Category Archives: Erotica

Hotel Fiction #2

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Hotel Fiction #2

Content warning: explicit erotica


The sound you breathe excites me.

I feel your pussy sliding over the head of my cock. Wet and tight. Warm.

My heart is racing. I’ve wanted you for so long, and now you’re sitting in my lap, naked and full of me. My nervousness melts away in the heat of my lust.

I grab your tits in my hands and suck on one of your full nipples. 

I pull back and stare into your ocean eyes, and then I kiss you while you slide over my dick. It’s a sensual, deep kiss. Our tongues touch. We suck each other’s lips.

My hand is cupping your face now. I stroke it through your hair. I could kiss you forever. You taste intoxicating. My head spins.

I lie back and pull you with me. You’re kneeling comfortably over me. With my arms under yours, I hug you close; your face is nestled in my neck.

Slow and steady, I thrust deep inside of you.

Your hips move in counterpoint with mine. Our rhythm escalates. We’re eager.

I grab your ass now, pulling and releasing, pulling and releasing. The sound of our bodies fills my ears. Slap. Slap. Slap.

You nibble my ear and then sit up suddenly, both your hands on my chest. You smile mischievously shortly before you twist around, pivoting on my cock, to grant me reverse access.

Your lovely backside is my full view now. Your ass and pussy consumes my attention. The image of your vagina folds stretching out with my cock drives me crazy.

I grab your ass. My nails dig into your skin. Then, I slap your butt cheek. I slap you again and again. A satisfying red glow starts to form.

Enthusiastic, you overextend, and my dick slips out, slapping me on my tummy. I push it up again with my thumb and it slips back into your cunt. You resume your fucking. Every time you thrust down, I thrust up and bury my cock in you.

Now you slow down. You’re enjoying being in control of your pleasure. You move more purposefully, trying small variations in position, experimenting with what feels good.

I wet my thumb with my mouth and massage your asshole. I circle lightly, letting your hole get used to the feel of me. Next, I put my thumb over your anus, pushing with increasing pressure, but making sure not to enter you yet. I feel your ass relax.

We’re not in the right position for anal play. You dismount and get on all fours. I push you down into the bed so that your head rests on the pillow while your ass props up.

I spread your legs wider. In front of me is your swollen pussy, gleaming with wetness, and your perfect tight, little asshole.

I squirt lube on my hand, and massage your anus again, just like before.

Then I ease the tip of my index finger in. Without pushing in deeper, I start circling my finger, like drawing little ‘O’s, stretching…

Your second sphincter slowly gives way and soon my whole finger is up your ass. I move it back and forth. I’m shaking with excitement. I’m fingering your ass! And you’re loving it!

I start massaging the walls, making come-to-me motions, and you moan in response.

I slip my middle finger in too now and I keep massaging your insides.

With my free hand, I gather up some of the excess lube, and cup your cunt, applying increasing pressure on your womanhood while I keep working on your ass.

Soon I start to circle my fingers over your pussy. You react with movement and moans, and I find my own breathing excited. Goddamn. You feel so good.

It’s time to make you come. I drive two fingers into your pussy. No need to be careful here. You are gushing wet.

I turn my hand to massage your g-spot. You react instantly. Yes, you fucking love this, don’t you?

My cock is aching it’s so hard.

I wanted to make you come with my fingers, and thought that afterwards, you could jerk me off, but I can’t. I have to fuck you.

I pick up the dildo next to me, lube it up, and slide it up your ass. Then I shove my cock into your slit and fuck you.

Double penetrated, you are overwhelmed with sensations. It’s almost too much for your body to take.

You’re uttering desperate, primal noises as my body repeatedly crashes into yours.

I’m grunting now, like some kind of animal.

I’m fucking you as hard as I’ve ever fucked anyone.

And then I explode inside you. Toe-curling, powerful bursts of ecstasy that render me senseless.

Neither of us can speak just yet.

I lay over you, breathing hard, my dick’s twitching finally still.

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Hotel Fiction #1

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Hotel Fiction #1

Content warning: explicit erotica.


Imagine my hand sliding up your back, under your hair. I grab a handful, gentle but firm.

I’m standing in front of you when I do this. I pull back your head a bit.

Your neck is exposed.

I kiss it. Softly at first, but I’m getting really turned on. My kisses get more passionate.

My other hand is clutching your ass, but now I move it to your front. I run it over your crotch. I appreciate the feel of you. I reach up under your shirt, touching skin, over your belly.

I cup your breast. You’re still wearing a bra. I circle and flick my thumb over your nipple and I feel it respond.

I kiss you on the mouth now while I really start to play with your tits.

I have to taste them now. I can’t wait.

I pull your shirt over your head, undo your bra, and rip it off.

Your tits are amazing. I cup both and put one in my mouth.

I run my tongue hard over your nipple. Then, I suck for all I’m worth.

While I’m sucking one, I’m pinching the other.

I feel your hand on my crotch. You’re running your fingers and palm up and down my already hard cock. You start to pull down my zipper.

Not so fast, I think. I give your nipple a light bite, catching you a little of guard. I take advantage and take your wrists in my hands while I push you firmly against the wall, arms up like you’re under arrest.

My body pushes against yours. I look into your bright eyes. I hear your fast breath. I feel your nipples through my shirt. Then I close my eyes and kiss you, eager and hard.

You kiss back. You bite my lip. I let go of your left wrist and hold your neck, fingers digging in below and behind your ear, thumb under your chin. We keep kissing. I love the moan that rumbles in your throat.

I kneel before you. Your jeans are button-up and I undo them all in one forceful twist to expose your panties.

Normally, I’d first remove your jeans and leave your knickers on. But I’m too eager now. I reach into the top of your panties, grab it with a fistful of denim, and yank it down. But I don’t take it off completely. I spread your legs as far as the jeans allow.

I look up at your beautiful pussy, and give it a curtesy kiss and a quick lick. I stand up slowly, kissing you all the way up. And now my hand is over your cunt. I rub my middle and index fingers up over your vulva. You’re wet. I love the feel of it. You moan softly and I kiss you again. Gently now. I caress your breast with my free hand. Our passion builds. I circle over your pussy, a little harder, a little faster.

It’s my turn now. I pull away from you. I pull my zip down, and you know what to do. You get on your knees and you pull out my cock. Your hands feel so good. But your wet, warm mouth feels better.

While you suck my dick, I take off my shirt. When I’m done, I hold the back of your head with both my hands, moving with your motion.

And then you stop the movement and just suck on my head, occasionally swirling your tongue around it. Your hand is around the base of my shaft. You’re jerking me. It’s so intense my knees feel weak. You give it a last suck and then my dick is out. You look up at me with big eyes. You’re still stroking me, all the way up and down my now very wet cock.

You help me out of my trousers. I’m naked now, except for my socks. I pick you up and carry you to bed, then pull your jeans off. I flip you on your tummy. I split your legs so that I can see the labia-line of your cunt. I run my hand over your inner thigh, and then brush against your wetness.

I bury my face in your lovely bum, and kiss the fold where it meets your upper leg. With my hand I lightly scratch your back.

I squirt a generous portion of lube on my hand. With my palm up, I slip my index finger into you. Soon, my middle finger goes in too. I push my hand up, stretching your cunt, and then I gently massage your vagina walls with a come-to-me motion. I see your back arch in response.

I flip my hand, palm down. With the same motion, I massage and stimulate the soft ridges of your g-spot. After a while, I reach in deeper, in search of the a-spot. I keep massaging. I love finger fucking you.

But I’d also like to taste you. I flip you around on your back. Your pussy is swollen, engorged. I pinch the whole of it between my fingers, slowly pulling it up, slowly twisting it between my fingers. Next, I run my fingers between the folds of your outer and inner labia. With one hand, I stretch open your lips, with the other hand I stroke your clitoral shaft, up and down. I can’t wait any longer. I have to lick you.

And so, I do. I lick around your clitoris until your hips start moving. And then my tongue lightly caresses your little button. I’m shaking my head sideways now, flicking over your clit, left and right. I enter you with my fingers again, back to work on the g-spot. I cease licking. Instead I cup my mouth over your clitoris and then I suck gently, like I’m sucking the juice out of a fruit. You taste wonderful.

I can make you come like this. You’re very close, but I want to fuck you.

I slip on a condom.

I move up to your breasts and pay them a little lip service.

Now, I’m directly over you, both your legs on either side of me. Both my hands are planted under your arms. I’m kissing you again. You’re very passionate. You want to be fucked. Badly.

You reach down and guide my dick. I enter your tight pussy and my body lights up. “Fuck me,” you say. And I oblige. This is not making love. This is fucking. Your legs are up and I thrust with conviction. But not hard enough. I sit up. Your legs on my chest, I grab your thighs and fuck you deep and hard. You reach back with your arms pushing against the headboard. Your moans are enthusiastic and urgent.

Again, I can make you come, but not yet. I pull out. I flip you around again and pull you to the side of the bed. I get off, standing. You’re on all fours on the bed. “Spread your legs,” I say. “More… Lower… Yes.” I shove my cock in your pussy again. You start fucking me immediately. Moving back and forth with your body. I give you a few playful slaps, and then I grab your ass. I’m helping you move now. We’re fucking a bit harder. And harder. And harder. I’m moving too now, in sync with you. You reach down and rub your clit furiously.

I feel my groin tingling. Jesus, I’m close. But so are you. In fact, you’re very close. Your sounds of ecstasy does something to me. Suddenly, I’m so much closer to exploding. It feels good to be able to satisfy a woman. I feel like a fucking god.

And there, you come. I can feel it. I can see it. I can hear it. And that does it for me. I come too. Jesus. Fuck. It’s almost painful. It’s hard to stay standing. We remain like that for a while. I’m still in you. And I don’t want to be anywhere else.

Lioness

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Lioness

You don’t have the same body.

It’s changed.

Ten years ago your jeans were smaller, your breasts firmer, your tummy flatter—void of your mothers’ watermarks.

I know this weighs on you.

Undesirable. Tired. Old.

You hold that you are those things.

And I look at other women, their bodies young, and they attract me. I want to lie with them.

You’d like to look like that again, don’t you?

I do not wish for it.

Your health is my concern.

That you feel sexy and comfortable in your skin is my hope.

I want you to know that you still have that power over men, that you still command my devotion.

I see your imperfections not as imperfect but rather as a testament to a life lived.

You are a fucking lioness. A ferocious matriarchal beast. The giver of everything with worth in my life.

I desire you.

Fuck me, I want you now more than when your jeans were smaller.

Hi, I’m Mark, Your Neighbour.

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Hi, I’m Mark, Your Neighbour.

Occasionally, I depart from the theme of this blog to publish samples of my other writing. Here I go again.

I wrote this story at my wife’s behest. “Why don’t you write me a porno?” she suggested. A fun writing exercise may just help to relieve my frustration with another project, so I agreed, “Err, okay.” Thus, I wrote a dirty story, and I won’t lie, I had an absolute blast doing it. My wife, I’m happy to report, liked it too.

The next day, I edited the messy draft and published it on Literotica and Short-Fiction, and between the two, they generated over 70k views—a testament to their high traffic, no doubt, and not the quality of the story. But still, I’ll take it.

The “plot” is thin and it’s corny as fuck, but that’s half the charm, no? Besides, it turned me on. May it do so for you, also.

This work is hardcore, be warned. If your sexual sensibilities are easily offended, may I suggest that you select another article—to frustrate your religious intuitions, perhaps.


Hi, I’m Mark, Your Neighbour.

He saw her most days—their schedules overlapped. When he returned from his night shift, she left for work and some days, as the elevator opened on his floor, she’d be there waiting. They always shared a smile but never spoke more than a polite hello. She’d often whisper, “fuck,” when she’d just missed the elevator and while she waited, she’d tuck in her shirt, or put on an earring, or comb back her short hair. She dressed smart: tight-fitting skirt, ironed shirt, stockings, practical shoes, and librarian glasses. Occasionally, she’d wear a dress—she liked playful, bright-coloured frocks—and on Fridays, she sported tight-fitting jeans.

Her name was Clare—he knew that from her post box in the foyer—and he often fantasized about her when he masturbated.

On Sunday, he did his laundry in the building’s basement. To pass the time, he checked Facebook on his phone while making idle conversation with Harold—a life-long tenant with a sailor’s disposition, and the only other early bird doing washing.

To his surprise, Clare descended the stairs into the laundromat, struggling to carry two baskets. He’d never seen her here before; their brief encounters were strictly a weekday affair.

“Here, let me help,” he said, taking a basket from her. She was barefoot and wore a t-shirt and shorts.

“Thanks. My mum’s machine broke,” she explained.

“Your mum still does your washing?”

She smiled. “Yeah. Jealous?”

“Not at all. I love spending my Sundays here with Harold,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Harold?” The old man, being hard of hearing, didn’t acknowledge.

Clare’s smile transformed into a delightful grin. Without makeup, he noticed her freckles for the first time. Why does she cover that up? he wondered.

While Clare sorted her laundry, he couldn’t resist spying on her. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples protruded, pointedly visible under her shirt.

She caught him staring and looked down at her breasts. “Sorry,” she said, looking somewhat mischievous and not at all self-conscious.

“No,” he said. “I shouldn’t stare. But I…I like it.”

Clare’s eyes brightened. “Really?” She watched Harold, who was reading a book, and then she stepped up to him. “What if I like that you like it?”

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly lifted his hand to her chest. Clare made no attempt to stop him. He brushed her left breast and she shivered visibly. Using his index finger, he started circling around and over her nipple, hardening it further.

A door slammed.

Harold had finished a load of washing.

Clare looked at the old man and then back at him. She grabbed his hand, said, “Come,” and led him up the short flight of steps to the elevator where she hit the button in quick succession.

He pushed her against the doors and kissed her. She tasted of spearmint. This is really happening, isn’t it!? The doors parted and they stumbled into the elevator. He pushed number 6 and turned around. Clare stood in the corner, half-lifting herself up on the handles. She bit her lower lip, looking disarmingly naughty. He rushed to her, pulled her close, and resumed their necking. With one hand, he grabbed her thigh and with the other, he ardently cupped a boob under her shirt. She nipped his lip in response.

DING.

Clare led him to her flat and into her bedroom. He wanted to undress her, but she resisted. “No. You first.” He stripped off his shirt, shoes, and socks. She helped him out of his trousers, and then she was on her knees before him, rubbing her face on his boxers and against his hard member. Without ceremony, she yanked his pants down and offered him a wicked smile before licking his manhood all along the shaft. “Jesus.” She gripped his cock, put it in her mouth, and sucked. He held her head, more in an effort to steady himself than anything else. Thank God I’ve got a condom, he thought.

When Clare concluded her oral kindness, she shoved him onto the bed and stood over him. She crossed her arms and pulled her shirt up, slowly exposing the round bottoms of her shapely bosoms. The fabric caught on her pink nipples, lifting her breasts before they bounced free. Next, she undid the button of her denim hotpants, turned around, and tugged the shorts down until it surrendered to gravity. Facing away, wearing nothing but canary yellow panties, Clare was a portrait of his desire. Her striking dimples of Venus somehow made her all the more alluring. Moving in a sensual slow motion, she proceeded to slip her undies off, bending lithely forward as she did so. With hands on the floor and knickers around her ankles, he got a healthy glimpse of the lip-line of her sex. She straightened and turned to face him, showcasing a carefully trimmed triangle of dark pubic hair.

He jumped up and lifted her onto the bed; she giggled in delight. Laying over her, he kissed her neck and shoulders. Next, he sucked and played with her tits, first the one, then the other, and while he did this, he moved his hand to her groin, gently tickling her skin on the way. She opened her legs to him and he caressed her cunt, drawing circles with his middle-and-ring finger. While he maintained this massage motion, he returned to kiss her until they were both breathless. After this, he advanced down to her inner thighs, pecking her body with his tongue and lips as he wandered, and then, at journey’s end, he spread her legs as far as they could go. Using his two thumbs, he parted the folds of her vulva to expose the wet button of her womanhood. He rhythmically licked around the nub, letting her get used to the sensation. Her soft moaning thrilled him and his dick twitched reflexively in answer. Gradually, he escalated the intensity of his service until he finally just licked hard and fast, straight up over her clitoris. With each flick of his tongue, her tummy tightened.

“Fuck me,” Clare pleaded. She reached over and opened her bedside table drawer, retrieving one of her own condoms which she tossed at him with distinct urgency.

Sitting on his knees, legs apart, he pulled her close. After tearing the metallic packet and rolling on the ribbed latex, he rubbed the head of his cock through her slit, and then, he entered her.

Clare gave a small yelp. She felt warm and tight. Overcome, he thrust deep from the start, again and again, holding her legs tight as the tempo accelerated. A pleasurable tingling soon built up in his groin. Not wanting to spend himself too soon, he slowed down, and leaned forward to find her mouth again.

They turned over and Clare straddled him. She allowed him to suck her nipples and then flirtatiously pulled away so that they were just out of reach. Stretching back, she squeezed her thighs, and started moving them with the grace of a belly-dancer. He grabbed her ass with both hands and moved with her motion. She worked on her pleasure with eyes closed. Her face contorted with each penetration. Her moaning was no longer polite, a beautiful agony.

“I want you to finish me from behind,” Clare demanded. She dismounted and proceeded to stand on all fours.

A more inviting scene he could not remember. He gripped Clare’s thighs and fucked her as hard as he could. After a couple of thrusts, she started to orgasm. Her primal groans culminated in a near-hysterical, breathless sort-of-laugh. He felt and saw her pleasure too, through the rhythmic grab and release of her pussy that was mimicked by her clenching ass. He had come too, of course, in a series of disabling and gratifying spurts that felt so fucking good.

They remained frozen, amorously exhausted—a woman and a man bowed, one over the other, in mutual hedonistic worship.

“Hi, I’m Mark, your neighbour,” he said at last. “Pleased to meet you.”

Their laundry remained forgotten for the rest of the day.