but it had moved before, calling to him, and now that his soul was joined, it would move again. He directed his energies on the scorched timber, concentrating, focusing on the scratches, and using them as his point of exit.

The gentle thud of soil hitting wood inches from his face told him the Gravediggers had started.

He would be seen but he didn’t care – he had to get out. His Wife had to pay for doing this to him… but most importantly, so must his Foster Brother. He dug his nails deeper into the woods, intensifying his efforts, using his anger and hatred for motivation.

Above him, the Gravediggers increased their pace.

Using the sounds if th
e soil landing directly in front of him as motivation, he increased his pace to match and then beat that of the Gravediggers… within seconds, his finger was through. He could feel the dampness of the fresh soil encompassing the coffin cooling his digit. Feverishly he pulled at the wood, inserting more fingers through the gap, pushing the moist soil away. He could here the shocked screams from the Gravediggers when the saw the earth moving unassisted, he laughed as he heard their shovels being thrown on the coffin, their aim hopelessly off target. Pulling aside more soil, he listened to their footsteps fade into the distance as they ran for help – he didn’t care, he reasoned he’d be long gone by the time they returned. He pushed his hand through, moving the soil, his skin tasting the cool air.

Immense pain like he’d never felt before tore through his body, it’s epicentres in his hand, but also in his stomach, beneath the escape hole he’d created. All thoughts left him as he screamed from the agony he was enduring. Frantically he scratched at the coffin, desperate for a release from the pain yet not knowing where it would come from, but it was no good – sunlight tore a hole into his body.

In his efforts to remove his body from the coffin, he’d been ignorant of the fact that he was a vampire. Oblivious to the fact that sunlight would kill him.

As his decomposing body died, he tried to release his soul – quickly sink into the earth below – or even jump up into the killing air – and live an unknown life of emptiness, but the sun’s rays entrapped him. Somehow, the warmth and shards of sunlight encased his soul inside a rotting shell. For the second time in seven days, he was dying.

As his withering body slowly turned to dust, the rays of the sun acted like knifes, slicing his body into thousands – even millions – of pieces. Before a new death took him, he thought of his Wife… he still loved her, despite all of this, he still couldn’t allow his hatred to destroy all they had gone through together. But there was something else…

Deep down he knew he’d deserved this, he knew this was his fate. Despite his promises, he’d hurt her on more than one occasion and with more methods than just ‘other women’. Her revenge had been the sweetest.

His last sorrowful thoughts died as his soul dissolved into the pile of dust that had once been his bones.

V

She stood on the edge of the grave, silent, impassive.

The wind slowly brushed past her, gently moving her clothes as it made its way into the tomb, lifting the grey dust and carrying it through the morning air. She felt nothing. She’d expected to feel some sort of satisfaction, pleasure or contentment… but no – nothing. No regret, no joy, no sadness. Her husband was dead, her revenge complete. So what? It had been seven days – seven long days. Days in which her supposedly loving Foster Brother had put her through every indignity imagined just so she could get that parchment to work. Just so she could try and restore some of the self-esteem her Husband had stolen from her. He’d promised her the world, and gave her nothing. Separated her from her family so they could be together then subsequently humiliated her with his various affairs. She’s put up with so much for so long and perhaps that would still have been the case… if he hadn’t been sleeping with her Sister – her REAL Sister – a girl she’d not spoken to in years but a relationship he’d managed to destroy in minutes. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t blame her estranged relative, she didn’t know him… at least not the real him. He’d repeatedly proven himself over the years as a ladies man with a predatory streak, but even her newly discovered Sister was something new for him. She had to stop him before it got too much. That was why she paid to have him run over: pity the stupid bastard driving the car didn’t think to do it sober, but she’d paid him through too many contacts for the ‘accident’ to get back to her. She was safe, no body knew, not even her precious Foster Brother.

And now it was over.

Her husband’s dust floated around her, purposely avoiding her hair and clothes. She turned and slowly made her way back to the car – somewhere in the distance she could hear his voice.

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I’m afraid these two are still stuck in a present-day holding pattern. I’ve given you a dream sequence flashback (the third section, to avoid any confusion) to make up for it! In case you’ve forgotten, they’re both nineteen during the flashback, so there’s no underage activity. ———————- Alessandro shook his head in disbelief. Maisie was kneeling next to a strawberry plant halfway down a row, her hand hovering in mid-air as she stared off into space. She hadn’t noticed him, even though he’d...

4 years ago
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Seven Wishes

As usual, this is a story containing graphic sexual content. If you are not legally allowed to view such a story, don't download it, read it, touch it, lick it, eat it, burn it, use it for toilet paper, or even stand near it. Permission is hereby given to archive this story on any site so long as this disclaimer is attached, no fee is charged, and I am credited as the author (I've actually gotten hate mail for having claimed to write my own stories, because other people have made...

2 years ago
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Seven Brides for One Coyote

SEVEN BRIDES FOR ONE COYOTE, or CATCH THE GIRLS AND MAKE THEM CRY By C Part I One day, Coyote was passing through the town of Tumbleweed, when he decidedto call on his old friend, Marshal Matt Basterson. Basterson's headquartersabutted on the town square. Its windows gave an excellent view of the courthouse,across the square, and the town gallows, right in the middle. While he satin Basterson's waiting room, Coyote looked out toward the gallows, but wasdisappointed to see that nothing was...

3 years ago
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Seven Year Itch 8211 Part 1

My friend and I were sitting in the Park hotel’s coffee shop on a busy street in Kolkata. We noticed a smart young man watching porn about the seven year itch while waiting for food along with his sexy female companion. He could’ve bedded the beautiful woman if he so desired, yet he’d found time for porn. “Why do we need porn?” asked my friend earnestly. “Because it’s one thing to make love and a totally different perspective, to see her in action,” I replied with conviction. “So you are...

4 years ago
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Seven Year Wife

Thanks to the Hip and Knee doctor for editing assistance. The Taco Bell was within walking distance from my house. Not too many people live beside a shopping center, but the rent was cheap. Every night I made the trip and every night I ordered the same thing; a burrito and a large drink. It was my excuse for a diet. I was always satisfied with it, because it cost less than three dollars, and that meant I could put more money away. I have been saving all the money that I could for the last six...

4 years ago
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Seven OaksChapter 6 Girls In Uniform

The trip to the station was sadly a short one. Rachel was a petite, young blonde with an athletic build. She was slim and solid, but soft in all the right spots. The bulletproof vest did nothing for her figure, but I could see beyond that to the womanly form underneath. She was fresh out of the academy and was assigned the call only to see how she would react to a naked man on the highway call. In my opinion she had passed with high marks. She was kind, and more importantly she had...

3 years ago
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Seven OaksChapter 9 Going Home

The reception at the Sheriffs Office was a chilly one. Rachel and Roxanne met me outside in front of two more deputies. I was a suspected murderer who had left with their boss and returned alone, driving his car. "Where's the Sheriff? What happened? Why didn't he bring you back?" "Wait a minute, one question at a time. You guys are getting worked up over nothing. The Sheriff is fine. His wife is fine. They are as happy as pigs in slop. I drove his car back because they were busy and I...

4 years ago
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Sweet Tuesdays

Every Tuesday morning at nine minutes past ten Kay says to her husband, ‘I’m off to town Tom.’ Tom always replies, ‘Have a nice time dear,’ then he laughs and says, ‘Give him my best wishes.’ Kay smiles and replies, ‘I will dear,’ and then leaving the house she makes her way to the bus stop and catches the nine fifteen bus into the CBD. Had Tom known it his joking remark about giving an make-believe lover his best wishes was closer to the truth than he knew, but to explain that and tell...

2 years ago
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Seven Year Itch

I wasn’t away from home much and so had left my husband of seven years instructions on how not to burn his dinner. Although he probably would anyway and end up getting a takeout or something. I wasn’t really too worried about him. I knew he would be pleased to have a night by himself, surfing as much porn as he could. Like he thinks I don’t know what he gets up to! I was just annoyed that I would have to miss a gym session really. For the first time in my life, I finally had the body...

3 years ago
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Seven Years Since The Motel Ch 02

This is an edited version of the original chapter. I’ve fixed the grammatical errors and made minor alterations to the text. Since I resisted making major changes, the chapter is still quite wordy. ——————– Maisie Barnes rolled over in her lumpy twin bed and squinted at the clock on the old bedside table. 5:00 am. She pulled a pillow over her head and groaned, hoping to stop the morning’s first rays of sunshine from reaching her eyes. Her head hurt way too much for light right now. Stupid...

2 years ago
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Seven Years Since The Motel

This is an edited version of the original chapter. I made quite a few minor alterations to the text, but resisted making major changes. As a result, the chapter is still rather wordy in places. I should also warn you that there is a long build up over the story (hey, it’s romance), so no sex in this installment. ——————– Alessandro drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair as he glanced around. Flat panel TVs, leather armchairs, and oversized, modern light fixtures dominated the room....

3 years ago
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Seven Years Since The Motel Ch 05

There’s another dream in the middle of this chapter. I swear there won’t be another after this chapter, but I had to give Maisie her share of flashback time. ,) —————————————- Maisie slid the last of the empty produce crates into the back of the pickup truck. She huffed out a long breath as she closed her eyes and wiped her brow on her sleeve. She was exhausted, the summer sun was bright and hot, and her long day had been full of chores on the farm and customers at the Wednesday farmers’...

2 years ago
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Seven Year Itch

Introduction: This is my first story. I have dramatised it a bit but its pretty much based on real experiences I have had. Let me know what you think. I had a nine o clock meeting with a customer four hours drive away, so my boss had let me drive down on the Thursday afternoon and because the meeting could easily run into five or six hours, he said he wasnt expecting me back on the Friday. I wasnt away from home much and so had left my husband of seven years instructions on how not to burn his...

2 years ago
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Seven Pills

Seven Pills By Ida N. Tidy Copyright 2002 Jason cautiously entered the abandoned warehouse. He had followed the car here. The car held his girlfriend of two years, and it held her against her will. He was creeping along a catwalk when he heard a voice call out. "We know you are here, if you would like to negotiate, I would suggest you come out now." Jason carefully weighed his options; he had no weapons beyond a tire iron in his hand. They had guns. He was alone; they had...

2 years ago
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Seven Minutes in Heaven

This is purely a work of fiction about two 18/19 year olds...It is the summer before our first year of college and we are home alone at his house. My mom works from home, but his place will be empty until his sister gets home from her summer internship. We have been playing truth or dare since we got up this morning. However, as close c***dhood friends there are few questions to ask when we keep no secrets. Our game has purely consisted of dares. Early on, I was dared to put on women's...

4 years ago
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Seven Deadly Sins Pride

To be an incubus in this modern era is exceedingly easy. Declan St. Clare, a high level sex demon, needed to get his required amount of souls for the century, and by looking at the log of sinners in front of him, it was going to be simple. He would be able to get all seven off one list. Lifting his 6'5” frame from his computer chair, he opted to walk into his bathroom, rather than teleport there. Contrary to popular belief, he was able to see his reflection in the mirror. It's funny that most...

BDSM
4 years ago
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Seven Short Stories of Sodomy and Sadism

Author's NoteNot every story is meant to be an epic.  Sometimes the core of a story, the parts that really matter, only needs a single scene or two to be complete, and to add anything more would diminish the whole.This is a collection of such tales.  Seven vignettes, each of them generally dark and unpleasant.  One of them rhymes.  They are all small and self contained, and hopefully you will find them to your taste.  Enjoy! ContentsSmile (S01) - A kidnapper chats with his latest prize. Story...

3 years ago
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Seven Year Itch

Jason kissed Veronica on the cheek and stroked her hair.  Then whispered in her ear "I love you".  She whispered back "I love you too".  She told him that she would be meeting a couple of friends for drinks after work.  Jason never minded when she went out with her friends he just winked and drove away.  She watched him as he drove away and thought is this how this is going to be ever day for the rest of my life?  What am I missing? She could get this off her mind while she was getting ready...

Wife Lovers
2 years ago
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Seven Swats Game

Seven Swats Game   Seven Swats Game  By Wolff  ? 2006 Wolfwerks.    The natural born brat asked for it. Nike was running down the corridor propelled by her muscular legs.? She had on her tennis whites, sneakers and short socks, and her racket in a sports bag. She stopped by her locker and grabbed a fur paddle that was waiting for her.  Tennis was good. She won and now she was on her way for the real reward and the one who was willing to mette it out to her.   Nike offered a paddle to the Wolf.?...

3 years ago
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Seven Shots

I got seven shots before they noticed me. David jumped off the bed yelling “Give that fucking camera.” I pulled the 1911A1 that was tucked in my pants behind me and pointed it at him. He stopped, sneered and said: “You don’t have the balls.” I pointed the automatic at his left knee and pulled the trigger. He fell screaming to the floor. “Jesus Christ” my father said. “You shot your own brother?” “The only reason I’m not going to shoot you is because I don’t want to deprive mom of the...

3 years ago
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Seven Wonders of the WorldChapter 3 Wat Kanidoo

I arrived in Bangkok in time for lunch. Seven-hour flight, but five hours by the clock. I was exhausted because I’d stayed up all night writing. My entire time in Odawara had been spent without even looking at my computer. I was thankful it had enough charge to boot. Fortunately, Japan uses the same power connections as Europe and I had the right adapter, so the computer was charged, even if I wasn’t. I wrote all about Ani Mai and what I felt, then realized I was probably reading much more...

2 years ago
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Seven OaksChapter 8 Justice

Sheriff David Chamese returned to the cell where I had willingly waited while the EMT's removed the deputies and said," Open holding one!" The lock popped and he pulled the heavy door open. He motioned for me to follow him as he turned and walked away. If he was afraid of me it didn't show. He led me to his office and pointed to a chair in front of his desk. He entered a large closet and returned carrying a plaster cast of a footprint and some Polaroids. He dropped the cast and the...

3 years ago
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Seven Case Studies Seven Enabling MothersChapter 2

Case Study # 3: Katie T. Each “Case Study” involves something illegal. Incest of course. Underage sex. Juvenile corruption. But legality is sometimes less important than the health and welfare of the participants. It’s sometimes a tightrope, sometimes a messy quandary. Underage sex can be a fuzzy concept. Age of consent laws vary from locale to locale. A 14 year old can be more mature, more ready for sex than a 21 year old. The impact of legal prosecution is even more murky. The justice...

4 years ago
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Seven Case Studies Seven Enabling MothersChapter 3

Case Study # 6: Juanita M. At a nice race track like Del Mar the tote board could look intrusive, out of place. It wasn’t though, gambling is the soul of the venture. My professional tote board is the fee I charge for my services. Fees are necessary to make a living, but they also establish my value, my validity, to my clients. And to insurance providers. Insurance covers most of my costs for many patients. Several of whom were similar to race track patrons. A two-minute thrill at the track...

2 years ago
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Wild Wednesdays

A couple in the swinging lifestyle make their weekly pilgramage to a private club. Wednesdays have been punctuated by a young woman who puts on quite a show in one of the anything-goes areas. Caitlyn's husband is in the crowd of onlookers while she sits alone in the public area. She's not alone for long.Wild Wednesdays“Mind if I sit down?” asked the black man with the muscular build.“What, you’re not going to join the others?” she said. He looked toward the wide doorway that led into the back...

3 years ago
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Girl Fridays

Girl Friday By Gingerfred Man Chapter One - Casual day Lemon or baby blue? Perhaps pink? We all know what they say about girls who wear black panties, don't we? [Giggle] Fridays can be such a challenge. I mean, I had been wearing panties every day since my boss, Mr. Everhard's, "Girl Fridays" decree six weeks ago. But on Fridays, besides panties, I wore the miniskirt, stockings, garter belt and big heels to work too. On Monday through Thursday, when I'm wearing icky boys'...

2 years ago
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Girl Fridays

Girl Fridays Belladonna The car came to a stop as Vern Lowry pressed down the brake and put the vehicle in park. He pulled off his black sandals and slipped his black, opaque tights covered feet into the pair of 3? inch high heeled pumps he had placed into his pocketbook that morning. Vern smiled at the shoes as he buckled their thin ankle straps. Once he finished buckling the shoes, Vern lifted his wife's black aviator sunglasses off his nose and checked his appearance one...

3 years ago
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Alexa Chapter 34 Mondays

Alexa Chapter 34: Mondays God, I hate Mondays! I always have. I think everyone does. Getting back into the grind of everyday life was never any fun, but today was even worse. The events of the previous night cast a pall over not only my feelings but most of the state. Sure, the Vikings lost yet another NFC Championship, we were used to it. But the way they lost was so unlike the way the team had played all season was confounding. Add to that the sheer joy that had been created...

4 years ago
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I love Fridays

I love Fridays. Fridays I start drinking in the late afternoon. I’m not an alcoholic, it’s just that I need to unwind once a week after chasing my two kids and husband, and doing all the housework. We make a point to get the kids out of the house on Fridays. My husband usually drops my daughter at my parents’ and we give enough money to Jason, my son who is a high-schooler, for going to the movies or whatever.Then my husband comes home and we have drunk, wild sex.This Friday was different...

Reluctance
4 years ago
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Foot Fetish Fridays

I was so excited! Who would have ever thought that only one month after graduating from college, I would land such a great job? Even though my starting position was to be one of the receptionists at a growing internet fashion company, it was still such a lucky break for a twenty-two-year-old to get her foot in the door. After a week of training, I was ready to report and when I entered the large building, it was so modern and revolutionary. Huge flat screen computers filled the tables and very...

Fetish
2 years ago
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Mistress on Tuesdays

mrs_rchl1::kissychickzdigmeyup:hi!mrs_rchl1:hey there!mrs_rchl1:im so glad i caught you againchickzdigmeyup:me toomrs_rchl1:ive been so busy with work its hard for me to find time to get on heremrs_rchl1:spread those legschickzdigmeyup:can you see me?mrs_rchl1:anyone in the room with you or are you alone?mrs_rchl1:yeschickzdigmeyup:i'm alonemrs_rchl1:cant hear you thoughmrs_rchl1:rub yourself through those jeansmrs_rchl1:get into itmrs_rchl1:moanmrs_rchl1:fuckmrs_rchl1:are you all alone in the...

4 years ago
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Thursdays

I checked the time on my phone. It read "3:56" just as my computer made that shutdown noise. Perfect. I'd worked through lunch just to achieve this. I pulled on my jacket, keeping the phone in one hand and texted while one of my fellow escapees pressed the down button. "You home?" I sent, my phone chirped as it sent the message and the elevator binged its arrival. I'd have to wait for the reply -- the elevator blocked my service. But I could wait, I was in an awesome mood, because it was...

2 years ago
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Skinnydipping Sundays

(A tryst of fate series: #2 brought to you by Dr. MaxMon) Skinny-dipping Sundays, by MaxMon The doorbell rang again and Peter answered it dressed in Hawaiian shorts with a beer in his hand. As he opened the door splashes were heard from the pool out back, along with faint yells and playful conversation from the small group of partygoers who had already arrived late in the morning. Greg and Brenda greeted Peter at the door with smiles and happy feelings since they had grown accustomed to each...

2 years ago
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SEVEN MONTHS WITH MARIE PART SIX THE CHALLENGE

Seven Months With Marie- Part Six: “The Challenge” Fall 2004 Marie and I were approaching the five month mark. She was the kinkiest girl I had ever met by far and away. Our first sexual encounter had been a threesome with our co-worker (and my land-lady/next door neighbor) Karen. It had started as a joke, and Karen had started filming me walking around her house drunk and naked. Then things got heated and the whole thing ended up on tape. After that Marie and I were together...

4 years ago
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SEVEN MONTHS WITH MARIE PART FIVE The Hurricane

Seven Months With Marie- Part Five: “The Hurricane” Fall 2004 It had been a month since two of my good friends and I gang banged Marie (see previous story). She was so grateful for me returning the ‘group sex’ favor that our sex life was getting more and more wild and uninhibited. Stopping by Michelle’s house for a threesome had just about become a weekly thing. Our plans for the upcoming weekend however would be drastically different. The news stations had cried wolf so many...

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