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/elit/ - Erotic Literature
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We are in the process of fixing long-standing bugs with the thread reader. This will probably cause more bugs for a short period of time. Buckle up.

There's a new /777/ up, it's /Moldy Memes/ 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!

837 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
Anonymous 19/08/20(Tue)21:17 No. 26181 ID: c012fb

Anyone have stories from Krellscholar or an archive of the Grey Archive? It went down a couple of years back and a lot of the stories were lost.

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.

Hiraeth OP!T1tXaJv9os 19/08/16(Fri)03:09 No. 26149 ID: b49468 [Reply]

Another story I've been working on, I'm posting it while I deal with writer's block on Roommates. Yes, I have about a dozen different stories, three of them full-length novels, all going at the same time. This is the only one that fits in /elit/ though.

Tags: isekai, medieval fantasy, slavery, bondage, sex, interspecies romance, Stockholm syndrome, medieval economics, politics

The following contains scenes of adult situations and graphic violence not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is advised.


To say I was someone dissatisfied with life is an understatement. I was never a very happy person. As a child, I had few friends, and most of the ones I did have either moved away at some point, or stabbed me in the back. It still irritates to this day, every time I remember how my 'friend' Jason bragged to me about selling his buddy Ron a damaged copy of Tomb Raider he knew didn't work... and he'd actually sold it to me. He wasn't just an asshole for selling me a game he knew was too scratched up to play, he couldn't tell me and Ron apart from each other. We were interchangeable. I'd thought he was my best friend, and that's how little I meant to him.

High school was a drag. I consistently had the highest grades in my class, all while barely putting any effort in. Between my being a nerd and everyone else being jealous of my grades (seriously, I had a straight A average and the second best kid struggled to maintain a B average. The American education system is a joke. School is nothing but a convenient place to warehouse children while their parents are at work, with the added benefit of being government indoctrination centers. The actual education part is a distant second in terms of priority.), I got picked on a lot. I mean, a LOT. The one and only time some asshole tried to get physical with me, I kicked his ass. I'd been taking karate lessons since grade school, but I didn't even use any of that; I just knocked him to the ground after he hit me, then beat his face in with a rock. I, uh, might have gone a little overboard. To be fair, he started it, and I had YEARS of pent up anger and frustration, and I was well and truly sick of his shit by that point. Once I was done being suspended from school (I honestly think the only reason I wasn't expelled was because I had singlehandedly raised the GPA for the entire class and it made them look good), everyone knew what had happened. So they ignored me. Instead of constantly mocking me, messing with my desk, and basically being jerks, they simply pretended I didn't exist. I was fine with that. I just sat in the back of the class and read science fiction and fantasy novels all day; the teachers didn't care, so long as I kept acing the standardized tests they passed around every month or so like holy writ.

Then off to college. I got a useless deg Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

30 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
Anonymous 19/08/22(Thu)06:03 No. 26190 ID: 5213c4

Liska is best girl

Anonymous 19/08/22(Thu)13:49 No. 26191 ID: 3e1346

Sorry, OP. Had a busy day yesterday and forgot to thank you for my daily Liska fix.

I wonder why she's hesitant about blow jobs.

Liska is still a good little foxie, though.

OP!T1tXaJv9os 19/08/22(Thu)13:57 No. 26192 ID: b49468

Wherein Liska acquires a little sister, and both learn the importance of being good girls.


The next morning, I awaken slightly disoriented as I'm in a new room from the one I've been waking up in. Oh. Yeah. I own a house now.

You know, this world isn't so bad. I have what is basically a mansion in the country instead of a cramped apartment. I don't have a job, but have plenty of money. I have a petite, teenage bedwarmer who is frankly the best thing to ever happen to me. If I had access to the internet, I could log into Hiraeth and tell everyone how great it was. I still feel homesick, I miss my family and all the conveniences of modern life, but it's really not so bad here. At least for me. I'm sure there's plenty of people here (including slaves like the one I own) who are miserable and wish they were anywhere else, but for once I came out a winner.

I don't know who Mephistopheles is, what his reason for sending me here was, or how he did it, but I can't stay angry at him.

Liska has evidently noticed I'm awake and sat up. I pat the side of the bed and she crawls over, leaning against the side of the bed, so I can rest my hand on her head and gently rub back and forth. I lay like that for several minutes, just enjoying the sensation of her hair under my hand, utterly relaxed.


Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Roommates Continued OP!T1tXaJv9os 19/02/21(Thu)03:12 No. 25977 ID: b49468 [Reply]

Since the old thread finally hit the bump limit, I'm posting the entire story so far in a new thread, minus the comments, so that I can continue to work on the story.


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 19/08/21(Wed)23:06 No. 26185 ID: 6d0371

I would go for some anal adventures.
Maybe have Sara ask why men love anal so much (domination), or other sexual acts. Make it a bridge to some forms of kink.
Or have a general conversation between the two of them about what they are doing and how they can't tell anyone.
Adding some real world dynamics into the relantionship can explore unknown plot developments.

Just throwing out my random ideas.

OP!T1tXaJv9os 19/08/22(Thu)01:46 No. 26186 ID: b49468


No anal in Roommates.

May turn up in Hiraeth eventually though.

Anonymous 19/08/22(Thu)03:00 No. 26187 ID: 0a182b

Answer my question, OP

Also, since Sarah is already growing her front assets... it's certain that she will menstruate soon enough. Excited for the condom part.

The Farm Just Dumb 19/06/14(Fri)21:50 No. 26089 ID: 8d211f [Reply]

Something I've been working on, if people are interested, I'll post more:

The Farm

It was a warm day on the farm. The type of heat that makes you willing to walk around with nothing but shorts on, bare chested in the sun. The temperature was tempered by a slight breeze that had nearly evaporated the sweat off Jason Knauer’s chest and back before he left the intensity of the sun for the cool of the air-conditioned indoors. The chilled air gave him a slight shiver and gooseflesh, his bare nipples hardening against the cool of his kitchen. Jason grabbed his t-shirt off the back of the bar stool, poured himself a tall glass of iced sun tea and headed up to his studio.
To call Jason’s property a farm was being overly descriptive. Craving space from the chaos of the city, Jason had purchased 35 acres out in the countryside on which he grew a modest amount of vegetables and housed four horses. But he considered it his farm, referred to it that way. It was his escape from the rest of society, an isolated space he could work and focus. His routine, especially in the warm days of the summer, included getting up early, tending the horses and turning them out to pasture, weeding and various chores in the vegetable garden and then heading up to his studio to work. Lately, he was working on a novel.
Jason was a writer of what he considered moderate success. Since his second book was published to some acclaim, he hadn’t had to work a day job in years. After his third book, a collection of short stories did better than he’d expected, he purchased his farm and relocated to the country. He kept an address at a small studio in the city which he used only on the occasions he needed to be in for various meetings with publishers. Since the city was over an hour drive away, it was often easier to stay at least overnight, depending on the length of his stay.
When he stayed in the city, Jason employed a neighbor kid, Ashton, (thirteen or fourteen years old, Jason could never keep up) to come take care of the horses in his absence. He also had this kid, teenager or young man really, come over several times a week to muck the horse stalls and mow the lawn. For his labors, Jason paid the kid well, more than he could make for any other summer job. He saw it as a kind of retainer. Since Jason could be away at a moment’s notice, it made sense to have a kind of beckon call situation with the boy.
Jason sat down at this computer and opened his word document containing the novel in progress. He began to write. His main character and heroine, the young twenty something girl navigating her way through college as a poor student had found her way to paying the tuition costs by stripping at a club in one town over. Unfortunately for her, she had seen one of her professors in the audience, and more importantly, he had seen her. When her grades began to slip in this professor’s class, he had offered he Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

3 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
Anonymous 19/07/13(Sat)19:51 No. 26122 ID: 76bc2b

nice, more please, reminds me of Roommates and Darkness at the End of the Tunnel. great read

Anonymous 19/08/12(Mon)10:14 No. 26147 ID: 917942

Applauds author. great story.

Anonymous 19/08/21(Wed)15:54 No. 26184 ID: bbe66b

interesting so far. do go on please.

Traps? Ulta 19/08/20(Tue)02:05 No. 26178 ID: 656f96 [Reply]

Do you know any good trap or cross-dressing stories? I'm kinda new to this and asstr is kinda hard to use.

Neon and eyeliner. IrishDevil !!plAwNkZmL5 18/02/22(Thu)07:13 No. 25393 ID: ef02bd [Reply]

Alright folks, this will be coming out in parts.


My father Eamon had been IRA, during the troubles. He had met my mother Teagan defending a town from the INLA in the late 70s. She had, at the time, been only 16, while he had been 20. Her family had fed him and a few other fighters following a firefight. Her red hair, Da had said, was the brightest thing he'd seen, and her blue eyes "bore straight through his soul". That night she'd met him in secret and they made love for the first time.
They would later marry, and had me, their bouncing baby boy Ronan in the late 80s. My hair as black as Da's and my eyes a bright green. My mother had unfortunately developed a brain tumor when I was 8 and passed away shortly after it was discovered. Da was despondent for months afterward.
As a result of all of this, I grew up with a strong respect for and knowledge of firearms and Irish culture and history, as well as some knowledge of military and political workings. I also grew up valuing every day, knowing that it could be my last. I grew up listening to all kinds of music, and found myself especially enamoured with the gothic subgenres, and later the industrial genres in my teens. I wore business casual clothing and a deathhawk, and Nora, a girl I dated in high school had begun to get me wearing eyeliner. My father simply shook his head. He didn't care so long as I kept my grades up and stayed in shape. I hung around a few local clubs in my late teens and even DJed at one, briefly.
I ended up pursuing a career with the Defense forces, owing largely to my father's training, and worked my way into the Sciathán Fiannóglaigh an Airm(Army Ranger Wing), where I quickly became an accomplished sniper and travelled around the world a bit on some peacekeeping missions and joint task forces.

It was in Afghanistan that I met one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. I'd sat down at a table at one of the many bases after an astoundingly tough night op. I was sore and exhausted, having spent hours laying stock still with my rifle in hand followed by another hour of constantly providing cover fire and dodging haphazard return fire, switching positions to keep those fuckers guessing. It had ended with an RPG hitting a half-broken floor below me and collapsing supports...and then the floor I was crouching on at the time. While I hadn't broken anything I had taken a single bullet graze to the side of my then-bald head and my uniform, as a result of the collapse, was absolutely caked in desert dust and abdobe and a little bit of blood on the shoulder. I wanted a dram and a hot meal and sleep. I had at least been able to secure a bowl of soup. A woman with Canadian uniform had walked in, sat down across from me, and pushed a flask of Jameson's in my direction.
"You look like hell." She'd told Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

42 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
IrishDevil+!!RjAQN1MwOu 19/06/09(Sun)07:04 No. 26084 ID: ceba6d

Over the next few months I noticed odd glances from Bree every now and again. She seemed unusually tense at times and slightly more closed off than I was used to. I interpreted this as a teenager thing and gave it little thought, though it concerned me a bit.

Finally, in November, the doctors had determined through several x-rays and physical exams that my casts were ready to come off. I've always been a quick healer, but without all the help and care that Bree had been giving me I'm sure I would have been in casts and on crutches for much longer. Physical therapy started not long afterward, and I also decided to go out and get back to shooting and hunting to store up some nice fresh game for the worse part of winter. I didn't really need to, mind you, but I liked to. It was better to have venison and boar and wild fowl for the occasional meal than always eating store-bought-pumped-full-of-preservatives meat. Especially when I wanted to build up the muscle mass I'd lost over the last few months.

It was on one of these hunting trips that I had stepped in behind Bree to correct her posture with the old .308 she'd grown fond of using. She tensed up in an unusual way and her jaw and neck tensed when I had leaned in by her ear to correct her left arm and give her better stability. She recovered quickly and took everything I had said. By the end of the trip I'd bagged a large deer and she'd bagged a grouse and two sizable rabbits. I had briefly asked her about the tensing on the way back, and she'd simply muttered an apology.

Returning home, we had butchered up the meat and shrink-wrapped it for the deep freeze before she finally spoke while we cleaned our hands off.
"Dad, you know the girls all kind of fancy you right?" She asked.
I nearly choked on the bottle of water I'd started drinking.
"What? They do!" she laughed as I recovered by punching myself in the chest.
"Goodness knows I know Maven does after that incident in September, but the rest? Really?" I responded with incredulity.
"Well, yeah. You know I was looking at some pictures online the other day from that Goth Club you said used to go to. Mary's mum used to go to the same one. I saw you in a bunch of them. You haven't changed much. Claire saw it and was all 'Oh my god who's that guy with the deathhawk? He's hot! Wait isn't that your da'?' And I had to agree. You should get a deathhawk again, especially with those scars on the side of your head now." She said.
"I can't pull that off anymore!" I protested. "It'd look way too unprofessional!" I ran my fingers through my now very scruffy hair. I hadn't had it cut since the accident.
"Naw, bullshit." she said. "I can make it look nice. If you keep it down during work it'll look nice and Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Anonymous 19/06/09(Sun)23:25 No. 26086 ID: 46cda8


IrishDevil !!RjAQN1MwOu 19/08/11(Sun)23:51 No. 26146 ID: 2cb6e3

By late December I had returned to a good regime of exercise, 2 hours a day, 3 times a week. While I had quickly built up my atrophied muscles, the December snow had hit bitter and angry. I felt all my old scars and the new ones stinging in the cold. My bones ached in the mornings.
But the mornings were also where I enjoyed life more than previously. Bree had become quite the good cook over the last several months and her breakfasts were nothing short of gourmet. Today she'd prepared fresh veal hash spiced with rosemary. onion salt, and cayenne pepper, pan fried with shredded potatoes, eggs, and spinach. With a bit of toasted rye bread it was an absolute treat, and would give great fuel for my workout later.
"Incredible!" I said, as I'd finished.
"I'm gettin' good at this." Bree agreed, nodding.
Looking over at the Christmas Tree we'd set up the week previous, I asked her "What would you really love to have for a christmas gift this year?"
She thought for a moment, and blushed a bit, then shook her head and replied simply "A new brain."
I cackled with laughter, poked her in the shoulder and pressed the point "No really, A Leanbh. You've done such a great deal while I've been on the mend I want to do something nice for ya. If you could have whatever you wanted, what would you want?"
Her eyes flicked over nervously, finally settling on staring directly into my own. "I want to go out to a nice meal with you."
"Is that all?" I smiled at her. "We'll see what I can come up with in a few days." I wanted to have a plan in place by Christmas eve.

I made some calls, got in touch with some promoters I knew, and learned that a New Years Eve party open to all ages was planned at a Goth club in Dublin, so I made plans for that, and made a reservation at an upper-end restaurant nearby I thought Bree would like. Christmas came, and Bree loved her gifts...a sewing machine, a new laptop, a bluetooth speaker shaped like a coffin, a couple of new dresses, a new sling for her rifle, and a leather punch set.
"And on top of all that," I'd begun once she'd finished settling down, "Remember that all ages new years celebration I mentioned in Dublin?" She nodded, "We're going. And we're having supper at one of the best restaurants in Ireland on the way."
She leapt up and hugged me tightly "Daddy you're the greatest!"

Mika, Mika Anonymous 19/06/30(Sun)04:34 No. 26107 ID: 273d8d [Reply]


Inspired/influenced by the biggest masterpiece of our time, "Roommates", is an attempt at the genre of my own (though nowhere as good as Roommates). Takes place in an unnamed Scandinavian country; it's my first story and English isn't my mother language so it's probably pretty stiff.

Day one

Like many other places around the world, Japanese culture had become rather popular in the capital of my country, so a number of years ago, a two-day open-air Japanese culture festival had popped up to be held every spring, in one of the bigger parks close to the center of the city. As a closeted weaboo, it was only natural for me to go there. The first year I went alone, not having any friends at the time also into Japanese stuff. The festival was pretty typical, I assume, with Japanese food stalls, different games for the kids, and performances of martial arts, dances and so on. In contrast to “real” festivals in Japan, however, this was held during the day.

The stalls and performances were okay, but what really caught my surprise - and interest - was all the cosplay taking place, so I spent most of the two days looking at that. It was a real thrill to see my favorite characters being brought to life, but I was too shy to approach any of the cute girls walking around. Talking with someone one-on-one would have been okay, but they were always in groups with their friends, so I didn’t know how to join in, especially just when I was just wearing plain clothes.

So with nothing much happening, I skipped out going for the next couple of years. Entering university, I made a circle of fellow weeaboo friends and one of them suggested that we go to the festival that year. Figuring it would be better to go with someone else than alone, I agreed. Barely anything at the festival had changed, perhaps for some furries having showed up for some reason. After making our round to visit the stalls, we kept our eyes out for any cute girls to chat up. However, even though we could now act as wing-men for each other, we didn’t have much luck in getting to know any of the cosplayers. First of all, most of them seemed to still be teenagers, while we were in our early twenties, and once we did find someone our age, they had obviously gone to the festival to flirt with strangers. It probably didn’t help that we were not cosplaying ourselves, but we thought that that would be overdoing it.

The following year, my friend suggested we go again, and with nothing else to do, I agreed. An extraordinarily warm day for spring, I showed up earlier than planned, and wandered around while waiting for my friend. That’s when I saw her for the first time. In the midst of the sea of middle-aged people studying the exhibit of a Japanese garden, and the cosplayers with their big, complicated costumes, I caught a glimpse of a simple and traditional sailor school uniform. The pureness o Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

12 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
Anonymous 19/08/01(Thu)03:42 No. 26140 ID: 086cd7

More is coming but it's gonna take a while this time.

Anonymous 19/08/09(Fri)04:53 No. 26142 ID: 086cd7

I guess it's better to split the days up in several parts now, since they're getting so long, and taking much longer to write now.

Disgusting. Freak. What are you doing? I’m surrounded by police officers. They’re looking at me with equal parts repulsion and equal parts hate. Sicko. Ew. My parents are looking at me, eyes open wide in shock. Failure. An embarrassment. Josephine is looking at me, scared for her life. She covers her face with her arms before backing away. Mika is looking at me. How could you? I’m only a child. What is wrong with you? My friends are looking at me. I’m sick to my stomach. I didn’t want this, she was just so…. Everything’s spinning all around me. I try to make eye contact with Mika again but her face is just a blank slate with those two big eyes staring at me. Pedophile. Suddenly something starts shaking violently right next to me, almost like someone having a seizure.

I turned around, not sure what was up or what was down, but I managed to get up on my elbows, looking down at Mika besides me in the darkness. She seemed still now, she must have been having a bad dream to have shaken so much to wake me up.

“Wha… what is it?” I stuttered, hoping to wake her up. But she was already awake, looking worried up at me.

“It’s… okay…” Mika said quietly, reaching over to lightly stroke my arm. Good to know that she was alright. I laid down again, my mind in a haze, coupled with a slight headache as well.

“Was it a nightmare…?” I looked over at Mika again, confused. “You were shaking…”


Mika scooted over and pressed herself against me, her warm skin quickly calming me down. I noticed my body didn’t feel right, like my muscles were tired after having gone through great stress.
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Anonymous 19/08/09(Fri)09:35 No. 26143 ID: 2fb1a0

Thanks OP.

This is deliciously hot and adorable, just love it. Hope to see you update again, but don’t force yourself.

Darkness at the End of the Tunnel (slash, loli & we'll see where Random Evername 13/12/01(Sun)19:37 No. 20360 ID: 0beccd [Reply] [Last 50 posts]

This is my first attempt at starting a story on here. I've tried a few things on Fiction Press, but not quite this depraved. I'm inspired by some of the examples here (especially Roommates), so I thought I would give it a try. I don't pretend this is that good. I'm not even sure that I'm posting this right.

Chapter 1

I turn to move past Hayley McSween in the hallway connecting the kitchen to the dishwasher in the restaurant serving St. Edmund’s Country Club. With a hand on my chest, she lightly pushes me into the door for the stockroom. “Can you close for me tonight? I want to go to the mall with from friends.” Her fingers trace from my chest to my belt buckle suggesting a possible compensation for my sacrifice.

I am Kyler … Kyler Jakubowski. At nineteen years old, I scrape, borrow, and force my way through my sophomore year in bio-premed at Stony Brook University on Long Island. Straight A’s so far – lookin’ good. It may be mercenary, but I will do just about anything to endure this crucible for that glimpse of wealth I see at the other end.

I live in a cramped, non-air-conditioned attic apartment of an ancient home that I rent from some old couple – Mr. and Mrs. Watson. With its back staircase access, I never have to see them, if I don’t want to. They’re okay, though – always waving to me and baking me stuff. Back in the day, the house was an old whaling captain’s home, so I have access to a little glass room above the attic. His wife could watch for his ship to return. No lie – it’s called a belvedere.

My college is on Long Island, but my savings account is strictly Schenectady. It was a lot easier to afford the $300 monthly rent before my roommate, Freddie Steffanaur, was expelled for copying an entire term paper, verbatim, from an internet site – for the third time. What a fuckin’ jackass.

Which is why, when Hailey McSween asks me to close for her at work -- I’m tempted to say, “Yes” without delay. I can use the extra hours, even though I have a shitload of homework – I can fake it through Statistics, but Orgo is getting pretty tough. I’m lying -- even though Hailey’s only sixteen, she is smoking hot with reputation to spare. I’m always happy to do her a favor … just in case it could lead to something.

Ah shit, who am I kidding? That’s just living out one of my masturbation fantasies. With a healthy allowance, she doesn’t need the job, but her parents think it builds character. I’m glad I enjoyed a few seconds of that delirium before answering because she reaches down and traces my stiffness from the outside with just one finger, and it drives me senseless, “I can make it worth your while.”
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Anonymous 16/07/25(Mon)04:31 No. 24489 ID: 938ee9

Random Evername - I hope you're getting some respite from your symptoms. Just checking in. I'm surprised more people aren't doing the same - who knows, perhaps they are but just not commenting, as I don't most of the time. On this occasion I thought I'd send a note to you, just in case you look in every now and again.

You mentioned previously that you wanted to concentrate on your novel 'Celia', so 2 questions really:

(1) Is 'Celia' on line and available? Sorry if you've already posted details, but if not do you mind letting us know how/where we can See

(2) Do you have a feeling as to how long we may have to wait to see your continuation of this (excellent) story?

Anonymous 19/05/31(Fri)02:39 No. 26077 ID: 315a0e

Lovin the story and i cant wait for the continuation. Also bump.

Anonymous 19/07/13(Sat)19:28 No. 26121 ID: 76bc2b

god how many years since he last updated and im still waiting, would buy the novel.

Ultimate Fantasy Thread 19/06/27(Thu)23:25 No. 26106 ID: 8bf6d2 [Reply]

Your ultimate fantasy thread. Post the thought that gets you off without porn every single time. Straight or gay, I want to read what all your ideal fantasies are like.

None of you have any idea how much this fantasy arouses me. It has been on my mind for about 6 months now and I jack off to it all the time.

TL;DR: At the age of 18, and 13ish years mentally younger than what I should be at my age, an Indian man, looks after me while my parents are away, where he ends up taking his pants off and playing with his hole. He leaves the house with me where we catch a flight back to India and over the decades I grow up to fully depend on him for nutrition and care, using his hole rather than the hand I would have otherwise become fully accustomed to using, a dependence that destroys sexual intimacy with another human as you cannot get off to any other method, not even the newness of a real human orifice.

The thought begins with me being 18 years old, autistic so mentally behind my own age by 13ish years with a babysitter named Amrit who is about 30 years old, slim but toned, very good looking, and who understands that habits and addictions form at a young age, and as we get older we depend on them as if they are drugs. As in the case of using your hand for masturbation, it's a habit that becomes a dependence that completely destroys sexual intimacy with another human as you cannot get off to any other method, not even the newness of a real human orifice.

My parents are gone and we're playing lego and cars and I ram a toy car into his sitting rear as a joke. His face goes from somewhat smiling to a cold, thinking intensity. I do it again not being aware of his mood change and he very soon after lays on his stomach. [From my 27 year old perspective thinking about it, it's clear he enjoys it enough to not being able to resist someone playing with his ass; a sexy quality.] Continuing what my slightly curious but feeble mind thinks is clever, I ride the car over the mound of his rear and up his back laughing, and his expression changes from cold intensity to a slightly thinking, emotionless countenance. He then says "I have an idea", and takes off his pants and underwear and rolls it up to use it as a "mountain" atop his back for the car to drive over. As expected I do the same thing, with him noting my increasing excitement. He stays like that for awhile and then says "wouldn't it be cool if we had a small cave to drive these cars through?" and I say "YEAH THAT WOULD BE SO COOL!", unaware of what he might have in mind. Without hesitation he flips over onto his back throwing his legs back as far as they can go towards his head and openly displays his hole to me, staring at me for quite some time. His hole is of the kind that has line from all directions streaming inwards towards the slit itself [, a quality of tha Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

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