Good Fiction Online

“No, no no! Don’t do this!” Nancy shrieked, clenching her fists under her chin, her eyes filled with tears of frustration. They just weren’t listening, and she couldn’t shake their resolve at all. She would have run, if she could. But Joani, standing behind her chair, had a tight grip on both shoulders, and was pressing down firmly. At her left side, Cindy had her fist doublewrapped good and tight in Nancy’s long curling brown hair, holding her head back. And in front, standing over her, patiently waiting for this outburst to stop, Marly held the shiny metal handcuffs, swinging them gently to and fro between pinched fingertips.

“Yes, we will,” Joani whispered in Nancy’s ear.

Marly nodded confidently. “We can, and we will. Don’t try to deceive us, Nancy. We know that you want to do this, very badly. We have your boyfriend Gregory’s word for it, and we’ve read your personal journal over very carefully…”

Nancy’s face reddened. With anger, and shame. How dare they!

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We met in a bar where we danced the whole evening. She was a nurse from the nearby hospital and wanted to relax after a hard day’s work. When she asked me back to her house I agreed, of course. The sex we had was good but not fantastic. After, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

When I woke up I could feel her naked body spooning against my back. As I stirred, I felt her arm around me and her hand grasping my morning erection. Turning around, I laughed and said, “good morning.”

She squeezed my cock, leaned over me and gave me a sexy wet kiss. Her tongue explored my mouth, and her hand stroked my cock. For a moment, I wondered why she hadn’t been as forward and sexy last night. Perhaps she is a morning person or maybe was too tired after work and a long evening. I returned the kiss and probed her mouth with my tongue.

She crawled over me and pressed her naked body against mine. My cock lay between her thighs which she pressed hard against me; she was much hotter this morning than she was yesterday. She was already good last night, but now she was red hot. I broke the kiss and moved my mouth to her soft breasts which I had so liked yesterday. They weren’t there!

“My God!” I cried opening my eyes for the first time and saw what I had found so sexy. She had not lost her wonderful full breasts because she wasn’t there. Instead, there was this young girl whose breasts wouldn’t fill an A sized bra. I leaped out of the bed and stared at this enchanting young woman of about fifteen or sixteen years. Naked as the day she was born, she lay in the bed looking at me.

I suddenly realized that I too was naked, and she was looking at my hard cock.

“Come back to bed” she said, speaking for the first time. “I want to play some more.”

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I missed you today. Yesterday, too.

I usually see you sometime during the day. You are there, in the ops room, behind the almost soundproof glass, either when I arrive, sometime while I’m there or before I leave.

Yesterday I missed you because I went out the back door and you were on the swing shift. I checked the log and found out you were in. That’s good – I was afraid you might have left without me ever getting a chance to say much more than “Hello,” or “Which machine has a connection to this printer?”

Your smile lights up my whole day. We’ve barely met, exchanged “Hi, how are you”s and smiles and waves. I’d like to take you to lunch.

“But you’re married,” you point out.

“I said lunch,” I return with a smile. “Just lunch.”

“Why?”

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I can’t remember exactly when my sister Cindy and I first began masturbating in front of each other, but by the time we were in high school, we would usually come home after our dates with other people and tell all about what Cindy called “the juicy details.” My sister is a beautiful brunette with smallish-sized tits. I’d tell about dry humping my date in the front seat, or touching some girl’s tits; and Cindy would sit back against the headboard of her bed and slowly bring her knees up, then open her thighs.

As she listened to me describe my sexual adventures, she’d moan a little, and begin rubbing her pussy through the thin cotton of her panties. While I watched, eventually she’d pull her panties off, let her skirt slide up to her hips and expose her naked pussy to me. By now my dick would be getting very nice and hard while I told what I’d done with other girls. Cindy would put her feet together, sole to sole, and spread open her legs so they formed a diamond shape with her pussy at the top.

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“Mr. Jones.”

Mike looked up from his grade book. Jane Smith. She was eighteen, smarter than all of the women–and men–he knew. “Yes, Jane? What can I do for you?”

“You didn’t credit one of my answers.” She laid the paper in front of him, upside down to her, and tapped her forefinger on number 14. “Problem fourteen.”

She held her finger there for a moment and though he pretended to look at the problem he actually examined her fingernail. Fashionably short, clean and manicured. It was painted with a clear coat of polish, possibly with a pink tint, that made it shine in the fluorescent light. The large white half moons of the base contrasted nicely against the healthy rose pink of the rest of the nail bed.

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Everybody knows the game Minesweeper, right? It comes on your PC with Microsoft Games. I used to play it all the time. I don’t anymore.

My brother taught me how, and for a long time, I played the game on his laptop. Then I got a laptop for my 17th birthday (not a Macbook, not like I wanted, but a Dell like Eric has) and from then on I played in uninterrupted peace. The weird stuff started when I was a few days past my 18th birthday.

Happy Birthday, my computer told me. I jumped, blinked in surprise and stared at the screen.

“Huh?” I said stupidly.

The greeting was splashed across the screen in big pink letters. It filled the screen, edge to edge, in letters 3″ tall. I looked for the offending program, but had nothing running but my Minesweeper game. I was about to yell for Eric, had in fact turned my head to cry out his name when I caught movement from the corner of my eye. Not movement; a change. The letters now read Don’t call your brother! I gawped, speechless. They changed again.

You like to play games?

I nodded, feeling really stupid.

Like to play a game with me?

I slammed the computer shut and hollered for Eric at the top of my lungs.

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It was one Friday night; Mary and I were at a hotel bar out of town, when Mary surprised me by drinking more then she usually did. She drank like a fish until she finally was so plastered that she was leaning against the counter to stay upright.

I was half drunk too, so when she asked me to help her upstairs to our room. For some reason I made believe I was really in no condition to go upstairs myself and I asked a guy who was standing next to us at the bar if he would help her up to our room.

He introduced himself, his name was john and he was a big black man. He quickly volunteered his services. I stood there as John wrapped his large arms around my wife and helped her walk toward the elevators.

At the elevators he picked her up in his arms and carried her into one while I followed behind. I noticed that one of john’s large black hands were up under my wife’s skirt. I assumed it was accidental, but secretly I hoped it wasn’t.

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“Oh Brittny, I just can’t wait to get to the beach!” cried Joanne, “The temperature is perfect. Our bathing suits are perfect. And I can tell that it’s gonna be a perfect day!”

Brittny rolled her eyes playfully while looking at her. Joanne had so much enthusiasm and optimism. What a contrast to my outlook on life, she thought. Brittny tended to look at everything in life with suspicion; if it looked too good to be true, it probably was. A perfect day, huh? It’s probably gonna rain, or we’ll get stuck next to some smelly fat guys or something. She looked at Joanne again, who was grinning from ear to ear, and some of her cynicism started to melt away. Joanne was a very good influence on her, Brittny thought. Just being with her made her whole outlook begin to change for the better.

“Well,” Brittny finally admitted, “It does look like a nice day. Maybe it’ll turn out to be a fun time after all.” She couldn’t help but smile.

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There was a period in my mid-thirties when I admit to having been fairly promiscuous. One Friday night when living in New York I went with some friends to a place called “Le Club.” It was still fairly early and we were talking and drinking around a table, when they went off to dance or talk with someone else’ and a black man approached me. I cannot remember his name.

He had bright white teeth and very dark skin, he was very charming and pleasant so I allowed him to sit down and talk to me for awhile. Beneath the conversation, however, was a sexual undertone.

I had never been around a black man before.

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She lay panting having just cum several times that a body should, and more than it had in years. Seated, she looked up and smiled a smile languishing without cause sweating, which showed that it was not by any means. Apparently, neither was he also beat his erection against her thigh.

Turning and moving across the bed to him, she kissed him and stooped to take her nipple in his mouth and he teases, breastfeeding deeper for a moment before releasing it. Moving on down and taking his cock still covered with a piece of its juice in his mouth and hear him moan uncontrollably. She took deep, running her tongue on the underside. Suckling, indirect and licking and teasing it with his teeth. Her tail wagged her tongue against the drops of precum spread across her taste bittersweet.

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