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Punish Me Again

Erotic fiction inspired by Lee Anne in “Spank 2

Is it really a punishment if the person being spanked enjoys it as much as the one disciplining them? How about if it’s… the same person? When Lee Anne finds her forgotten riding crop, she knows she must have done something bad enough to merit chastisement, even if she can’t quite recall what it was.

Tapping the leather crop against her palm stings just enough to give her a horny thrill. Without hesitation, she obeys the impulse to smack it against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh – where it hurts much more, and gives her much more pleasure, too. Her pussy is throbbing insistently, demanding attention, and she grinds the end of the crop against her panty crotch, feeding her excitement.

A pinch to each of her nipples as she undresses sends sparks of arousal darting to her core, and now she can’t resist fulfilling the urge that’s been calling to her all along, undeniable in its erotic power. On her knees, she spanks her ass cheeks full force, feeling the flesh redden and burn, heat flaring through her.

The sound of each slap turns her on as much as the sensation of mingled pleasure and pain, until with an urgency she can’t contain, she tosses the crop aside and rubs her drenched slot, fingers plunging deeper and deeper. Her pussy needs punishment, and she spanks it harshly, triggering an orgasm that she intensifies with her rapid fingering, prolonging the shivers until she’s utterly satiated. But somehow, she knows it won’t be long before she needs to be disciplined again…

 

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Working Up A Sweat

Erotic fiction inspired by Lady Dee in “Hot Iron 2

It takes work – and good genes – to achieve a physique as impressive as this. But that’s not why Dee spends so many hours at the gym. No, the cute brunette likes to work out because she enjoys the horny buzz it gives her. Energy and adrenaline flooding her body, she feels an orgasm is the perfect climax to every training session.

Usually Dee waits until she gets home before she gives in to the urge to touch herself. But this afternoon there’s nobody else in the weights room, and as she rubs her overheated crotch against the cool metal of one of the weight stack bars, it feels so good. Breathing heavily, she grinds on the pole, tweaking her nipples, thrusting a hand into her skintight gym shorts to feel how wet she’s getting. She glances around, checks there’s nobody to see, as she tugs the shorts down just far enough that she can feel the metal against her bare pussy, her clit throbbing as it makes contact with the cold, hard surface. She can’t stop now; craving more, she pulls her shorts right off and presses her fingers against her soaked slit, strumming her clit, shivering with arousal.

She grabs a bar and lies back on one of the weights benches, sliding her pussy up and down so her plump lips wrap around the bar, smearing it with her cream. Soon the shiny surface is streaked with wetness as her juicy pink folds mash against it. Desperate for penetration, she finds a short bar with a rounded end, and places it against the drenched entrance to her pussy. It slides in easily, the perfect size to fill her slippery groove, so smooth and hard.

She works the cock-substitute in and out with fast, fierce strokes, her fingers a blur on her clit, dimly aware through the haze of her horniness that she could get caught at any moment. Thighs flexing, abs tensing, she rocks up to meet each stroke as she fucks herself furiously, until like a dam bursting, her orgasm engulfs her. It’s only as the waves subside and she grabs her shorts to wipe the creamy residue off the bar that she remembers the CCTV camera in the corner…

 

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Sexual Release

Erotic fiction inspired by Elza A in “Stress Relieved 2

Elza has her own way of relieving stress. She finds that the tighter she’s bound, the more her mind can wander free. That’s why at the end of a long week, she’s hog-tied on the bed, a ball-gag in her mouth. Part of the game is to pretend she’s a captive, helpless, even though deep down she knows her lover has left her restrained loosely enough that she can escape if she wants to.

Struggling, she releases her wrists from their bonds, finding herself flooded with adrenaline and arousal. She unties her ankles, spreading her thighs apart at last, stretching and uncramping them. Her fingers slide into her slick pussy like a knife through butter. She thrusts them in and out rapidly, imagining she must hurry, before her captor returns and catches her in the act. Really, she should get away now, but she’s so unbearably horny she can’t even think about leaving before she makes herself cum.

Gasping with excitement as the intense sensations sweep through her body, she diddles her clit with the palm of one hand, as the fingers of the other plunge into her soaked slot. She turns onto her knees, picturing her jailer returning, too late for her to stop now. Would he pin her down on the bed, she wonders, and shove his hard cock into her from behind, pulling her hair as he power-fucks her, making her beg him to stop… making her beg him to never stop?

Her fingers move faster, deeper; and suddenly she’s cumming, her pussy shuddering around her fingers, sweet release jolting through her. She sighs, stretching out on the bed – and that’s when she hears the sound of the door opening…

 

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Wet Traveler

Erotic fiction inspired by Kate Fresh in “Wet Break 2

The road can be unforgiving to the horny traveler. Landscapes repeat themselves. The mind wanders. Sensitive skin swells and wets with anticipation. Yet the body has no recourse.

On Highway 1, Kate spots a shelter of hope. It’s a cute little restaurant that looks loved and cared for judging from the cute garden in front. The bathroom is tidy enough. It’s even got a bidet.

Kate secures the door. In her leather jacket and wet-look leggings, she’s dressed like a biker, but the heels give her away. Her bangs, bleached white-blonde, hang over her wanting eyes. Her breasts appear ready to burst out of her tank top corset if not for the pretty little bow hanging atop her chest.

All the dirty thoughts she’s conjured up on the road are rushing back. She longs for touch. She’ll take her own. Her hands wander over her breasts and down her body. Her faux leather pants are skintight and she pulls them up snug into her damp crotch. She pries her hand inside to feel how wet she is.

It’s a dreary day. The clouds outside are puffy and gray. One more collision of droplets and the clouds are going to burst.

She’ll beat them to it. A hard rain’s gonna fall.

Something’s been burning a hole in Kate’s jacket pocket. She pulls out a little black cock – travel size – and sucks it wet. She turns her gorgeous ass around and bends over to feel the vibrations over the stitches that cross through the soft spot between her legs. Her pants go down over her knees and the vibrator makes direct contact. When it finally penetrates her, she breaks her silence with a moan.

Kate takes a seat on the edge of the bidet and lifts her legs up, balancing herself as she slips the vibrator through her wet folds. She stuffs it inside herself and pulls up on it to send some good vibes her clit’s way. The vibrator is slick with her juices.

Kate feels something stirring inside her. She squats on the floor, resting her back against the wall. The vibrator hangs inside her for a moment but falls to the floor as she works her clit.

Her juices come out, at first in a dribble. They slowly trickle over her parched pussy lips.

What comes next is more like an explosion. It splatters her black heels with her dew drops. Her excitement peaks as her juices form a puddle on the floor.

She’s still not done.

As her orgasm cycles through, she squirts in rhythm with each exhale of pleasure.

Kate pulls up her pants and washes the vibrator off in the bidet. She exits the bathroom quietly. On her way out, she’s got a little feedback for the owners. It seems the bidet has sprung a leak.

 

About the author: The Junkman is a contributing writer for the MetArt Network, blending his twin passions for erotic storytelling and high-class porn. He shares a range of musings at JunkPixels.com

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Happy Holidays from The Life Erotic!

Happy Holidays from all of us at The Life Erotic.

We hope Santa leaves you something sexy in your stocking, whether you've been naughty or nice - or even, like our gorgeous model Daiga, a little bit of both. 

Season's Greetings, and thanks for sharing so much naughty fun with us this year!

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Soaked Satisfaction

Erotic fiction inspired by Sofia Z in “Scheduled Time 2

Sofia looks so cute, so chilled out as she sits on a park bench reading her newspaper and scrolling through her phone. You’d never guess she’s just killing time before a date… with herself.  

Back home she sets the mood, lighting some candles, pulling up her top to expose her naked breasts, nipples already stiffening with anticipation. But the candles aren’t just to make her feel amorous; this innocent-looking babe hides a kinky secret. Taking one of the scarlet tapers, she tips it so the hot wax drips onto her bare thigh. It sends an immediate shiver of arousal through her, so compelling that she slides her hand into her lace panties to feel the sudden rush of wetness from her pussy.

Soon she’s naked except for her boots, one hand working busily between her spread thighs as the other holds the candle to her breasts, dripping wax over her tender flesh. Her clit swells and throbs, her breath coming in gasps of mingled pleasure and pain. She can’t hold back, grinding the butt of the candle against her slippery pink folds, fingers dancing over her lips. Eager for penetration, she blows out the candle and watches herself in the mirror as she pushes it inside her pussy, jamming it deep, fucking herself with quick strokes until her release comes gushing out to spray the mirror. She looks into her reflection’s eyes as she sucks her sweetness from the candle, her darkest desires satisfied… for now.  

 

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Intense Stimulation

Erotic fiction inspired by Cristin in “Stimulation 2.”

Cristin’s nipples throb steadily from the pinch of the clamps around them. She feels it all the way down to her tender pussy, the hot waves of pleasure-pain that swell and recede, over and over.

She placed the clamps there herself, and she could just as easily remove them, but she finds that she doesn’t want to; the more her nipples pulse and stiffen, the wetter her pussy gets. She gives the chain attached to the clips an experimental tug and it’s as if someone has reached out and tweaked her clit between their finger and thumb. The stab of arousal is irresistible, skewering her with its force.

She slides a hand down to touch her clit and her hips buck up involuntarily from the electric sensation. It’s almost too intense. Tentatively, she tries pulling at the chain with one hand while she strums her clit with the other, but she feels the contractions of an impending orgasm build almost immediately, and that’s not she wants. Her intention is to draw this out as long as she can, until she cums so hard and so long she’ll feel it for days.

Flipping onto her knees, she rocks back with her ass up high so she feels her asshole gape open as she rubs her clit. The clamps and chain hang heavy beneath her, swinging as she rocks back and forth against her fingers, the weight of them dragging at her nipples until her arousal becomes even more excruciating. Her wetness is drenching her fingers now, making them slip and slide around her clit as she grinds on it.

She pushes two fingers into her pussy, a gush of wetness accompanying the sudden stretch of penetration. It’s too much, and she collapses down on her front, the friction of the sheets against her engorged nipples tipping her over the edge. She cums just as long and hard as she’d imagined, humping her fingers frantically, blindly seeking the sweet flood of release.

As she lies there in her post-orgasmic haze, Cristin wonders drowsily how it would feel if she attached the clamps to her clit…

 

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Wide Open

Erotic fiction inspired by Liz Rainbow in “Big Black Cock 2

My girl Liz will do anything I ask her to, especially when it involves her pussy. The bigger they are, the harder she cums, that’s the way it is with her. If it stretches her wide, her smile grows wider.

You can put anything in front of her and she’ll try to fuck it. I have watched her fuck bottles, vegetables, friends and strangers. All I have to do is bring her something or someone and tell her to do her worst and she’ll be all over it.

I bought her something very special the other day, a monstrous black rubber dildo. It was so big it was thicker than her forearm, and longer too. I sent her a message on the way home, telling her to make herself ready because she was in for a treat.

When I got home, there she was, on the couch in a PVC skirt, no panties, and a strappy matching bra. The look of expectation and excitement on her face was priceless. And that was before I’d even taken the cock out.

Damn, but did she squeal when she saw it. I took it out of the bag nice and slow, inch by inch, watching her eyes grow wider until I slammed it down on the coffee table, the rubber sucker attaching it firmly to the top.

Liz purred like a cat and crawled around in front of it, testing it out with her mouth. It was so big she couldn’t get more than the tip between her lips, although she tried her hardest to swallow more. But this didn’t dampen her spirits, it just made her wet between the legs.

She stopped trying to suck it and looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with naughtiness, then stood up and lifted her skirt. Her eyes never left mine as she rubbed her slit, pulling strings of her cream over her clit and up to her mouth, tasting her own ooze.

Then she slowly turned around, keeping her skirt up for me, revealing her fine ass, and lowered her hips down to the cock. With one hand, she reached down to steady the rubber phallus and press it to her pussy. She took the tip between her pussy lips easily, letting go of the long, dark shaft and sliding her body down its length.

I watched her throw her head back, heard the gasp slip from her mouth, and sat down to enjoy the show. Liz didn’t hold back. No nice and easy for this horny slut. She fucked that monster with a hunger she reserved only for the biggest of dicks, thrusting herself down on it, forcing it deep inside her pussy. She pumped herself up and down like a jackhammer, in love with the way it filled her and opened her up.

Then she slowed right down, pushing and pushing, taking every inch, as much as she could handle. Eventually it could go no further, and she wasn’t even halfway along it.

She stood up and plucked it from the table, waved it at me to make it wobble, then sashayed off to the bedroom. I followed, walking in to see her kneeling on the bed, two hands around her ass, gripping it tight while she forced the dildo up her pussy from behind, her moans growing in volume.

That was one hell of a horny sight. I was tempted to pull my own cock out and jerk off onto her asshole, but while I was thinking about it, she rolled over onto her back. Using her elbows to pin her knees back, Liz used one hand to pump the enormous black dildo in and out of her pussy and the other to grope her clit.

Her pussy was stretched as wide as I had ever seen it, each pump in and out rolling her lips back and forth, and I watched transfixed as she fucked herself to a wet, loud orgasm and then just lay there with the big black cock stuck inside her pussy. She didn’t move until it had slid all the way out of her, and that was a long time later, let me tell you.

I’ve since hidden the dildo in the house, with Liz begging me to tell her where it is. I’m not going to tell her until she’s drained my balls at least another three times, but I don’t hear her complaining about that.

 

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Playing With My Food

Erotic fiction inspired by Lola Ash in “How It’s Done 2

I am a kinky girl, no doubt about it. I get off on being freaky, doing things that most other girls would never dare to do and few would even imagine. And I absolutely love to act on impulse – you never know where it might lead you.

Like when I got the urge to go out into the woods with a zucchini I had just bought. It was long, and thicker at one end than the other – damn, it was almost like it had asked me to fuck myself with it!

Sure I could have stayed at home and rode that thing in privacy, but where’s the fun in that?

I went for a walk. Just me, my panties and my new-found friend. My friend didn’t let me get too far along a wet sand road before I heard it calling to me. So I sat down in the dirt and felt its heft. The weight and thickness of it pleased me.

If it was a cock, I would have sucked on it right then, sat in front of it and licked it. So that’s what I did, I licked it and kissed it, even though it was too big to get inside my mouth, a real monster. I got excited thinking about how much it was going to stretch my pussy.

I lay there in the dirt, my ass and legs covered in gritty sand, rubbing that big, thick, hard thing up against my pussy. I got wet fast. Now I wished I would get caught. How would it be to have a couple of guys drive up the road and find me rubbing my clit with this thing? I would have dropped it and got on my knees, ass up high, ready to suck one of them off while the other fucked me hard and fast, doggy style.

But no horny men showed up, it was just me and my zucchini. The more I rubbed it between my lips, the hotter it got, the harder my clit got, and the wetter my pussy got. I was ready to take it inside my pussy.

Damn, it was thick, so thick. I had to push it all the way inside, really slowly, and it stretched me wide from the very first moment it opened my hole. I pushed it deep, as far as I could take it. The feeling was incredible, so good I forgot where I was entirely. I had never had a dick this big in me, although I had fucked myself with plenty of sex toys before.

I fucked my pussy hard, plunging the zuccini deep. I loved the way it opened my pussy up. It stretched me so wide. I pulled it out and drove it right back up inside me, hard, just the way I like to be fucked.

It was so big I couldn’t fuck myself hard enough with it, not until I turned over and got on my knees. I held it steady and bounced up and down on it, and I came like that almost straight away.

You have no idea just how fucking good that felt, sliding on and off that thick, rigid zucchini, my pussy stretched wider than any cock had ever managed, covered in dirt and sand, right there in the middle of the road.

If any guys had shown up then, they’d just have had to watch, because that zucchini was blowing my mind, my orgasm making me collapse in the dirt and lie there panting, exhausted.

Orgasms like that don’t come along every day, and they sure as hell don’t come along at all if you don’t ever act on impulse.

 

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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Charged Orgasm

Erotic fiction inspired by Mary Lin in “The Appointment 2

Re: Casefile 1507

Dear Dean:

Given the fevered interest in potential ethical violations by the university’s sexual research team, I wanted to brief you on the initial findings of my investigation. While rumors have swirled about various sexual deviancies going on within the research department, I am singularly focused on charges by a whistleblower—not one of the sexologists—that a head researcher took advantage of a female patient, whom I call Patient M.

The complaint alleges that Dr. E abused her authority. The instruments of said complaint were a “sharpened No. 2 pencil” that she used aggressively to prompt the undressing of Patient M, and an electrical device through which she “shocked the patient for her own personal enjoyment.”

There is a fair amount we can glean from the video evidence about Patient M’s state of mind when these allegations occurred. However, to provide additional context I would first like to examine the potential motives of Dr. E and give you a proper understanding of how shock treatment can be used in some circles to improve sexual outcomes.

It’s clear to me from Dr. E’s own personal writings that she is deeply infatuated with Patient M. She secretly calls her “Patient Bunny” and writes about her unlike any other patient. At times, she sounds more like an aspiring writer of pulp erotica than a follower of the Hippocratic oath. This is from an entry the day the alleged incident took place:

Bunny wore her sexy librarian glasses today. It was hard to keep my hand from shaking as I pointed my pencil at her top button and down her lab shirt, motioning her to undress. I could see in her eyes that the little temptress knew how much I loved it. She went painstakingly slowly, making me sweat it out before showing me her luscious breasts. She has the hips of a pin-up model. I waited as long as I could—I am an eager beaver—to instruct her to take her panties off. You can tell Bunny loves her body by the impeccable way she grooms herself. Her wispy blonde hair is always perfect without looking fussed over and she hasn’t a trace of pubic hair covering her gloriously naked love parts.

Perhaps most damning of all is Dr. E’s confession that after completing the session she had “soaked through my thick underwear” and needed to find a quiet room to “unload” and “get my mind right.”

Despite these revelations, I would point out that Dr. E volunteered her personal journal, which we didn’t know existed. More importantly, the video shows no evidence of mistreatment, or even differing treatment, of Patient M versus the others. Her lack of tenderness in her initial inspection of Patient M, wearing rubber gloves, is consistent with other patient interactions. Dr. E always has a pencil in hand to jot down observations on her clipboard. For all her patients, she also uses that pencil to direct them to take off their clothes—she is a conductor, after all.

Despite Patient M’s significant jolting during therapy, the frequency of the electrical impulses Dr. E administered was comparable with other patients. In my inspection of more than 50 different videos, I wasn’t able to find one instance in which it seemed that Dr. E’s motives went beyond helping a patient achieve an orgasm.

Patient M knew full well what she was there to do. She agreed to surprisingly straightforward language in the memorandum of understanding. She was submitting to the “experimental use of shock therapy to reclaim my ability to orgasm.” She accepted that the “experiments were to be conducted fully in the nude, at times with obtrusive objects in my vagina or connected to my body.” She waved her right to sue for any damages resulting from “exposure to electrical shocks that could prove harmful to my health.”

It would be easy to discount shock therapy as some misguided relic of science, akin to using leeches to let blood. While maybe not a common treatment within our commonwealth, the transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation (TENS) device used in the test is FDA approved—you can buy similar devices over the counter. The research team has made a convincing case in respected journals that this therapy is simply an amplification of the same electrical impulses our body uses to tell the nerve endings in the brain that we are taking a hug or giving a kiss. Essentially, the electrical impulses reduce the body’s ability to process the sensation of pain, meaning the body can process pleasure quicker and with greater intensity.

I am convinced that the treatments enabled Patient M to have an orgasm. While this ventures beyond my area of expertise, there was clearly a difference in Patient M’s arousal before and after her treatment. After the treatment, her pussy was visibly wet, even on a grainy video, and her labia puffed out of her body. She looked invigorated in a way that belied the disappointment in her face when she masturbated before the treatment and felt nothing.

Dr. E’s conclusions in her journal are much more scientific:

Post-treatment, I performed non-invasive thermographic analysis when she first started to masturbate, just before her orgasm, during her orgasm, and following her orgasm. The pictorial found a warming of the labia during the plateau phase and a warming of the clit during orgasm. This confirms what we found using the photometer last session, which detected a gradual build-up of blood in the vaginal walls over the four stages of Bunny’s sexual response.

If I may say so, if there was any subjugation that occurred in this session, it was the way Patient M surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure after vigorous masturbation. If there was any harassment, it was the way that Patient M—unprompted—climbed onto the chair on her knees and turned away from Dr. E, “propping up a near perfect ass, but for a bunny tail, into the air”—her words, not mine—as she “slid her fingers through her charged pussy.” It would only be a slight exaggeration to say all of this was unfolding at the tip of Dr. E’s tongue.

Within the sciences, there is a longstanding belief that what is observed is often changed as a result of that observation. But can’t we allow for some change to occur—some inner movement—in the observer as well? It wasn’t so easy for Dr. E:

I bounced my legs in rhythm with the circular motion of her fingers over her squishy pussy, doing whatever I could to satisfy the needs of my burning clit without touching myself. I didn’t know how much longer I could last. She was in such a state of vulnerability—her head back and eyes untethered with her lips pinched under her teeth—that I imagined the many things I could do that she would not resist. She spoke in a siren’s tongue, calling me to rip down my shirt and have her suckle my tits until she came. If her spasms from the orgasm—seemingly stronger than her reaction to the electric shocks—had come any later than they did I might have lost my certification.

I commend Dr. E for maintaining her professionalism in the face of such beautiful temptation. Even a dispassionate scientist—or a lawyer—could be forgiven for seeking to address the needs of a patient searching desperately for pleasure.

I confronted Patient M about these charges on the way to her most recent session. I could see the pain form immediately in her eyes. “Don’t you dare,” she said, and then ran off.

I would gladly continue this investigation. However, the overwhelming body of evidence tells me this would be an indulgent waste of our time. I recommend we shut it down before we bring the university further embarrassment.

 

About the author: The Junkman is a contributing writer for the MetArt Network, blending his twin passions for erotic storytelling and high-class porn. He shares a range of musings at JunkPixels.com

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to fanfiction@metart.com. We don't promise to post it in full, but we will pick out the juiciest bits to share! To see more stories and true confessions, check out our free fiction site, MyErotica.com

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