The bedroom glows dim under candlelight. Flickering shadows dance on walls. I’m naked. Black silk blindfold plunges me into darkness. Heart hammers against ribs. Skin prickles, hot already. Air thick, heater cranked high. Sweat beads…
In Edgar’s dimly lit apartment, heart hammering, I crawl to him on all fours. His armchair throne. Robe slipping off shoulders. Skin prickles with heat. I need the club. For my stupid bet. But mostly…
Dark apartment. Screen glows. Telescope locked on her bay window across the avenue. Catherine, 44, blonde bob, curves like sin. Me and Julie, hearts pounding, breaths shallow. That pigeon fucked my stars view—now this gift.…
I step into the doctor’s office. Heart pounding already. The questionnaire probes deep—your G-spot, sensitive triggers, exercises to unlock it. He scribbles ‘The G-Spot’ by Ladas and Whipple on a note. His eyes linger, hungry.…
October evening. Narbonne to Paris. Smooth traffic. I pull into the service station for gas and coffee. Espresso in hand, eyes scan the room. She enters. Mid-twenties. Long dark ponytail. Tall, slim, endless legs in…
Samyna’s bedroom hummed with tension. King-size bed draped in a massive towel. Oriental oils scented the air, diffuser whispering intimacy. Nadine stripped to her bikini, the easy-unhook kind I gifted her. She lay on her…
The countryside house sweated under the summer sun. Clara’s parents’ place promised rosé and lazy fucks amid cicadas. But Lou’s dusty Clio sat in the driveway. Barefoot, cig dangling, military shorts hugging her hips, no…
Spring breeze whips the balcony. Sophie sips coffee, heart racing. Two months with Lise, her ebony skin against pale tattoos. But Thibaut haunts her. That young neighbor, muscles rippling, cock thick and long. She fucked…
The monastery chamber reeks of pine and wax. Snow howls outside, full moon piercing the frosted window. I, Bishop Giampiero, 75, frail, chaste since 15, sip the shimmering Violetta left on the table. Warmth floods…
212. Still too many. Breath ragged, I stagger to the bench. Track lights sear the faded red tartan. Notebook out, fresh coq sportif bag beside. Scribble: September 7, first session, 212 strides. Goal: under 200…