Only In Porn

Cassie needs to commit a felony before the Beasts of Burden will admit her into the club as a full patch member. Her FBI handler provides her with the perfect crime to commit.

Biker Bitch
By
Michele Nylons

Chapter Three: Super Glide

Cassie completes her training as an undercover operative and prepares to rejoin her Motorcycle Club the Beasts of Burden. She practices her new seduction skills on plane ride home

Spin the Bottle

As the last one into the loft, I didn’t get a seat on the couch. Instead I found that someone on Tuesday had brought up a bunch of fluffy pillows, and a bright green inflatable chair. “That is never going to last,” I said, looking at it.

Big Davey laughed, “We alrealy had to patch it twice. It only cost twenty dollars though.”

“What are we playing?” I asked, eager to seem eager.

“Spin the bottle,” Bree said. “Wee David finished the app.”

Eat Like a Boy

***TRIGGER WARNING: Eating Disorders***

After a very confused night, I wasn’t sure Autumn would be at my door, and took my time getting breakfast. Then I heard Bruce honk outside, and had to grab my bag, figured I’d charge my phone somewhere, sometime, and rushed out the door.

I piled in the SUV and Autumn took off for the highway again. “It’s your turn to choose the music,” she said, hanging her cigarette hand out the window. “Something I’ve never heard before.”

Betty wakes-up laying on her back with Karen laying between her legs and using her abdomen for a pillow. They had gone to bed last night after she had breast feed Karen. Karen was still a little upset about what she had told her last night. She knew once Karen drunk her breast milk, it would put her asleep. Which she was right. As soon as Karen finished drinking from her, she had fallen asleep.

Secret Entrance

Rachel on her knees. Sarah unbuckling a belt. What does Regular Dave’s dick taste like? What does Big Davey’s cock feel like?

Don’tmasturbatedon’tmasturbatedon’tmasturbate.

Skirt

“Who’s going Aisling’s way?” Bree said.

I was sore all over. I had finished six platforms. Rachel sucked Regular Dave’s dick. We were walking out of the back parking lot, through the door under the stage. Night had fallen, and it was somewhere around not too late.

“Where does she live?” Sarah asked.

Traps aren't the only things that can be well-laid.

The most dangerous traps are the ones you don't want to escape from.

Therapy

“Do you believe me?” I asked Dr. Malmon. It was our fourth session together. I had just finished explaining Mr. Glome to him. I expected to hear the tired refrain, ‘I believe that you believe.’

“It’s hard not to,” The shrink said instead. “You gave me permission to consult with your doctors and other experts.” He paused and gave me a look, “I hope you’ll understand if I leave the extra dimensional aliens out of my consultations—but from what I’ve seen… your explanation is as likely as any other.

Staring

I woke to find my hands pressed in between my thighs. That should have been uncomfortable and wasn’t. It was comforting. I rolled over to go back to sleep and found that everything was wrong with my body.

Not that. That was still wrong, but I had woken up with some of the knowledge permeating my brain.

What was wrong was my breasts. One was half-in, half-out of it’s bra cup in one direction. The other was half-in, half-out at an opposing trajectory. One shoulder strap was on, the other was pinning my arm at my side.

Target

Target

I kept my arms crossed on the way out of the hospital. I kept my arms crossed in the car. I kept my arms crossed on the way inside. If I had died right there, I would have kept my arms crossed all the way to the morgue.

As a boy, I hated going through the women’s section of Target. It was hard to do without imagining everything that was supposed to fill in the underwear on the halls, hangers, shelves, and hooks. I always made me feel dirty.

In a world deep underground, factions fight for dominance over caves and dungeons.
Their struggle is old as dying for your faction does not mean the end.
However, it could mean that one might switch sides. In more ways than one ...

Alien

Joann stood as well and came over to my bedside, “You haven’t eaten for about a week, so I don’t know what the doctor wants to do, but it’ll be at least a day before you’re on real food again. Do you want me to get you a Popsicle?”

“That would be nice. Did anyone find my backpack?”

“It’s in one of the cupboards, would you like it?”

“Please?”

She went over to the cupboards on the wall and fished around until she had my backpack in her hands, and brought it over to my bed. “Do you want cherry or orange?”

“Cherry please.”

Gold Digger
By Vilastis

Marcus sighed. There was no way he was going to manage to make his rent this month.

Women had it so easy. They just had to flutter their eyelashes and some asshole with more money than sense would throw cash at them.

He had come to a decision. He opened a dating site and created a new profile. “Marcia.”

It’s been 36 hours. The hold is nearly empty, and the flood lights are back on for the second time. I know Tinoct has slept, and I went down for around six hours early this morning. I don’t think Hakho or Chinta has slept.

We’re ahead of schedule. The last of six convoys is here. The last truck is getting loaded. There are too many people to work on the last stack without getting in the way, so Hakho is supervising the last team.

I have a Mr. Coffee plugged in in the control bay, and I’m pouring myself a cup when Chinta comes over and rubs my shoulders a little bit.

I get a text when I step outside. It’s a selfie of Chinta, posing in front of a statue made of diapers. I think that means I should meet her near the statue made of diapers.

I look around for a statue made of diapers, then put my phone into the face of the nearest passerby. She nods like she’s seen it, and adds an expression like she’s seen everything. She’s young. It’s cute.

I give her the closest I can get to a “where is it?” expression, and she points further into the maze. I don’t even try, just set out in that general direction.

Dinner is yucca again. I’m feeling things about seeing Sacti, but she isn’t there. I’m worried, but this is a hotel so I put it out of my mind.

This time Chinta comes back to the room with me. I smell the sex in the room, which leads me to the thought that I desperately want a shower. I shed my cultural costume with a little bit of no idea what I’m doing.

Chinta immediately fastens onto one of my nipples, and murmurs, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you out of that,” as I cradle her head. We end up tangled in bed together.

It had to be one of the best weeks ever for me at Fashionable. Besides morning and evening yoga, I was able to have two dates a day like the one above. I don’t think my cryx ever felt that full or powerful before. I wouldn’t see Joshua again. It was somebody new each time. It was a cook or busboy at a local restaurant. It was a policeman working for the city of Chicago. It was always someone that seemed to be owed a favor for what was done to turn the other way at what we were doing.

I’m in the sun waiting for the train for about 15 minutes before the 5.0 show up. I see them from the top of the stairs. They aren’t wearing a uniform I recognize, but their body language says “cop” in every dialect. I make a quick calculus and decide that a night in the cells might make me conspicuous to the authorities, and decide to be somewhere else.

The area is a nice and egalitarian, there are stairs and platforms and walkways everywhere. Lots of places for the only human in a hundred miles to stay out of view.

Big Bertha hits the atmosphere like a ton of bricks. That’s not my fault, I’m a good pilot, but the atmosphere control isn’t broadcasting in a format Bertha can recognize, so I had to guess. The guess took an hour to make, but flight control had me cooling my heels for six while they got their shit together. My credentials are forged, so that doesn’t help. I’ve seen three gorgeous sunrises to make up for it.

I must be a good guesser because I don’t bounce off the atmosphere and die.