A-to-Z: Queening

For those that are not familiar with the term, queening is when a lady sits on the face of her partner for forced cunnilingus or analingus. Obviously it can be part of our BDSM games: the submissive husband eagerly satisfying his dominant wife!

A-to-Z: Prostate Play

Nature has enjoyed a damn good giggle at the male species of homo sapiens, opting to hide our special spot a few inches up our arse. Perhaps, the gods were subtly pointing out to mankind that a bit of masculine bisexuality is the way to go!

FFF: Audition for Daddy

She cackled. “Your little princess has found an advert for a 25-man gangbang. They need a woman and the fee will make this month’s payment. She’ll be naked, wet, wearing heels. Just like this.

Flash Fiction: Hide and Go Fuck!

She cried with every stinging blow landing on her soft buttocks, as his right hand explored the crevice underneath, slowing probing her opening under the pretence of holding her still. Her pussy moistened as she felt humbled; accepting his rough touch probing her with begrudging horniness.

e[lust] #57

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A-to-Z: Nudity

I love being naked. I like the feel of warm sun on my bare skin, or the cooling breeze wafting over my body. I adore the liberating feeling of nakedness, unshackled from my clothes and free from restriction. I love seeing my wife in all her glory, at home and doing normal things, naked. It’s refreshing and lovely.

Flash Fiction: No carrot, all stick

“Four hundred and twenty volts. The crisp sound of crackling flesh, the sizzling smell of roasted cock, and the agonising screaming of an electrically castrated man. These are some of my favourite things,” she said softly and picked up the control box from the floor.

A-to-Z: Love

The Greeks recognised four different types of love: Agape, Eros, Philia and Storge. Storge, or affection, is the love felt between parents for their family and offspring, but the other three all exist between my wife and I in our relationship.

Flash Fiction: Getting out of hand (Caution)

Her smell of her fear permeates the cell; her face is riddled with terror. She’s new, she’ll learn. I’m going to fuck her up but not kill her. The whip indicates my dominance, a hard smack across her thighs reinforces it. She screeches; the sound of her pain is nothing but blissful music to my ears.

Flash Fiction/Darker Flame: Ignorance

She wanted to go further, and I obliged: I kidnapped her walking home from work, bundling her unceremoniously into a van and ripping her clothes into shreds as I tore them from her body. Eight masked men had their way with her in the warehouse as we assaulted her, striking her bare skin with our terrifying arsenal of whips, canes, floggers and crops.

A-to-Z: Jacking Off

Because, the truth is, I like playing with my plumbing. And it’s good for my health too: men who masturbate regularly are less likely to get prostate cancer later in life. It also helps relieve depression, provides a cardiovascular workout and lowers blood pressure. Plus, I’ll know if I get any strange lumps or tenderness, because my hands are never away from my groin for more than 48 hours! It’s good, clean fun.

A-to-Z: Impact Play

An apology for whatever transgression is never enough, it’s too late: I’m getting punished. The fiery look in her eyes, the smack of the punisher on her hands as she warms up, drawing my attention to her weapon. Sometimes she will strip my bottom bare, eager to inflict maximum pain and control.

Flash Fiction: €a$¥ Mo₦€¥

Sometimes, they keep their hands and wanton desires to themselves; I don’t like those gigs so much. Normally they can’t. Maybe the bride wants one last fling, the maid of honour sees something she can’t get from her respectable husband or a wild guest just wants a wilder time. By the time my thong gets tossed into the raunchy mob, the inhibitions are long gone.

A to Z: Handjobs

But with a dash of lube, handjobs can be turned from that inexperienced fumbling and into a wondrous, sensual experience. The long, lingering look as her hand clasps over the head of my cock and slides down the shaft; a pout, a kiss, the control of a lover.

Flash Fiction: Crossing a line

The one, who the devoted husband would experiment with; the one whose erecting cock, blessed with ridged veins and a bulging purple head, was aching to be kissed. The one who had guided him to his first visit to a gay sauna.

His eyes fixed on Rick’s cock, as he dropped to his knees to admire it; he had never been this close to another man before, and moved his head slowly to kiss the tip of his dick.

A to Z: Glass dildos

My wife and I adore the glass dildos we have purchased; they look like a basic toy but offer versatility in play. They are inexpensive, easy to clean, bodysafe, quiet to use, compatible with every lubricant and can coax dozens of orgasms out of the lucky recipient.

Flash Fiction: Now you’re a man!

She licked her lips as I sat down, feeling overdressed in the presence of her beauty, but she passed me a bottle of her family’s fresh cider, and knelt down in front of me. “I wanted to do this on your eighteenth birthday,” she said with a wink. “Imagine you’re eighteen again.”
She began to lower the zipper on my shorts, licking her lips as butterflies fluttered around my belly button. “Enjoy your cider,” she whispered, reaching inside my boxer shorts to grab my erect dick. She was gentle, her touch delicate and sensual, as I took my first swig of the alcoholic drink.

A to Z: Figging

For those that don’t know, figging is the art of taking a piece of shaved ginger root and placing it into anus, to create a burning sensation in the recipient. I know most of its use is in BDSM sessions and play, and the pain it can cause will complement sadomasochist games. I know this …

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Flash Fiction: University Debauchery Club

They all cruelly laughed at her; University students can be so brutal. Their venomous barbs and unkind language were destined to gnaw at her confidence and smother her happiness. It was unacceptable. But that’s how they saw her: sure she had more curves than her peers, but why was that always a bad thing? Why …

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Flash Fiction: The maids of dishonour

The fair-haired girl was unfazed by my presence: she leant over to the floor, to deposit her cleaning box on the carpet, ensuring that her short frilly skirt, rose seductively to reveal dark fishnet stockings and deliciously creamy thighs under her black lacy trim. I grunted appreciatively at her impromptu display, watching open-mouthed as she adjusted her skirt, to reveal the peachiest, most beautiful arse, split with a thin black thong.

Flash Fiction: For your thighs only (007 Parody)

“Thunderballs. Jack Thunderballs.”
She gave a cursory smile, as her eyes focused on a big spender a few tables away from the bar. “I trust you will have a good night, Mr Thunderballs, but I have …”

“You’re watching Gregori,” I voiced loudly as she went to move away from me; she froze. “He’s staying the night in room seven-zero-two.”