And this was new, it was an Adventure, and she could decide later on if she wanted to continue, but at that moment, she had ceased to be the girl with just three aims in life, who earned her living with her body, who had met a man who had an open fire and interesting stories to tell. Here, she was no one, and being no one meant that she could be everything she had ever dreamed of.
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Welcome to Literotica, your FREE source for the hottest in erotic fiction and fantasy. Literotica features 100% original sex stories from a variety of authors. Literotica accepts quality erotic story submissions from amateur authors and holds story contests for contributors. We offer a huge selection of adult fantasies to choose from, and are always on the lookout for new and exciting ideas. We encourage you to contact us with any comments or suggestions on how we can make this free sex story site more pleasurable for you. Have fun and enjoy yourselves while visiting Literotica Erotic Fiction! All story characters involved in sexual situations on this adult erotic web site are 18 years old or over.No minors allowed.
02/07 - The 750 Word Project 2023 is in progress all of February, and open to all! Also, the Literotica Annual Valentine's Day Contest is on! Read the entries (new added daily!) and enter your V-Day tale for fame, fun, and a chance at cash prizes! Check out the upcoming open Literotica Author-Organized Challenges - On the Job 2023, Geek Pride 2023, and many more!! Congratulations to theWriterInTheNude, MsCherylTerra, TarnishedPenny - authors of the winning stories in the Literotica Annual Winter Holidays Story Contest! Happy 24th Anniversary, Literotica! Congratulations to thesebeadsofsweat, Voboy, FantasyPron - authors of the April 2022 Reader's Choice Awards winning stories! Another congratulations to all the winners and nominees in the 2021 Literotica Reader's Choice Awards! The Literotica Podcast is Available Now, so give it a listen on your favorite podcast provider! The New Literotica BETA includes font size customization AND Dark Mode! Check it out and tell us what you think! Find great stories using the newly designed Literotica Search and Literotica Tags Portal. Please send all bug reports or other feedback. If you like sexy sounds, stop in at our Audio Section, updated weekly. Don't forget that Literotica now offers streaming full-length movies where you can pay by the minute at Literotica VOD. If you haven't picked your favorite authors and stories, now would be a great time. We've launched the beta of our Favorite's Portal - here's a sneak peek. Literotica does not use pop-up ads anywhere on the site. If you see any pop-up ads or find yourself redirected to weird sites while visiting Literotica - or if you just want to check your computer for spyware, take our new Spyware Browser Test. The Literotica Mobile version is here. The Literotica Book is out, so go get a copy and tell your friends too. If you're in the mood for something naughty, you may want to check out our online toy & video shoppe. Feedback is always appreciated. Take care.
Juicy Sex Stories is a FREE source of high quality, 100% original erotic stories to juice up your love life.Our erotica is written by members of our passionate Juicy Community. Our community are a mix of experienced and new writers of erotic fiction. We are very proud of the fact that new writers use Juicy as the first place to put their work out into the public domain. Our experienced writers are always on hand to offer encouragement and help. We also promote our members sex story books for them.
We add new erotica to our site most days. Every story submitted by our members is checked by our moderators to ensure it is of high quality and complies with our submission guidelines. We also categorise our stories to make it easier for you to find what you are looking for.
Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows by Balli Kaur Jaswal is quite a genre bender. It has the hallmark elements of literary fiction blended with erotica and mystery. And while the erotica part makes it sound like a light topic, the book actually tackles serious themes like the othering of immigrants, age discrimination, claustrophobic communities, toxic honor and modernism vs tradition.
Bellesa is an erotica site that not only has videos, films and dating advice, but plenty of steamy stories to read as well. From short tales to full-length novels, your next nighttime read is waiting.
The seeds for the book, co-edited by Cheryl Lu-Lien Tan and Hilary Jordan, were planted in 2020 in the early stages of the pandemic. Amidst rising isolation and uncertainty, the pair decided to put together "brilliant, erotic short stories" from writers around the world, each also contributing a story.
The other 25 writers who have contributed to Anonymous Sex, untied from their names within the book, have innumerable accolades under their belts. The list includes the award-winning Edmund White, famed for stories of LGBTQ love; Man Booker-shortlisted poet Jeet Thayil; Guggenheim fellow Victoria Redel; journalist and GLAAD Award-winner Meredith Talusan; Iranian novelist Dina Nayeri; and award-winning and Booker-shortlisted Nigerian writer Chigozie Obioma.
It was well known among a certain class of person that Tony only wrote poetry while flying. Correction: he only wrote poetry while flying Concorde. He'd tried other airlines but it didn't work, not in economy and not in first class. The lines he ended up with were stroppy rather than bold, helium rather than liquid hydrogen, no liftoff, no payload, no sex. It was equally well known among a certain class that only while flying Concorde was Tony able to achieve an erection. As the plane reached the speed of sound, surpassed and doubled it, the lines would flow from his pen and his old man's penis would swell with a young man's blood. At the peak of his sexual life he flew from London to New York and back twice a month. When he heard they were retiring the aircraft, he was filled with such dread that he paused his business, canceled long-standing plans and hastily made new ones. He booked two seats from JFK to Heathrow and invited an old friend to join him, the actress who had first come to prominence when he was a young man, her famous cleavage and bee-stung pout on the cover and centerfold of the best men's magazines. It was October and the leaves were aflame, immolating themselves in the early sunshine, curling into yellow ash on the windshield of the BMW that took him to the airport. The driver sat impassive in his black suit and hat. Tony rode in the back as in a hearse, a dedicated passenger and scholar of the Concorde, the golden creation of the golden age of flight; and now here he was, in attendance at the death. It was the passing of the age of aspiration and nothing would be the same again. As he left the limousine and approached the counter at the airport, the sense of mourning that had gathered around him lifted slightly, and when Joan arrived, breathless, tottering, smelling of vodka and bergamot, he was unaccountably cheered by her tired eyes and expensive, outdated makeup. He saw her as she had once been, the starlet with the vertiginous eyebrows and unsmiling allure. When the great bird lifted into the sky it came to him in waves, the thrill of velocity, the fiction of gravity, the infinite lift, the sex (EXHILARATION = ACCELERATION, he wrote in his teal Concorde-only notebook), and he loved her as he had always loved her, without haste or understanding.
She signed up for frequent-flier miles and used them immediately. She flew too often for the free miles to make a difference. In between flying for work she flew for pleasure, without telling her family or colleagues, sometimes taking a return flight within hours. Some weeks she spent more time in the air than on the ground. One morning in Lucerne she typed 'best flight booking sites with metasearch' into the search window and found a message board and a community of people who flew all the time, purely for the pleasure of flight, who found the cheapest options from a seemingly limitless range and chose whichever destination took them farthest from their lives. And so she flew, for work, for pleasure, and for no reason at all, meeting others like her, men and women, in cities strange and familiar. In and out of Changi a few times a year, she came to know its butterfly park, a high forest bubble hidden among the endless walkways of the airport, and she learned the habits of the koi in the display ponds on the upper level. She took a seat on a curved bench and stared at the fish as they traversed the small space, the gorgeous blotches of orange and black, the speed at which they moved, submarining through the supreme element, breathing through their wide-open mouths, dreaming, she knew, of water; and she marveled at the easy synchronicity with which they paralleled and crisscrossed each other. On a beach in Vietnam she made the mistake of getting into the water, where she found garbage from all over the world, massed plastic detritus roiling in the foam, snaking against her feet. The water was brownish, with the rough solidity of oil, and she felt its strange and far-flung components break against her skin. What was there in those brownish or greenish wavelets that could harm her? This is what your body asks your brain when you feel no fear. From Singapore she flew to Kuala Lumpur, stayed one night in a backpackers' hostel, and booked a flight to Beijing because she found a heavily discounted ticket and had never been to China. At three in the morning she woke, thinking of the man she had met on the flight from Brisbane to Berlin, the flight that would determine the trajectory of her life. In the morning she walked to the central station and took an express train to the airport. The woman across from her held a small girl on her lap to whom she fed segments of an orange. The child stared at Alice, at her white blond hair, and began to cry. It wasn't until Alice smiled and took her small hands in hers that she stopped, though it seemed as if the tears might return at any moment. She rested her head against the seat and fell asleep and woke as the train came to a halt. Outside, the night was humid and reeked of intimacy in enclosed spaces. There was a little over an hour until her flight. She rushed through check-in and security and was one of the last people to board. From her seat she saw the luggage van, the busy tarmac lit up like a small city. And then the Boeing 777 shuddered into the sky. She was sipping her second whisky when she felt the plane swerve in the air, dizzyingly swerve and brake, and she thought it would stall and drop out of the sky, but it righted itself somehow, though the sea was no longer where it had been and then there was no land, only sea. What happened, a man said, his voice high with fear. This is normal, right? Is this normal? An attendant rushed down the aisle towards the cockpit, followed by another, and then the pandemonium began, the shouting and the cries. The man beside her calmly opened a pillbox and swallowed two white pills without water. He gave her the box when she asked. To steady the nerves, he said. The plane began to climb and gained altitude at a sickening speed. The curtain at the front was pushed to the side. A family ran in from business class clutching at each other. She felt anxiety rise like bile to her throat. A mass of passengers joined the attendants at the door to the cockpit, knocking with their fists, then kicking. But the door was firmly shut and no answer came from inside. Someone started to pray or moan, a low keening noise that rose to a shriek and abruptly died. The navigation map on her screen buffered and went dark, then put them on a route to Antarctica. She grabbed the man's hand and kissed him without shame as the plane began to tilt. 2ff7e9595c
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