Make Me Feel Something

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I wanted to feel something. Anything. It was why I went there that night, to the bar on the corner that I’d frequented so many times before, but I’m not sure why. Same beer, same music, same regulars; every night, the same people looking for the same thing – something different, in the same place.

He was different, though. I’d never seen his tattoos, his defined arms, his black hair contrasted against ice blue eyes. He was the only thing different in that entire place. We barely needed words; one drink, a brush of the arm, a grab of the ass, and here we are, with his hands around my wrists, pinned above my head, against his bedroom wall and thrusting into me with his kiss.

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Jake & Becky: A High School Reunion

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I’ve been looking for a reason to write more erotica, and Sinful Press provided me with the perfect excuse in this Eroticon 2017 writing competition! The winner receives a ticket to Eroticon 2017, which I really, really want to attend, so here’s hoping I can make you and the judges hot and bothered enough to get me there!

The story is inspired by the above photograph, provided by Molly’s Daily Kiss, and features one of my favourite turn-ons: nostalgia. Enjoy!

It was a wistful, drunken moment following an uneventful high school reunion that brought me to this old haunt of an adolescent fling. Ten years ago, under this bridge was a favourite hangout for Jake & I during my last summer in town; I’d throw stones into the passing river, while he would tag the nearby pillars and walls with whatever crass logo he’d concocted that week.

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Good Whore: That Time I Put On A Show

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We’d been only once before, to the local sex club down the road. A typical Thursday night had turned into a steamy adventure and before we knew it, we had arrived at a place with enough sexual energy to be palpable, with enough sex toys to turn any man in that place a vermillion shade of red.

Checking into a locker room, I got undressed into my red bra and panties as Patrick stripped down to his boxer briefs, already tight as we listened to moans and the sexual energy building from the next room. We grabbed a drink and took a lap; men walked around in towels, while women were either topless or adorned in skimpy lingerie. Off of a hallway there were individual rooms, each with a rope across for observers, and a door to decide when viewing time was over. Over in the corner, several men stood around an ottoman in the dungeon, taking turns with a single woman as she moaned under the cock of another man. We sat watching for a few minutes, wishing we were the ones being gangbanged, but moved along to figure out our next adventure.

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