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/elit/ - Erotic Literature
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There's a new /777/ up, it's /selfhelp/ - You're Pathetic, We're Pathetic, We Can Do This! Check it out. Suggest new /777/s here.

Movies & TV 24/7 via Channel7: Web Player, .m3u file. Music via Radio7: Web Player, .m3u file.

WebM is now available sitewide! Please check this thread for more info.

BFORE YOU POST, KNOW THIS! Cowboy!6UZGZTHCak ## Mod ## 10/06/30(Wed)19:25 No. 8547 ID: 5eefb3 [Reply] [First 100 posts] [Last 50 posts] Stickied

ALL REQUESTS FOR STORIES OR STORY CONTENT ARE TO GO IN THIS THREAD! ALL STORY REQUESTS NOT POSTED IN THIS THREAD WILL BE DELETED AND THE POSTER MAY BE BANNED. ALL COMMENTS QUESTIONS, AND OTHER OF THE LIKE ARE TO GO HERE AS WELL! Also, if you don't have constructive comments, keep them to yourself. Or you'll get banned for being an ass. This is not /b/, you have been warned.

Make sure that you check out http://asstr.org or http://storiesonline.net, or any other of the fine erotic literature sites, or GOOGLE IT! THEY MAY HAVE THE STORY ALREADY THERE!…Where ever that may be….Also, any plagiarism will result in a BAN!


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Anonymous 15/01/18(Sun)20:57 No. 23133 ID: 2785b3

>>22063
Also looking for this, just spent a good hour trying to find on google, this was the only thing to do with it.




READ BEFORE POSTING! Cowboy!6UZGZTHCak ## Mod ## 10/06/30(Wed)19:11 No. 8546 ID: 5eefb3 [Reply] Locked Stickied

This is a thread for ALL AUTHORS and READERS. Though you are not required to, I would recommend that you save your story in a post able form, this is to ensure that your story stays preserved and that if 7chan is to go down AGAIN. Also, if anyone has something available as far as web space for an archive, please e-mail me at 1subject@live.com.
I also recommend to everyone that you visit us at the IRC at irc.7chan.org in /elit/ channel. Research it and please stop in, any questions you have about well, ANYTHING can be answered there. There are many good different types of IRC clients, some can attach right onto your browser. So find one and set it up.
3litchan is gone as far as I know. Don’t asking nothing more, ‘cause on that subject….I don’t know nothing’, I just work here.
Adios,
Cowboy




San Francisco Wazzles !JUD7F1CtU. 14/08/06(Wed)19:22 No. 22193 ID: e633c7 [Reply]

Hello all.
I've written some short stories so I'll keep this short. It's a story about loving a dickgirl and the heartache and buttache that comes with it. It's my first longstory, it's slow. It's not done yet: I want the readers to pick a cool ending. I have about 6 chapters ready to go with a few more in the draft stages. If this thread dies I will make it clear. Hopefully that doesn't happen. If you find any typos, inconsistencies or fuckups please let me know.
Hope you enjoy.

global tags: herm on male, mf, femdom, futadom, reluctance, group, kinda romancey

---

Prologue:


I gulped. It was only a natural response, when something is clogging up your windpipe you have two choices - cough or swallow or suffocate. I can’t be blamed for picking the latter can I?
“Good boooy” she goaded, one hand on my throat, feeling my hyoid bone slide gooey contents down the tube. Her other hand brushed sweaty hair out of my eyes and tears from the side of my face. They weren’t tears of pain or sadness. Okay, maybe a little bit of pain. I gasped for my first full lung of air since we started, now my throat was completely empty, if it weren’t for the sticky sides - the way it clung to the walls like fried eggs. Stop thinking about eggs I focused on her face, flushed and pleased. My eyes, only slightly defiant, stared up into hers through the dark. I could still see them glitter with satisfaction as they wandered past mine, over me to the other side of the room. Hidden under the blankets I couldn’t see what was happening there, even if I could hear it; gentle moans and heady grunts, two different voices. Bronte’s hand went from my throat to my chin and a single finger beckoned me up her body, my tongue dragging up her sweat lined skin. She giggled in response.
“You’re getting good” she claimed, pulling my body against hers once we were face to face, naked skin touching naked skin. She had a little smirk on her face that looked like ’I know you enjoy it’
She planted a kiss on my forehead and her hands roamed over my skin. “Roll over” gestured, pushing my hips slightly. I silently agreed and turned to my other side - little spoon. From here I could see where the noise was coming from -

“That’ll be you tomorrow” Bronte claimed, both her promise and my body.

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Wazzles+!JUD7F1CtU. 14/12/05(Fri)21:42 No. 22907 ID: 47e386

Chapter 7 - Apache Rose Peacock
tags: voyuerism, herm on male


Bronte left soon after, she was having dinner with her parents that night. After we'd washed each other off, dressed and had her tease me through my clothes even more she wordlessly directed yet again that I don't cum. I told her "no" but she only kissed me to keep my quiet, her dainty lips pecking into mine to shut them up as she disappeared out the door again, hips swaying. Maybe that last bit was just my mind.
So we spent the night jamming, putting up fairy lights, exploring - that was my favourite part; every room had a secret, something interesting - an old box of schoolbooks, graffiti, stained glass, ancient notes written on the walls in ink pen:
Dear Carmichael,
Brilliant time under your hospitality
I'll send those old Italian shutters around next season
See you then
- Anton

There were years old notes under old brown glass ashtrays - stuck to the bench:
Freya
I leave back to Montreal tomorrow
I love you.
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Anonymous 15/01/02(Fri)12:21 No. 23049 ID: 9b1f4a

C'mon DJ, bring that beat back!


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Wazzles !JUD7F1CtU. 15/01/27(Tue)04:57 No. 23161 ID: bc18c6

Next two chapters drop pretty soon, I've spent a long time on this section of the story because a lot of it relates back to itself, I wanna make sure all the shit is right.
Be cool, be patient, this is where shit get's interesting.




Housecat - Ageplay, Futa, Incest, and more! Anonymous 14/06/03(Tue)12:26 No. 21875 ID: 47e7b4 [Reply]

C1
Mother was different, I guess.

From what they told me, my mother and my father were madly in love. They travelled the world together, like some cheese romance movie that you feel like you paid too much to see. Up late, always together, they were inseparable. My father had made quite a lot of money in his profession, and we were very well off. They loved me unconditionally, and I felt there was no better childhood to have. Christmas was beautiful. Summer was vacation. Birthdays were christening events.

When father died, my mother became Sadie. She didn't have to work, we had enough in savings to send ten children to college in thirty years inflation, but it was only her and I. It made me feel out of place, no longer were there interesting meals and a neat, varying lifestyle. My mother just sat around the house, laying on the couch or sitting at the dinner table for hours on end. She wasn't blank, but she didn't care anymore. When we caught eyes, she looked at me like a burden, or a reminder of things she had lost. I was 10 at the time, but now I'm 15.

"Sophie," Sadie called to me, turning her head but not actually looking at me, "don't forget to pick up milk on your way home from school." She looked like the shell of a woman that I had known before. Her hair was still a bushy curl of long brown crescents, and her figure was still the deep envy of neighboring women, but she sat on our long couch with no soul or composure. Her arm hung off and she turned her head back into staring at the ceiling, the daylight burning the curtains and the furniture. I went to school 6 miles away, but from this point I was plenty used to walking in the Californian sun. I didn't really remember what father looked like if it weren't for the pictures that hung on the walls and the mantle, and I looked at one on my way out. We all looked so happy. I turned my head back to Sadie, who had resumed the blank stare at the ceiling. Shutting the door with a little more force than usual, I began the blister blossom walk.

People liked me, I guess. Everyone I knew at school was very nice to me, but I couldn't let them under the armor. Nobody could really get what was wrong. All of my classmates wouldn't understand what my life was like, it was best to just let them get back to listening to their pop music and wearing their pattern pocket shirts. The school day just rose and fell like the sun around the building, and before I knew it, the day was over. All I could think about was how much a damn skateboard would cost as I began to roll my heels in my converse, which weren't exactly the holy grail of foot support. The sun had started coloring the horizon as I opened the door of my home, at the top of a vista hill, and shut the door behind me.

Sadie rolled her head to look at me again. It seemed as though she hadn't moved, but all the pic Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Anonymous 14/12/21(Sun)11:16 No. 23003 ID: 47e7b4

C3
Mink seal and ermine
smother fat women.
I have a noble cause for skin,
there's just too many of them.

The only necessary coat
carries the brain inside it's skull.
Just a bitch in the manger to the balances of nature.

Cover me with skin,
and accuse me of sin,
but you know what I mean,
there's just too many of them.

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Anonymous 15/01/26(Mon)08:47 No. 23159 ID: 47e7b4

C4
In my restless dreams, I see that place.

Twelve trees, narrow yet deceptively tall, stood in a circle. They swayed with the breeze, pitch black against the night sky. Their leaves rustled against each other, the wind whistling as it split between them. I touched a tree, letting my fingers drag across the rough, cold bark. The ground beneath my bare feet was wet, like walking in smashed berries, but I couldn't see what I stood in through the cover of night. I felt compelled to continue, moving clockwise in the vortex of poplar. When my feet touched midnight, I was in the room again. A cold, marble white statue stared at me with vacant eyes. Her expression was sad, her eyes blank, but I knew it was only a statue. It would never change. I pushed apart the red curtain and broke into the night air, the front door swinging open and I began to run free.

Immediately, I felt like I had just escaped from some waking hell, a nightmare scenario where the only way out was to run. My lungs were free to breathe in the cool night air, and although I could feel my head trying to break free from my skull, particularly around the ears, a thousand weights had been lifted from my shoulder. It had been raining since I had awoken, but I couldn't mind. Nothing could bring me back inside.

A few streets down, I still felt the burn to run, but my body was weak. I lifted up my foot to see a couple black tar rocks, the credit and pride of the California pavement system, stuck in my bare sole. I hadn't even grabbed my shoes on the way out. I was soaking wet, dressed in a beaten tank and my now ruined pajamas. I felt like a defeated warrior, standing in the colosseum before judgement. Or perhaps a criminal, finally caught and brought before her crimes.

What had come over me?

What kind of inane sense had taken over my mind? My stomach was churning, reeling, a nauseating sickness that seemed to take my entire body along with it as I crouched on the dark street corner, freezing and alone. I didn't know what time it was. I wasn't even really sure what day it was. I spent some time thinking the chronological events of the weekend, but all I could see when I played my memories back to myself was a red curtain. Like some kind of stage show, where it would never start and I wasn't really sure I wanted to see what was behind it. I stood up, despite the soreness in my thighs and the burning in my lungs. It was time to go.

If I stayed, she would find me. I had to keep going. But where?

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Soli 15/01/26(Mon)23:42 No. 23160 ID: 249114

Not to nitpick, but did you really open that chapter with a line from silent hill? Lulz

Haven't read this story, but that's amusing.




Roommates (loli) Anonymous 12/10/06(Sat)11:32 No. 17319 ID: 5c8966 [Reply] [First 100 posts] [Last 50 posts]

It all started when I was 19, in my first semester at college. I'd moved away from home and into my first apartment, and got my first roommate as well. He was a year younger than me, but unlike me he hadn't spent a year after graduating highschool saving up his money for tuition and rent. His parents died in an avalanche at a ski resort, and between their considerable savings and the payout from the life insurance, he could afford college and not have to work for years. I hadn't known it when I met him at orientation and we decided to share an apartment, but he also had custody of his 11 year old sister.

The apartment was big, and nicer than I could have ever afforded on my own, so all three of us had separate bedrooms (hers was supposed to be a laundry room or something originally.). I also discovered my roommate was a bit of a dick who neglected his little sister.

I don't think it was intentional, more a result of losing his parents and having to adjust his plans for the future to revolve around caring for his sibling, and he probably wasn't ready for that sort of responsibility. But unless he needed to give her a ride or buy her something she needed, he basically didn't interact with her. He also barely did anything with me; maybe once a week he'd play video games with me, but he spent nearly all his time in class or shut in his room studying.

His little sister was cute, with her blue eyes, freckles, and short, light brown hair, but obviously way too young for me. She didn't play with dolls or anything, so I guess she was mature for her age, but she also spent all her time shut in her room when she wasn't at school. And I don't think she had any friends at her new school either.

After a month or so with my new roommates, we'd settled into a routine. If they weren't exactly friendly, they weren't bad either; quiet, clean, and they were the only way I could afford a really nice apartment just a block from campus.

I wish I'd known then what I know now. It'd have saved me a lot of grief.


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Anonymous 15/01/16(Fri)19:15 No. 23122 ID: 6ba2ee

dont loose hope folks, op will lead us to glory

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gur8ccqrQ9c


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OP!!L1ZTV3LGZl 15/01/26(Mon)01:07 No. 23157 ID: ad02ce

I crouch in the corner, tense, heart pounding, trying not to hyperventilate. The waiting, the anticipation, always gets to me. I quietly thumb back the hammer.

The bandit, bearded and smelling like unwashed hobo crotch, walks into the room, clearly expecting it to be empty. He has a momentary look of surprise before I fire a 26.5mm flare into his chest.

Taking two MRE crackers and a ration bar, I make s'mores over the crackling fire burning in his chest cavity. Then, satisfied that my perimeter is once again secure, I sit down with my snack and futilely wipe dust and grease from the dim monitor before me.

Then I crack my knuckles and the ancient keyboard begins clacking.

IT IS TIME.

------------------------



Gentlemen, I have begun the next chapter of Roommates. I need to refresh my memory of where I'm at in the story; once that's finished, your patience shall be rewarded.
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Anonymous 15/01/26(Mon)08:11 No. 23158 ID: 000ed5

Bless you OP!




Anonymous 14/01/06(Mon)22:01 No. 20604 ID: 9f21ec [Reply]

JENNY, part 1

I'd just graduated from University at the age of 21, and taken a job at a local bar for some cash to keep me going while I was job hunting. There were very few young drinkers there; most were men in their 60s or 40/50 year old couples. As a young, handsome guy, I got a lot of attention from the women in their 40s, and often returned that attention with some harmless flirtation. All in good fun, just a way to pass the time in a menial job.

After a while I started drinking there; it was the nearest bar to home after all, and I often got bought drinks by the manager or the regulars. It was in this fashion that I met a few of the 'younger' regulars: a couple in their late 30s, a single 40 year old woman called Carly and a 28 year old guy who all drank together a few nights a week. I started to join them and got to know them all quite well. The couple, Ed and Christy, had recently fostered a 15 year old girl, Jenny, and were desperate to get out for a proper night out and were regularly discussing needing a babysitter. Being a low-paid barman, I offered to look after Jenny for a night as I was desperate for some extra cash.

I'd met Jenny a couple of times at the bar and she was a nice girl; a little bit hyper and excitable but there was nothing wrong with that - she was still a young teenager after all. She always seemed happy to see me and i was always happy to chat to her - i was the nearest to her age, so i just assumed she was eager to talk to someone who wasn't at least 20 years older than her. I'd never really looked at her properly before - why would I really? - but one day I was walking through town and saw her in her school uniform; she had a green skirt and tights, showing off her slim legs, with some slight curves where her muscles were being to develop. Her top half was covered with a big baggy jumper, as usual, so I couldn't tell how she looked there. I didn't think much of it then, as I knew she was too young, and I saw teenage girls in their uniforms all the time - why should this one be any different?

Anyway, the night of the babysitting rolled around and I heard over to Ed and Christy's house. When I got there, the couple were getting ready, and Jenny was watching TV, wearing a baggy hoodie and sweat pants. She waved and gave me a big smile, as Christy took me to one side.

"Thanks for helping us out," she said. I looked at her up close. She'd really dressed herself up, wearing a nice dress that showed ample cleavage, and her hair was wavy, framing a pretty face which had a small amount of makeup on. I'd always appreciated older women, and mainly watched MILF porn, so when I first saw Christy I noticed her massive breasts, curvy body and pretty face highlighted by bright blue eyes, and so had fapped to her a few times. I made a mental note of how she looked for later on.

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Anonymous 14/09/18(Thu)15:52 No. 22457 ID: b07e95

more


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Anonymous 15/01/15(Thu)03:15 No. 23112 ID: 5099d7

Man, OP back again. It's been so hard to find time to finish the story. I've been plugging away at it for months. Here's the next installment...

CHRISTY, part 2

While I sucked on her quickly hardening nipples, I slid her pants off. As soon as they were off, one of my hands went straight to her panties. I rubbed Christy’s pussy from outside her panties, at the same time I kept kissing her breasts. Her skin was so smooth it was driving me wild; I could feel my cock throbbing inside my jeans as months of lust was coming towards satisfaction. I could feel Christy’s panties getting damper, so I stopped briefly to pull off my pants. As she lay back on the sofa, I saw her eyes work down my body and stop at my groin – my cock was bulging against my boxers, and she stared at it for a while. I climbed back on to the sofa and on top of her, then removed her panties. She was now naked beneath me and as I resumed kissing her, I cupped one of her boobs with my left hand and slipped my right one down to her pussy. Her damp cunt got me riled up and my hand slipped between her lips and on to her clitoris. As I massaged both that and her breast, Christy pushed her groin back against my hand as her body started writhing slightly with the pressure. As this happened Christy started rubbing my cock through my boxers.

Just as with her foster-daughter, I wanted to taste this beautiful woman’s pussy, so before she could start tugging me off, I worked my way down her curvy body with my mouth, sucking her tits on the way before softly kissing the smooth, soft skin of her torso before arriving at a clean shaven cunt. I could smell her flowing juices, luring me in with that aroma, her pussy lips slightly parted and my tongue flicked out to her clit. Using my tongue, I spread her labia completely apart, allowing my tongue access to her mound. At first, I licked her slowly, applying gentle pressure as my tongue worked up and down her clit; the soft moans coming from above my head told me that Christy was enjoying this. This got me even hornier and encouraged my tongue to start flicking at her mound quicker. As my tongue flitted around her clit I introduced my fingers, slowly massaging her labia while working them further open, before slipping one of my fingers inside her moist slit. I worked my tongue faster as I pushed my finger in and out of her pussy, which elicited a very positive reaction; her body began gyrating and moans of pleasure were escaping her mouth.

Christy’s body started gyrating and shuddering more and more, but before she could come, she tapped me on my head and told me to stop. I looked up at her from between her legs. “Come upstairs, Dave, let’s get more comfortable.” I stood up and she took my hand, leading me upstairs to her bedroom. I watched her naked, curvy ass sway from side to side as she walked up the stairs ahead of me; I couldn’t take my eyes off it. When we got t Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Anonymous 15/01/25(Sun)23:22 No. 23156 ID: 5099d7

More OP. I got so hard reading the Jenny section. Held off as long as I could but picturing Christy made me cum buckets.




The Club 2013 wondash!v4DxM5avR6 13/05/08(Wed)23:26 No. 18894 ID: cfb7ee [Reply] [First 100 posts] [Last 50 posts]

My stories tend to involve women placed into sexual situations against their will (nc). Often the physical restraints and stimulation involve racks and machines of one kind or another. I don't consider myself a great (or even good) writer. I just write what turns me on. My first story about “the Club” was written back in 1996. This story was started in 2010 and continues to refine the Club world. I've completed about 10 (short) chapters. Here's the first chapter. If people seem interested, I'll post some more.


The Club 2010


Chapter 1

I heard about this place called the Club, that's the name, just 'the Club'. A business associate of mine told me a story over a few beers while we were at a conference in Dubai. He had been told about this club from a supposed member. Names are never discussed, so if you tell my story, please, never mention my name.

So anyway, back to the Club. My business associate (friend) tells me he heard about this place where all the women are sex slaves for the clients. But these girls are not just acting or into this kind of stuff. They're all kidnapped and somehow turned into sexual nymphs. All ages (above some cutoff) and all types of girls! I asked him if he knew where the place was, or how to become a member, but my friend's friend wouldn't say. It seems you need to be invited.

For the next few months I occasionally searched the internet for clues to the Club. But given that the name was rather generic, the queries were useless. To be honest, I wasn't even sure I believed it existed. Still, I was intrigued by the thought that this place could fulfill a sexual fantasy of mine. For now, let's leave it at that.

Eventually, I started to drop little hints about the Club whenever I was on business out of the country. I'd be talking with someone at bar and ask “Have you ever heard of this place called The Club?” “It's like a gentlemen's club, very exclusive and very secretive.” Nobody knew anything – or at least that's what they would say.
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Anonymous 14/12/31(Wed)11:39 No. 23040 ID: 43befb

I had been waiting for so long but the post was so short! I do love where it is going though.


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Chapter 27 wondash!v4DxM5avR6 15/01/06(Tue)05:25 No. 23074 ID: 63bf29

Chapter 27


As we moved down the hallway and back into the elevator, Tripp asked “What do you think of our dairy farm so far?” “You’re a psychopath Tripp.” “I like to think of myself as a genius. You can’t imagine how much money this dairy generates. Do you know there are some wine connoisseurs who will only serve cheeses from the Club Dairy when drinking a vintage wine?” My mind wandered and I thought to myself; it’s funny how your perspective changes based on the situation. Were I not currently strapped naked to this rolling table, I probably wouldn’t think twice about what I was witnessing. In fact I know I would have been aroused. “What, nothing more to add Jack?” He waited but I did not respond. “You’re really becoming a bit of a bore Jack.” “Like I said, just get on with it asshole, flip the switch.” “Really? You don’t want to see the actual milking process? Amanda, what do you think, should we continue with the tour?” “Whatever you wish sir.” “Hear that Jack, whatever I wish! Amanda, come put Jacks dick in your mouth.”

Amanda kneeled down in front of me. I was flaccid, but pain or no pain; her warm wet mouth changed that almost instantly. She was very good. “Jack, think about this, I could have your sister giving you a blow job and I bet you would still get off. Or better yet, what if I let Susan give me a blow job and you watch?” “F-fuck you.” “You’re like a broken record Jack. Amanda, let’s move on.” I involuntarily thrust my hips forward, wanting the release that would not come. “I’m sure you’re going to like this next room.” The elevator doors opened on the opposite side and I was backed out.

Before turning around, all I could hear were the sounds. It was a cacophony of moaning, screaming, crying, and sucking. Plus there were mechanical sounds; humming, pumping, and hydraulic hissing. I rotated around. The room was like a warehouse, two stories high and huge. Coiled tubes and hoses stretched down form overhead girders. Insulated pipes connected various machines with vapor or ice forming at different sections and elbows. Off to the sides were empty transport racks. Workers were everywhere, mostly women wearing tight white shorts. And of course there were the milking stations. Each had pumps, stainless steel tanks, and control consoles situated along side. The workers moved from station to station, monitoring the consoles and occasionally making adjustments.

And then there were the poor girls. Eight in a row, mounted on the milking stations. I was facing their backsides. Each was restrained in the rigid frame. The cuffs around their ankles were mounted to brackets atop steel pipes jutting from the floor. A third pipe was visible forward of the other two, attached to the brace at their stomach. The mounted girls leaned forward, about forty-five degrees, breasts hanging down. Between the pipes supporting their l Message too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Anonymous 15/01/25(Sun)12:42 No. 23155 ID: 4c32e2

Oh Man. ETA on the next chapter?




young neighbor ch1 (futa on male) wut 12/07/18(Wed)08:46 No. 16682 ID: aecf9f [Reply]

Okay, trying again with hopefully correct formatting.

------------------------------------------

Cameron Dodges, 22 years old, had been in his new house for a week before he saw his pretty neighbor. He’d moved into the nicely landscaped, gated community with just his 2000 pickup and his belongings, which all fit in the bed of the truck. Moving from the college dorm to a real, two-bedroom townhouse meant he didn’t have much – not even enough to fill up an entire room. He’d already ordered new furniture and he planned to have his new home completely set up within a month.

Graduating near the top of his class with a degree in Finance, he’d landed a great job at a boutique investment banking firm. The firm was small, but its clients were very large and he was already planning on how he’d use his newfound income to live in relative luxury. He’d worked hard all through college, and now it was time to reap the rewards. He only had a few years to enjoy it before going back to graduate school anyway. Getting the MBA meant he’d be able to move up to manager, then VP.

He’d just pulled into the driveway and was about to run into the house to escape the freezing cold air when he saw a good looking young woman in the yard next door, pulling down Christmas lights. She was a little thin for his tastes; he liked thicker, curvier women. That was probably because it was the type of woman he never ended up with. He had the face and body that only drove young girls and older cougars wild.

Cameron was 5’7’’ and 135 pounds, with fair hair, blue eyes and the pretty-boy face of boy band member. He hated to admit it, but with his inability to produce much facial hair and his babyish face, he could still pass as a high school kid. For this reason he made a conscious effort to dress in expensive, tailored clothes and develop a confident, smooth-talking persona. He hated being treated like a kid, and did everything in his power to seem more mature.

He hadn’t met anyone in this new city, and he really wanted to go on some dates before he started his new job, so he crossed the snow-covered lawn to his neighbor’s yard. The girl was wearing white tights under a festive plaid skirt, with a red cashmere sweater over a white button down shirt. As he approached he saw that although she was thinner and shorter than he preferred, she did have some wonderful curves to her.

The young lady appeared to be about 18 or 19 and was 5’6’’ with long, brunette hair and dark green eyes. Cameron saw her body from the side as she pulled the lights off the bushes. The sweater hugged her body tightly, accentuating her thin waist and the large breasts pushing out above. He also saw from the way her knee-length skirt gripped her behind, that the girl had a well-developed ass. Actually, he reconsidered, she’s pretty fucking hot.[i/]
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Anonymous 14/08/12(Tue)01:07 No. 22244 ID: 6c388b

>>18749

Please, man, keep going.


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Anonymous 15/01/20(Tue)01:41 No. 23140 ID: 6be08f

le bump?


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Anonymous 15/01/23(Fri)23:12 No. 23154 ID: 9809f3

Holy shit this is good. Moar?




Hall monitor (mind control, f/m, maybe f/f, fair amount of story) Paz 15/01/19(Mon)03:39 No. 23136 ID: ebd7e7 [Reply]

School let out for the day, and ready to meet the unruly throngs of St. Mary's Private Catholic Academy was Meagan Scuderi. The cost of enrollment here attracted a certain kind of student: the entitled and jaded, those raised amid decadence and conservative tradition. The combination of those things and the religious affiliation of the school tended to bring out the worst in those who went here.

Despite these factors, Meagan felt herself an unspoiled beacon of hope here. She was in key club and varsity choir. She helped out at pep rallys and worked in the front office whenever she wasn't in class. The adults seemed to like her, or at least liked handing her responsibilities, and that meant that her peers found her obnoxious at best.

She didn't let herself dwell on the fact that no guy had come anywhere near her since the 6th grade. The reason wasn't that she didn't take care of herself. Meagan prided herself on both her sense of fashion and on the strides she'd made in crossfit. In fact, the person she spoke to the most often was the personal trainer at the gym her dad had agreed to pay for last summer. Finding herself growing more distant from all of her peers, she could count on one hand the number of classmates she even talked to regularly.

Distracted by a couple of freshmen boys shoving into an 8th grader, she nearly missed the cloud of smoke that came fromt he far end of the hall she was supposed to be watching.

Meagan shouted, "Hey, I see you. Stop that!", and was shocked when Darren Appleby looked back over his shoulder and took a drag from his cigarette. Two of the cheer girls shoved past her on their way to the buses downstairs, nearly knocking her over, and Darren moved quickly down the hall toward the parking lot.

She had lost sight of him but ran down the hall after him, knowing where he was probably going. The bad kids always went behind the building to smoke until Phillip Horning's sister showed up to pick them up. She rounded the corner and as the general chatter fell away behind her, she shoved her way through the door into the stairwell and shouted in surprise as the door rebounded immediately, knocking her sideways into the handrail.

Meagan only barely caught herself before running face-first into it. Laughter immediately ensued and she whirled around to see Darren, Phillip and Ben Goodwin cracking up at her expense.

"I'm writing all three of you up!" she shouted, fuming mad that, even in private school, there were these types that loved to try and get the best of those who always tried so hard.
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Anonymous 15/01/19(Mon)23:15 No. 23139 ID: 4c2b43

Great story.


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rin!y7chl82msE 15/01/20(Tue)08:20 No. 23142 ID: 8b1ade

Nice so far. I enjoy the pacing. Keep it up!


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Paz 15/01/23(Fri)18:23 No. 23153 ID: ebd7e7

Repacking her suitcase at Andrea's, she realized how much stuff she had acquired since moving in only three short weeks ago. She had replaced most of her boring white underwear with all sorts of styles and colors. She didn't like the way the really skimpy ones wedged between her buttcheeks, but they were the only way to keep from having a giant panty line whenever she wore yoga pants out places. Besides, they were beginning to feel more natural.

Her uniforms were all in a pile in the back of the guest room closet at Andrea's and she wasn't really planning on wearing them again. She couldn't use her ability to control situations as fluidly as her friend yet, but she felt confident that she could get out of basic rule infractions at school. Meagan couldn't see herself wearing that uncomfortable get-up day in and day out anymore: The scratchy pleated skirt, the starch white blouse and the little black flats that cramped her toes.

Her dad pulled up in the driveway and Meagan had to lay across her suitcase to get the zipper to close. The makeup and hair products she was using now had eaten up all of the extra pockets. A shopping trip with Andrea meant that all of the people offering samples flocked straight to you and when it came time to check out, everything turned out to be free. She hurried and tidied up what she could before he had a chance to ring the doorbell, but after a few minutes, she realized it had never rung.

She looked out of the window and saw her dad's white Corolla still parked there in front of the closed garage doors, but her father wasn't there. What was he up to? Looking out the windows upstairs, he didn't seem to be lost in the front like some of the delivery people sometimes were. She went downstairs and he didn't try to go around to the back door and accidentally end up in the pool area like guests sometimes did.

A motion light clicked on outside the floor-to-ceiling dining room windows and she saw him trying to move quietly around the side of the house. He was hunched over as though he were trying to stay out of sight, but there wasn't anything for him to hide behind and she was standing there in the dark dining room watching him. He cupped his hands over his eyebrows and looked in through the slightly tinted glass.

She was standing right there and waved to him, muttering "Uh yeah, I can see you" to herself. Pointing over to the back porch, she directed him to the door and let him in.

He gave her a quick hug and looked around, impressed, "Wow, so this is where Andrea Duvall lives?"

Meagan nodded, "Yeah, can you help me with my suitcase? It's so heavy."
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Fucking Appendix(now with editing) Soli 14/08/07(Thu)06:52 No. 22201 ID: cd8c01 [Reply] [First 100 posts] [Last 50 posts]

Hey guys. Soli again. At least a couple people seemed interested in the rough draft for the first chapter of Fucking Appendix I posted yesterday. So as promised, here is the edited first chapter, along with the second. If you like it, let me know. If its a piece of shit, let me know that too. Either way, be sure to check back often, as I will likely be updating frequently with new chapters. Once again, I give you Fucking Appendix. Hope you enjoy.
I read the words on the screen again, sure I must be misreading them. They couldn't say what I thought they did, and yet there they were.

"Do as I say, or Eve dies."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I guess it really started the day my little sister, Eve, came down with appendicitis. Even though she was three years younger, fourteen to my seventeen, we were always close, possibly owing to the fact we were both enrolled in an online form of homeschooling. That meant that for most of our lives, we were each other's only constant contact, and I always thought of her as a friend as well as a sister.

She took after our mom in that she was a petite, freckly ginger, tiny all over except for the ass and b cup breasts she had recently developed, and was maybe a bit overly proud of. It was often a topic around the house when she insisted on walking around in just her bra and panties, and I often had to politely suggest she get dressed, to which she would usually just roll her eyes, and maybe put on an overly small pair of shorts.

Though she was never exactly bubbly, she was always generally cheerful, and rarely complained about anything. That's why, when I came into the living room one summer afternoon and found her curled up on the couch looking less than happy, I decided to try and cheer her up. "What's wrong sis, got the red tide blues?" I teased as I plopped down beside her and gave her a playful nudge in the side.

I expected a playful smack, or maybe for her to help a throw pillow to live up to its name. What I got instead, was a yelp of pain from Eve, as she squeezed into a tighter ball and tears began to stream down her cheeks.

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Soli 15/01/21(Wed)23:30 No. 23147 ID: f383dd

Probably a bit predictable, I know. But it's necessary for the future of the story, especially when/if I get around to writing a sequel once this part is done.


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Anonymous 15/01/23(Fri)08:03 No. 23150 ID: 0f74e1

I think you should have put a sex scene between Adam and Eve between the mutual confession of love and the long-term relationship planning


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Soli 15/01/23(Fri)09:36 No. 23152 ID: 62e193

I thought about that actually. I have other plans for their first time though. It will all be made clear in future chapters.




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