N. Likes

This isn’t my writing, it’s that of a friend. But it’s hot, and so I share it with you: She appears, as so many of the subjects of my paeans do, on the bus I take to the gym. She’s…

Her suit is formal, grey. She’s too young for it. She’s in her twenties. The suit belongs on a forty-year-old. Doesn’t matter. She’s hot. Blonde, hazel eyes, clear skin, a fleshy, but not round face. Her blouse – a noisy…

Why do I lick your pussy? Do I do it to give you pleasure? Do I do it to persuade myself, and you, of my potency, of my power, of my skill? Do I do it in hopes of reciprocation,…

Generally, I would say fiction consumes fifteen to twenty percent of my reading attention. I aspire, always, to read more fiction, but in practice, I read what I read, and it adds up to a relatively small proportion of what…

Her hair, blonde, or rather, brown, but with peroxide kicking in two or three inches from her roots. Her skin, tan, smooth, glistening slightly. Her cheekbones, high. Her lips are thin, nearly non-existent, but painted salmon, delicately. Her eyelashes are…

There is something about the sensation of an erection. The feeling of my cock, straining, aching. I don’t always want to have an orgasm. No, sometimes, what I want is to have an hours-long erection. Viagra warns that if an…

Time was short. Circumstances were constraining. I didn’t want to come. She did. We each got our wish. We had corresponded for over a year, but never met. Our drink was quick. She is pretty, sexy. Her eyes danced with…

“Had I not met you I never would have had the chance to explore parts of myself that I never knew existed. It’s been a win win.  Or perhaps I knew somehow that they existed but never thought I could…

Her denim shorts are short. Her ass emerges from beneath them in all its round fullness. Her legs are dark, tan, muscular, meaty, lavishly, if monochromatically, tattooed. She wears a black crop top, pulled taut by her C-cup breasts, also…