u/NinjaBass

Welcome to the Committee For Use Management! [FFFFF30s/MMM30s/F25/MMM24] [F/M/F] [F/M] [F/F] [M/M] [M/M/F] [Silly Degeneracy] [Free Use Office] [Group] [Consenting Voyeurism] [Oral] [Fingering] [Anal] [PiV] [Brojob] [2026 August Contest] [Image 18] [Tom's Challenge]

I check my watch as I press the elevator call button. Eight-thirty, right on time. Even before the door opens, I know I’m in for a good day--at least judging from the sounds coming from behind them.

I’m sure I’m right as they open to present Keri from the marketing department--I’d recognize those cute boyshorts anywhere, even when they’re precariously hanging off her leg. She’s being held with one leg off the ground, a hard cock sliding in and out of her ass. If her shut eyes and moaning pants are anything to go by, she’s getting pretty close.

I look behind her to see Troy, another committee member--his badge holder displaying a green stripe next to his ID, the same as mine. Judging by his face, he’s reaching his limit too.

“Need a hand?” I say, getting their attention.

“Allison!” Her next breaths are swallowed hard. “If you could just...” she points her free hand at her leaking pussy.

“Of course!” I look at Troy. He gives me a nod. “Don’t mind me... just focus on his fat cock buried in your ass...” I coo softly as I push between her legs. My hand is already spreading her wetness around.

As soon as I slide in a finger, I can feel her clench hard enough to lock it in place. A second later, Troy slams to the hilt as both struggle to breathe.

Extricating my finger proves to be a task. But a few soft kisses to her jaw let her relax enough to free it.

Eventually, the elevator hits my floor. I leave Keri to recover with a kiss on the cheek.

It always puts a little pep in my step--and a wetness to my crotch--whenever I see a committee member taking their role seriously.

I check my watch again--almost exactly eight-forty.

Twenty minutes ‘til stand-up. I’ve got time to grab a coffee after checking my emails.

I hang my ID badge holder on the little peg next to my old-fashioned calendar, letting it hang facing the door. I almost forget to swap the color strip to red--remembering just before I flump down into my chair.

It’s a few minutes of checking Slack and emails before my first visitor. Looking behind me, I see that it’s Josh from Dev Ops.

A warm smile spreads across his face just as his eyes fall on the red stripe on my ID. Without losing a beat, or the smile, he gives me a quick finger-gun. “Sorry! I’ll let you finish up. Find ya’ later?”

I give an apologetic shrug. “I’ve got orientation in the afternoon, rain check?”

He leaves with a quick thumb-up.

I turn back to the flood of emails. Stand-up, and the new hire orientation for the Committee for Use Management are the only ones I have for today, thank God.

Ten minutes until stand-up. Time for coffee.

I try to find our committee head, Vikki, as I make the rounds of ‘good mornings’ on my way to the coffee machine. I’m just passing the big conference room when a loud cry from inside reminds me where she is today--it’s the big department head meeting today. They're all probably gonna be stuck in that room all day.

But from the sounds of it, Vikki is doing a fantastic job representing the committee. Curiosity takes me, so I push the blinds out of the way for a quick peek.

The scene inside makes my breath hitch, and my legs squeeze.

Vikki’s bent over the big table near the projector screens--face pointed to my window, mouth clenched over her green-striped badge. She turns her head slightly to look at me and gives a wink and a smile.

The pencil skirt that always hugs her ass just right is roughly pushed over the swell of her hips. My angle at the window is perfect to see her leg thrown over the top of the table.

I can't help but imagine getting a taste of her on that table. The smooth fabric of my slacks is torturous to feel against my skin.

The presenter--some department head I’ve never bothered to meet--is pointing excitedly at the graphs on the screens with one hand. At the same time, the other is wrapped around her waist, pushing her away gently, his softening cock slipping out even as his cum leaves a wet trail down her thigh.

My foot hits the glass of the window as I lurch forwards unconsciously.

I have to get back to the coffee machine if I want to be on time. One last look leaves me with the sight of the next presenter--Keri’s boss, I think--flipping her over, and slamming in to the hilt.

The last thing I hear as I walk away is her begging him to fill her.

God, I’m glad I have the orientation later. I don’t think I could stand much more without jumping the next person to hang ‘round my cube.

I don’t know who the hell decided that daily stand-ups: A. had to be in-person, and B. had to take half an hour. My update takes less than twenty seconds before I slouch back in my chair.

More than a few times, I catch Celia next to me looking me over, letting her eyes linger on my hands.

Oh, what the hell, not like there’s anything else in the meeting worth paying attention to. I turn the stripe on my badge to yellow, making sure to get her attention at the same time.

The next team member starts taking an eternity to say nothing--again. A soft touch on the back of my hand draws me out of my spiral. Celia’s hand’s next to mine, palm up. I pretend that I’m smiling at whatever that guy just said, and not at the Slack I just got.

I just need a little more, got interrupted by this shit before I finished.

I place my hand on hers, letting her direct it to the open fly of her jeans. She wasn’t kidding! Her stringy little thong is completely soaked through.

Deftly, I brush past the barely present material, letting the pads of my fingers press firmly into the sopping lips behind.

Celia almost jumps off her chair when I find the button of her clit. She tries to act casual by sending another message.

Fuuuck yes! I need those inside.

And I’m happy to oblige. My middle and index dig effortlessly into her with a soft but unmistakable sound. Luckily the next person to speak is the project manager--nobody’s gonna hear anything over that guy.

The feeling of her around my fingers almost tempts me to offer up my own frustrated pussy. Every twitch tells me more than any Slack message--she’d be kneeling on the floor face deep before I finished typing.

I beat that thought down. I have to be fully ready and present for the new hires later. Not lost in a post-nut daze.

She stiffens when I push my fingers up towards the top of her channel. She manages not to make a sound outside of a distressed cough when she tightens around me. A few more strokes as I pull out leave her squirming in her chair.

You're a lifesaver, Allie!

It’s almost lunch by the time stand-up is done and I’ve responded to every inane email and requested status update. I send a quick Slack to Ellen.

We still on for lunch today?

It’s a few minutes before I get a reply.

Ye. In ThE Brek Rooom.

This should be interesting. I set my status to Away before I go on my way to find what the hell Ellen got herself up to this time.

I probably should have expected the scene in the break room just from her sloppy message.

Ellen’s sitting back on her haunches, throat deep on Cory from Product’s cock. His hand around her ponytail, dragging her almost off before shoving it all the way back in. Someone who walks by could almost be convinced that the gurgles and bubbling spit were the result of the coffee maker.

Her eye catches mine with a wink. She holds up a hand. Cory immediately lets her go and pulls away to lean on the counter--her hand continuing to stroke him from balls to tip.

“Hey, Allie!” She coughs up a few strands of spit. “Gimme one sec...”

She wraps her lips back around his cock head, rhythmically pumping the base.

I grin. “She loves it on her face, you know.” I thread my fingers under her hair tie, gently letting her take him deeper.

She nods enthusiastically, swallowing more of his cock. I watch his face, pulling her off just before he bursts. Each spasm of his sac paints ropes of white over her face. Spent, Cory slumps back to the counter top.

“Sorry about that, Allie, didn’t think that’d take that long.” He manages to breathe out.

“No worries!” I grab a few wet wipes from the counter behind him, handing them to Ellen. “I love watching her work a cock.” A little too much for how this day has gone. I nearly fell to my knees next to her for that load.

“Ready?” Ellen jumps up, still wiping strands of Cory off her face. I lean in and swipe a particularly thick drop from under her eye.

The walk back from the little sandwich cafe we love is uneventful. Ellen spends most of the time complaining about the constant change requests from Product, and I can’t help rolling my eyes at the Project Manager’s constant status updates.

“God, you’re so lucky that it’s your turn to do the orientation!” She swings her arms wide. “I got a good look at that gaggle of new college grads. There’s definitely potential there.”

I laugh. “You know we’re supposed to be encouraging their development as professionals, not just how well they can eat pussy, right?”

She shrugs. “Potato-potatoe--One comes with the other, I’ve found.” She nudges my ribs. “And I think a couple of them will definitely make you come today.”

“Is your cunt the only thing you think with?” I roll my eyes.

“Mostly.”

I spend the time before the new hires file in making sure the slides are in order. Last time Ellen did it, she skipped straight to the ‘practical’ part, leaving the broader information for the rest of us to give.

It’s exactly five past two when the group of new hires start to pack the small training room. Definitely some characters in this group. I clock a few of the ones who look like they’ll be... interesting.

Two guys walk in, arms around each other's shoulders, hair short and spiked, shirts barely tucked--looking like they just got off a bar crawl.

One woman stalks in with her nose so far in the air that I could almost see where the sense of superiority lives in her brain.

The last two walk in already talking like old friends. One of them’s a well-built man who looks comfortable, but not overconfident. His black hair is short, but not buzzed.

The other’s a shorter young woman, maybe slightly older than the man, around twenty-five. Glasses and shoulder-length curly brown hair give her a librarian vibe that is frankly doing it for me right now.

They take the only seats left--the middle of the front row.

I’m quiet for a few moments to let them all settle--and to notice that there is in fact someone up at the podium.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to the C. U. M. New Hire Orientation!” I pause for the characteristic snickering that always follows. The broskis don’t disappoint.

“I'm here to introduce all you new hires to the important workplace role the Committee for Use Management plays here.” I click to the next slide.

It shows an image of two figures in red with angry faces.

“We believe that a happy and unstressed office environment is a very productive environment.” I click to the next slide. Two new green figures appear next to the angry ones. “Thus it is the role of committee volunteers like myself to help everyone blow off steam.” Next slide, my favorite.

One of the green people is kneeling between the formless crotch of a red. And the other is bent over with the red figure holding them from behind.

There's a murmur of voices from the new hires. Bros One and Two are laughing and high fiving. Ms. Stuck Up is looking back and forth between everyone present--and completely failing to hide the hunger in her eyes.

The two up front are the only ones seemingly engrossed in what I have to say.

I go to the next slide. This one has a stylized traffic light.

“Of course, an office as one big orgy isn't productive at all.” I hold out my badge, still showing the yellow. “All committee members wear an easily identifiable badge displaying one of three colors.”

I point to the red light on the slide. “Red means don't even bother asking--we still have our own work to get through.” Moving to the yellow. “Yellow means ask first--we aren't so busy that we can't--but we might have restrictions.”

I give the room a wide smile. “Green means go for it! We're open and ready. If you want to fuck, we'll expect some foreplay, but really now, that just makes it better, right?”

I stop before continuing on.

“I will need a volunteer before we go into the next section. Any takers?”

To my complete non-surprise, the Bros are all talk. Nose-in-the-air is too stunned to even react.

The guy in the front gives a nudge and a whisper to his friend, the librarian. A few seconds later, she raises her hand slowly.

I gesture for her to step to the podium. “I'm Allison Walker.” I reach my hand out.

She shakes my hand. “Harriet...”

“Well, Harriet.” I stand up straighter to emphasize my badge. “What do you want?”

Her eyes dart to the yellow stripe next to my picture and back up to the slide. Her face flushes.

“Oh! Umm... hello, Allison.” She looks back at her seatmate. He gives her an encouraging smile. “Are you free for...”

“Absolutely! Thank you for asking!” Keeping hold of her hand, I guide her around to my side of the podium. “I do have one more thing to go over with everyone, so unfortunately I do need my mouth free.”

I pull her close so only she can hear me. “We don't have to actually do anything. Only if you want to.”

“I...” she pulls in even closer to my ear. “It's just, we thought...” she looks back at him.

I kiss her cheek. “Then why don't we take it a little slow. Touch me anywhere you want. A good show always goes a long way.”

Harriet steps behind me as I grab the remote again.

Her first touch is a hesitant, unfocused grab on my hip. I give a show of settling into her hand before I click over to the next slide.

“A common question is: how does this work in a stratified organization?”

Her hand starts to roam my stomach. The other slaps down on the top of my ass, the crack reverberating through the room.

“It's a good question, and one that has a heavy implication of the unfortunate aspect of coercion.”

The hand on my stomach reaches lower, the slow movements sending butterflies straight to my core. She stops at the buttons of my slacks. Without looking, I reach down and place her fingers just over the snaps.

“Go ahead, whatever you want to touch, remember?” I whisper behind me.

They’re open before I even finish speaking. She shoves her hand down to find the surprise I left for today’s volunteer--my trimmed and completely commando pussy.

“To combat this, we have a very strict rule about who can initiate...” I point to the presentation. But no one follows my finger--all eyes are on the hand moving beneath my pants.

“The easiest way to--” I have to stop as I nearly come. Harriet’s found my clit, and while clumsy, she’s persistent. “--approach the subject is a simple phrase.” I close my eyes as she presses on just the right part.

It takes a lot to continue without just screaming on her hand. “You can fuck upwards, but you can't screw down.”

“You're doing great, sweetie." I breathe. Her finger slides over my clit again, making me shudder. "Why don't you... Try going a little deeper."

She responds by pressing her finger into me up to the knuckle, curling it. The room reverberates from the sound of my hands bracing against the podium. Her other hand pulls at my pants, exposing the dip of my pelvis and the small triangle of hair that sits just above my soaked pussy.

The free hand doesn't stay idle. As soon as it finishes showing my glistening crotch to the whole room, it snakes under my blouse, pinching a nipple through the sheer lace bra underneath.

"To put it simply--f-fuck... Regardless of the card, Directors a-and direct superiors.” I catch a small scream. Damn, she learns fast. "Cannot initiate with a junior, but a junior or direct report can initiate upwards..."

She teases a second finger at my entrance. "Can I?"

I can already see hands moving under skirts and pants in the audience. At least one of them is bobbing her head over the lap of another. May as well let them get used to it all at once.

"Go ahead, honey." I push my ass back into her, spreading my legs behind the podium.

It takes a second of fumbling with my badge holder to get the color the right way out--Green. "Whatever you want to do, go for it."

I feel her shift behind me. At first I think she's gonna try to rip my shirt off, but instead she's grabbing one of the badge holders from the table. I follow her hands back to see her proudly wearing a green card between the curves of her chest.

"Good girl." I purr into her neck, shivering as her second finger shoves its way in. My hands roam behind me, finding the band of her adorable little skirt, fingers digging past to reach her.

She gives a small squeak as I find her clit. I almost miss it from how slick she is. She starts grinding against me, trapping my hand between us.

I let my hand sit against her, angled to catch her clit on every press. Her groans are muffled when she latches her mouth to my neck.

The hand smothering my breast releases to start popping the snaps holding my shirt closed from the inside. Halfway through, I reach up and rip them open in one motion--in my line of work, ease of access is paramount.

Taking her hand, I guide it to the simple front clasp holding the scant fabric closed. A quick pinch and it falls away, letting my breasts breathe for the first time today.

She gives up on grinding against me. Her fingers dig deeper with every slap of her palm into my pussy. Her free hand roams from nipple to nipple--squeezing, rolling, and pinching.

The fingers inside pull out to continue rubbing my inner lips. “Allison?” Her voice is equal parts apprehension and lust. “I need...” she stops with another sweet moan as I let my middle finger press in.

I pull out a little as I spin to press her against my chest.

“What do you need?” I curl my finger inside a little, drawing a wonderful breath from her lips. “I can do. Anything. You. Want.” I punctuate each word with a deliberate thrust inward.

She writhes under my fingers. “I-I...”

I switch to slow curling motions. “You can tell me...”

“I need you to lick my pussy!” She finally pushes the words out. “Please?”

I run the fingers of my free hand down her chin. “Then why don't you take those cute little panties off and get comfortable for me.” I give her a gentle push into the forgotten chair sitting behind the podium.

She doesn't just take her underwear off. She rips the whole skirt down, panties and all. In a moment she's on the edge of the chair, legs splayed, presenting her perfect, puffy pussy-- delicately crowned with a curly patch of brown hair.

It doesn't take me long to shrug the open shirt and bra off, while I finish pulling my slacks all the way to the floor.

One of Harriet’s hands is groping a breast over her polo. The other is two fingers deep in her cunt, slowly stroking herself as she watches me strip for her.

From the corner of my eye, I watch the reactions of the rest of them. All but a few are currently too busy to watch the free show. The two cocky bros are too busy stroking the other through their pants. The stuck up looking one has grabbed a green card--I think she’ll fit right in with how vocally she’s enjoying the attention from her two neighbors.

Only the man in the front row--the one who came in talking to Harriet--has kept his eyes on us. This could be fun...

I sway my hips wide as I take the few steps to the chair, letting my eyes rake over Harriet, soaking in every hitch and tremble.

Sinking to my knees, I take the hand she has been using to play with herself and thread it into my hair.

“You can use my mouth however you want, Harriet.” My hands run over the soft, wet skin of her thighs. “It's all for you.”

Gently, she pulls my head in, letting my parted lips graze her slick ones between her legs. The groan she gives has my clit throbbing. Turning my head slightly, I catch the eye of the man in the front row. A quick shake of my ass gets him half standing--he starts almost sprinting when I spread my lips for him.

Harriet pulls my head back to her with a needy sound--a sound that I banish quickly with a languid drag of my tongue across the hood of her clit.

“Oh sweetie, I'm just getting started.” My next touch is a long suck over the same place, dragging another squeal.

Another pair of hands runs over the flesh of my ass, grabbing at the dip of my hips. I don't think he'll have any trouble amusing himself--just like I am with Harriet.

My ministrations bear fruit as her other hand comes down to frame the side of my head.

Something wet and warm slides up the valley of my pussy. I arch into Mr. Front Row’s mouth, letting my humming moan pass into the cunt under my lips.

The little noises she’s making grow louder as I circle my tongue over her clit. My hand makes enough room to dig two fingers into her--her nails scratching into my scalp let me know I hit the sweet spot. The tongue behind me switches to plunging as far as my cheeks let him.

I hear him already fighting with his belt buckle.

“It’s all yours.” I rub my thumb over Harriet’s clit--being rewarded with another wonderful sound. “Thanks to her, I’m ready to take whatever you’ve got.”

Before I drop my head back down, I let him know. “No need to be gentle, just give me every fucking inch.”

The hands on my ass push it lower, spreading my legs even further. The head of his cock slaps against the top of my clit, jolting me forward into the pussy in front of me. From how she’s barely breathing, Harriet isn’t gonna last much longer. The ache in my cunt makes me try to slide that cock over my lips, desperate to let him fill it.

He holds my ass still mid-slide and presses the thick head against my entrance. Slowly it pushes forward, letting me adjust to him. The instant the crown is inside, he stops--before snapping his hips forward. His thighs meet my cheeks with a wet smack and a pussy-stifled scream from me.

It only takes a few halting thrusts for him to fuck me properly. Long strokes bleed into jagged pumps. Harriet is openly staring at where his cock is disappearing between my ass-cheeks, hand still pressing me into her cunt.

His hand leaves my hip to push my head deeper into her thighs, fingers entwining with hers.

Her pussy clenches, telling me everything before her cry does. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuck!” I keep my fingers moving, letting her ride the wave down. I lay down soft kisses across her pussy.

Without Harriet I’m free to fuck him back fully. I start to meet each stab of his cock with a slap of my hips. My cunt squeezes him with every impact. We don’t bother to try to say anything--he’s too busy trying to fuck Harriet through me, and I’m burning up too much to think about anything but his cum.

The woman beneath my hands shifts, sliding out of the chair onto her knees. She pushes my chest up by my head. Her head pushes down and slams her mouth down on mine--tongue instantly pushing its way against mine. Her hands find my breasts, restarting the caressing she stopped what felt like hours ago.

Pulling away, Harriet looks me in the eye. “You want him to come in you?” I love it when someone takes my mentoring to heart.

Panting, I can only nod.

“You see that, Ken? Give her what she wants!” Her hand comes down sharply on my ass, making me clench. “Just save some for me.”

The wannabe librarian’s a woman after my own heart--if you can lick it out of her.

It doesn't take more than a few staggered thrusts before I feel him swell and unload his cock inside. The sudden rush of warmth forces a strangled moan into Harriet’s mouth, my cunt pulsing with each explosive rope of cum he shoots into it.

I lock up in her arms. An entire day of desperation floods through me as Ken continues with short strokes, making sure every inch inside is coated with him.

It takes me a few seconds of labored breathing to tell them, “I think you are gonna fit right in.”

Harriet giggles softly before she helps me into the soaked fabric of the chair. I let my hand slowly massage my used cunt as I get a good view of how well my lesson has taken hold.

Bro One’s blowing Bro Two while his hand works another hire’s pussy. Ms. Stuck Up has moved on to getting sandwiched by two cocks and looking absolutely ecstatic about it.

Harriet and Ken? Looks like they’ve found the lube and are about to start round two right up her ass, on top of my desk even!

“God, I love Mondays!”

Jeez, think there's enough tags? This is my entry for both the August 2026 Contest for Image 18. As well as answering Tom's random prompt challenge.

u/NinjaBass — 3 days ago

▲ 14 r/eroticliterature

One More Soul to The Fog [M20s/F20s] [Surreal] [Erotic Suspense] [Atmospheric] [Acquaintances to... Something] [Long] [PiV] [2026 August Contest] [Image 17]

Summary: Oliver has recently returned to his hometown and the lucid nightmares he had there have returned. His mother booked a supposed witch to help. He reluctantly agrees to meet them. He goes to the appointment expecting either a creepy crone or a genuine loony. Turns out it's his old classmate.

I rolled my eyes as I got yet another call from my mother.

"Yes, I'm on my way. No, I still don't think this will do a damn thing. I love you too." I hung up.

Mom meant well, but sometimes she bought into the mumbo-jumbo surrounding this town. Like hiring a self-described witch from the classifieds.

I waved my arms trying to clear some of the lake fog in front of me. While it had been ever-present when I was growing up here, it was thicker than I could ever remember it being.

I almost stumbled over the steps to the apartment where I was supposed to meet this so-called witch.

It cleared enough for a lounging figure to come into focus. I didn't know what exactly I was expecting when my mom called this morning saying she booked a "specialist" to help with my nightmares.

Normally, when you pictured someone who called themselves a witch you thought of some old crone, or someone in a bad Party City costume.

But that wasn't the woman crouched on those steps.

The fuzzy natural fabric of her short, side-laced dress seemed almost a dare against the damp chill; her bare shoulders were covered in a half-sleeve of tattoos. Belted thigh-highs exposed the tops of her long legs.

What really drew my eye was the wide-brimmed and conical hat that sat on top of her shoulder-length raven-black hair.

Either she was the person I was looking for, or she got lost on her way to winning a costume contest.

I stood there for a few seconds before I realized my mother had never told me their name. There was something familiar about her, however.

Her visible eye looked over at me, widening slightly.

"Ollie?" Her contralto voice lilted. I hadn’t heard that nickname since—

She turned fully to face me. I did know her!

"Amelia?" I blinked a few times. “When did you come back?”

Her face brightened as I said her name.

She jumped up from the stairway, stumbling as her high-heeled foot caught on a crack in the concrete.

"I was gonna ask you that!" she stuttered. "Sorry, I mean... I’m assuming you’re the one I’m meeting?"

I tried to hide my smile by brushing a hand through my hair.

"I... think so?" I spread my hands. "Was the person who booked you named Margaret?"

Amelia nodded, still smiling. "She said it was for her son—I'll be honest I was expecting a little kid." She held her hand out to show how tall she expected her client to be.

"I didn't really know what to expect, to be honest." I shrugged. "The hat’s a nice touch by the way."

She pushed the brim out of her eyes. "Isn't it? People expect a certain look nowadays."

The sound of her feet hitting the sidewalk was swallowed by the dense fog swirling around us.

"Well..." She looked at me expectantly. "Ready?"

I glanced to both sides. "For what? Mom didn't really tell me anything."

Her shoulders and eyes rolled at the same time. "For your interview. I can't really help if I don't get to know you—well, more like catch up in our case."

She walked to my side. "Come on, there's a good tea place where we can sit for a bit."

The cafe was only a short trek, but felt like we slogged through the mist for miles.

"Has it gotten worse? I don't remember it being so thick."

Amelia took a few moments to answer. "It's only been this bad for the last few weeks."

She kept her face forward, but I could see the set of her brow.

“Everything okay?” I tried to peer around the brim of her hat.

“Hm? Yeah... yeah.” Amelia shook her head, giving me a small smile.

I didn’t buy that for a second.

I followed her through the hand-painted door of the cafe. It was cozy and warm—if a little cramped. Amelia didn’t wait for someone. She just swept over to the nearest table. Her hat hit the top of it at the same time she flopped into one of the wooden chairs.

“Take a seat.” She waved at the opposite chair. “I’m a regular, don’t worry.”

I sat down.

“So.”

She snorted. “So. What brings you back here? You were gone by the time I came back.”

I winced. “I stayed for almost three years while I took care of my grandma after grandpa died. We thought she was getting better so I left for college.” I shrugged. “That lasted for about a year, until I got a call from my parents.”

“Did she—?”

I shook my head. “No, she’s still alive, but she fell asleep one night in the middle of June and hasn’t woken up. They’re taking care of her up at the old hospital she used to work at.”

My fingers drummed on the table as I continued. “Mom and Dad didn’t tell me until it was almost the start of the new semester, luckily I was able to work it out with my adviser. No room at home so I’m stuck in our rundown lake house.”

The easy smile faltered. “You live on the lake?”

“Live is a strong word—I exist there for as long as it takes to sleep and wake up. I shower at the YMCA.”

She laughed. “Ouch.”

“What about you? You seemed pretty eager to leave.” I turned the question around on her.

“I managed for a few years, things didn’t work out so I had to come home.” Her tone was a little more clipped than it had been before.

“You still talk to anyone from back then, like...” I waved my fingers. “Your friend, the one who got you guys suspended.”

She held her head with her hand, shadowing her eyes. “Kiera thought that it was perfectly appropriate to try to recreate Carrie on the graduation stage” She took a deep breath. “We got lucky that it was only fake blood, and that she forgot what day graduation actually was...”

She looked up as a waitress came over. “Pot of the house blend and two cups, please.”

They nodded and walked away.

Amelia leaned forward. “And no, I haven’t talked to her since I left town. When I came back everyone said she had skipped town without a word not long after you left. Same story with almost everyone else we knew who stuck around.”

Her face hardened. “I tried my best to check with other towns and out of state friends. Nothing.”

She made a conscious effort to relax. “How long have you had the nightmares?” Amelia tented her fingers, her elbows resting on the table.

Oh boy.

“They started not long after we graduated, had them pretty consistently ever since.” I sank back in the chair. “They stopped as soon as I left for college. Came right back the first night I spent in town.”

The waitress returned with a tray laden with a teapot and cups.

Amelia looked at her. “Thank you.” She turned back to me. “Any specifics about what’s in them? Do you remember anything?”

I took a moment before answering.

“Bits and pieces. Sometimes they felt like they took place in areas I’d been to that day.” I stopped for a second, trying to remember. “Just with fog everywhere.”

She sat up straighter. “Fog?” Her eyes darted to look at the door. “Any other details? People? Weird things?”“Sometimes I was... well, naked. But most times I wouldn’t remember why I was scared to go back to sleep, just that I couldn’t.”

Her face flushed a little at my admission. “A-any triggers or things that you did that always seemed to cause them?”

I poured a cup of tea while I tried to think. “I guess?” This place clearly didn’t believe their tea needed anything with it. I couldn’t find a sugar cube to save my life. “They always seemed to happen when...” I trailed off. Am I really going to have to tell her?

“When?” She cocked an eyebrow.

It was my turn to hold my head. “When I went to sleep either very... aroused, or having just... dealt... with it.” Jesus Christ, on most days you would have had to torture that out of me.

When I looked up, Amelia had frozen, her cup an inch from her lips. The flush had crawled all the way across her face.

“Ugh... sorry, forget I said anything.” I buried my eyes in the dark liquid in my cup.

She coughed. “No! No, it’s fine, that’s important to know... probably... any specific incidents you can remember?”

“I guess the worst night I can remember was probably after the first time I...” I let it trail off.

“...Had sex?” She finished it.

I nodded. “That was the worst one, even she couldn’t sleep afterwards. Ended up with both of us just going back to our homes. Hell of a way to celebrate turning twenty, huh?”

“So she felt the same unease? Or was it your experience of the nightmare that made her uncomfortable?”

“She woke up before I did, neither of us really talked about it, or to each other after.”

Amelia leaned back and finished off her cup. “Thanks, I’m sorry that it got that... personal, usually doesn’t go that way.”

I drained mine as well. “Don’t worry about it, we’re all adults here.” I felt better about it after airing it out.

She stood up, collecting her hat. “I’ll take care of the bill, but that’s all I needed for today.”

I clambered out of mine. “Should I give you my number? Probably not a great idea to keep using my mom as a go-between.”

“Oh! Right, I was gonna ask before... yeah.” She dug around in her small purse. “I have a business card here... somewhere.” She pulled out a crumpled piece of cardstock, the design on it matching the tattoos on her shoulder, handing it to me.

“Just give that number a text with your name and I’ll add you.”

I took the card and turned to the door. I could have sworn that I saw wisps of fog coming under the frame.

When I walked out into the open air it was almost like slamming my face into a snowdrift. A nearby traffic light was almost completely invisible save for the shifting colors.

I must have stood there for longer than I thought because Amelia appeared by my side. She didn’t say anything, but what little I could see of her face—lips pressed tight, eyes shadowed under the hat, said enough. She gave me a thin smile before she turned and disappeared into the white blanket surrounding the town.

I sighed and started to blindly make my way back to the parking lot I’d left my car in.

It was late afternoon by the time I got back to the lake house. The fog had started to clear somewhat a few minutes after I left Amelia, enough that driving wasn’t a hazard to everyone around me.

The area around the house was almost always free of the mists. The shores of the lake itself were visible, but the rest of the lake was obscured by white.

Muttering to myself, I forced the door with a practiced shoulder-push after unlocking it. The inside of the house was as unwelcoming as always. The furniture was old-fashioned back when my parents were my age, and the kitchen was little more than a range and a separate oven. And I was still working on getting the shower unclogged.

I pulled my phone out. Might as well send that text before I collapsed.

Hey Amelia, this is Oliver *

I stared at it for a few moments, before I dropped it on the couch.

“Why the fuck did I tell her that? Jesus Christ.”

I flopped down next to it a few seconds later. This had been nothing but a waste of time. It was fun seeing Amelia again, but there was nothing she could do about the nightmares. My parents had every expert and quack in the Northeast poke around my skull.

But damn if she hadn’t changed a lot in the last few years. My last memories of her and her friend group were that they had been the weird kids. Not bad or unpopular, just... weird. The incident near graduation hadn’t helped that impression.

I didn’t realize I was falling asleep until my eyes were already too heavy to keep open. The last image in my head was Amelia sitting on the steps, waiting for me.

I was in the bedroom of the lake house, at least it was what my brain told me. It was too big and too small at the same time. I looked down. Great, one of the naked ones. I was standing by the bed. Normally I would be in it—at least I thought so.

I looked out the window. White fog as far as the eye could see. None of the trees that normally ringed the property were visible at all.

I hadn’t been completely honest with Amelia earlier—I could usually remember more about them. Like the constant feeling of someone being right behind my shoulder, sometimes they touched me. I couldn’t feel them there at that moment. But that wasn’t unusual, sometimes they liked to wait.

Just like every other time I could remember, I pinched the skin on my arm. Nothing, just like always, no pain, and no waking up either.

The door to the rest of the ‘house’ was open. I walked through it, hitting the fog that waited just outside the threshold.

I found myself outside the apartment building where I had met Amelia. The only thing I could see were the steps she had been sitting on earlier today.

Amelia wasn’t there—obviously—no one ever was in these nightmares. Just me and who, or what, kept me here.

I almost missed her hat hanging off the wrought iron fence, blowing in a non-existent wind.

I reached for it before I even thought about it.

It was heavy. The velvety fabric soft to the touch, but still relatively rigid due to how thick it was. This was definitely new. Nothing that belonged to someone else ever showed up—hell, usually nothing I owned appeared either. I decided to take it with me. If nothing else I could use it as a cover just in case someone was actually here.

I could have sworn I heard something behind me. I looked back over my shoulder. The fog was being thrown around something that was moving quickly. What it was I couldn’t see—nor did I want to stay to find out.

It felt like running through syrup. Every step more an act of will than physical exertion. The watching feeling was back, though this time it seemed like it wasn’t focused on me for the first time I could remember.

I looked back to see where it was. I couldn’t see the movement anymore—but that didn’t stop me.

Right up to when I slammed into a door. It was the same cheerfully handpainted wood from the cafe. I flung it open and stepped through in one motion, slamming it just as quickly. I fell against it, sliding to the ground in exhaustion, my eyes closing as I caught my breath.

There was nothing to feel from the other side of the door. No body pounded against the barrier. No scratches against wood. Just silence, even the watched feeling fell away.

I shifted my weight and frowned. I wasn’t sitting on the polished hardwood of that cafe. My ass was sinking into dirt. I opened my eyes. I hadn’t been here today—I hadn’t been here in years. I was maybe thirty yards from a houseboat docked on a pier.

The last time I had seen it was our graduation after-party. The valedictorian’s parents owned it. If I recalled correctly, I spent most of that night sitting on the dock itself. The air filled with the soft sound of the lake water lapping against the pier and boat.

I groaned as I pulled myself off the forest loam. I figured I might as well take a look—not like the dreams ever ended on my terms anyway. My foot hit the wood planks of the dock as soon as I took a single step forward—that was starting to get old.

I wasn’t alone on the pier. I could just barely make out the form of another person on the far end, nearest to the boat. They were sitting, swinging their legs over the placid water.

The planks creaked as I speed-walked towards them. As I got closer the figure became clearer.

It was a woman, with shoulder-length hair. I stopped as I realized she was as naked as I was. Oddly, I didn’t really feel like that mattered. I stepped forward again, drawing a particularly loud rasp from the worn wood.

She looked back. “Kiera? Is that you?” Her contralto was flecked with an edge just below the calm.

“Sorry, just me.” I walked beside her, offering the hat. “Think you dropped this.”

Amelia took it absentmindedly. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same thing, this is my nightmare.”

Her eyes looked me up and down. “Normally when a naked guy’s in my dreams he’s too busy to dispute whose dream it is.”

I let out a small laugh. “And normally there’s no one around to back-sass me.”

Silence reigned for a few moments after that.

“You’re the real Oliver, aren’t you?”

“Far as I know, yeah. You real too?”

She nodded.

“So. How long?” I sat down next to her.

“What?”

I leaned back on my hands. “You don’t seem too surprised to find yourself here, only that you aren’t alone.”

Amelia lay back on the gnarled wood, grimacing slightly. “A few weeks, every so often I spend most of a night here just staring out at the fog. Listening to the water.”

There was something nagging at the back of my mind. “Why here? You weren’t here that night.”

Her face twisted. “I was still grounded after Kiera’s attempted little stunt.” She looked around at the rest of the scenery, her eyes landing on the houseboat. “Was that light on when you got here?”

I followed her gaze. The middle window of the top floor was shining with a faded yellow light. As soon as I looked, the feeling of being watched came back ten-fold.

“I don’t think so...”

Amelia leapt to her feet. “Well, somehow I doubt this will end unless we take a look, yeah?” She reached her hand down to me.

I didn’t like it. Tonight had been far more cat-and-mouse than any night before. And never had anything or anyone ever been present before. But it wasn’t like I really had any choice in the matter.

I took her hand. Her warmth made me suddenly aware of how cold it was around us. She seemed to take notice as well. Both of our bodies were covered in goosebumps in a split second.

For my part, I was glad she wasn’t paying attention to below the waist. I felt like I had just jumped in a pool of ice cubes. And I was sure that was reflected outwardly as well.

As she helped me stand, I couldn’t help but catch an eyeful of her from knees to head. The newfound chill had definitely hit her too. I squeezed my eyes shut before it became too obvious.

I opened them again when I felt stable on my feet. She still hadn’t let go of my hand—in fact, her fingers had woven their way around mine.

“Let’s go.” Amelia gave my hand a squeeze, her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Keep close to me.”

She set the pace to the gangplank leading onto the houseboat, gently dragging me along by the hand. I tried to keep a respectful distance, but anytime I lagged too much she yanked me forward.

The houseboat itself was exactly as I remembered it. Kitschy rich-person decor, lots of wood paneling and glass-topped tables. The faint moonlight made details hard to see.

“Is this what it actually looked like?”

I shrugged. “More or less.”

I saw the edge of her lip curl. “Kinda glad I was grounded to be honest.”

“You really didn’t miss much. I spent most of the night on that pier.”

“Speaking of closets, think you could imagine one up? I’m freezing my tits off in here.” I almost missed her eyes darting downward. “And you don’t seem like you’re faring much better.”

I rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t work like that, I’m not the one coming up with the scenery. And hey, at least you have a hat.”

She conceded the point with a slight nod, said hat still being clutched in her other hand.

I stepped directly beside her, our arms grazing. “The stairway up should be just past the kitchen area.” I pointed to the small hallway leading deeper in.

As we pushed further, the only sounds I could make out were our own breathing and the gentle slap of water against the hull. We reached the tight staircase after only a minute.

I turned to the wall to sidle past Amelia, reluctantly letting go of her hand at the same time. “I’ll go first, it stays this tight the whole way upstairs.” I reached my hand back out to her. “Stay close, alright?”

She wrapped her hand around my forearm, pulling herself against my back. “I-if you are the real Ollie, let’s meet here tomorrow morning.”

I froze for a second—partly because the shock her warm body sent through the chill, and partly because I was still unsure if this was actually Amelia.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the end of the pier.”

I felt her nod. We started to climb the short set of stairs.

It wasn’t hard to find the right room once we crested the stairs. The only show of light came from under the doorway of the middle room on the left side of the hallway.

We stopped just within arm’s reach of the knob. Our eyes met.

“Remember, tomorrow, on the pier,” Amelia said.

I nodded at the same time as I grabbed the doorknob. It turned silently before the door started to open.

I bolted upright, sending the phone skittering across the floor. The sky was dark through the windows. I quickly glanced at the analog clock on the wall. It was nearly ten at night.

I tried to recall what had happened, but all that kept coming back were old graduation memories and the words tomorrow, on the pier. It had something to do with the nightmare, something had been different this time.

I stood, my muscles protesting. “Might as well do something productive, not like I’m gonna sleep the rest of the night.” I said out loud to nobody.

My phone buzzed on the floor, a text.

Thanks, Ollie. Amelia *

I grabbed it off the floor, opening it to the conversation. Just underneath her last message I saw the typing icon appear for a few seconds before vanishing.

A press on the side button turned the screen off. I would text her back tomorrow when I got back from the dock. For now, I focused on remembering where I left off with unclogging the shower.

That morning I was so consumed with trying to pull anything else out about last night’s dream that I barely noticed that the water heater wasn’t working—at least for the first few minutes of using the newly unclogged shower.

Amelia hadn’t finished whatever she was going to say last night.

I was still distracted when I pulled out of the half-collapsed barn that served as my garage.

As I pulled into the bare ground of the parking area, only one other car was present. The area itself had seen better days, most of the ground had been reclaimed by the forest, and the fence that led down to the water was mostly just posts now.

The trail hadn’t done any better than the parking lot. Following it felt more like going on a nature hike than a jaunt down to a lakeside.

The houseboat was long gone. I didn’t even know if the owners still lived here. There was just the gnarled wood of the pier jutting out into the water. Every step closer seemed to make the rolling mist from the lake thicker and thicker.

My foot hit the wood with a hollow thunk. A wave of deja vu hit me as I squinted at the figure idly swinging their legs over the water.

I closed the distance, the figure became clearer. She—I was pretty sure it was a woman—had a familiar-looking hat sitting next to her.

“Amelia?” The feeling that this had happened before kept building.

Her head snapped back to look at me. She scrambled to her feet. She wasn’t wearing the same outfit today. Just a tight black t-shirt, and matching cargo shorts, and a plain pair of sneakers. Her smoky make-up was smudged and half wiped away.

I was not prepared for her to torpedo into me. “Oh, thank God!” Her arms wrapped around mine.

The instant I felt her skin touch mine, bits and pieces of last night’s dream filtered back to my mind. The hat, running through the door, seeing her sitting on the dock, the light, and finally the door.

As best I could, I wrapped my forearms around her waist, keeping my touch light.

“It was you!” She shouted into my chest.

“Yeah, it was me.” I was still trying to sort all the fragments of the dream back together.

Amelia stepped back, blushing fiercely. “How is this more awkward when we actually have clothes on?”

“God only knows, that was the first time I’d ever had someone show up, let alone actually be a real person.”

She turned back to the lake, her hand finding mine, pulling me with her. “Come on, we should probably talk.”

We both sat on the edge of the dock, letting our legs dangle a few feet from the water.

“What day was it when you came back?” She stared out over the lake.

“Fifteenth of September, had my first nightmare in a year the same night.”

She paused. “So did I... well not really a nightmare. But that was the first night I ended up sitting here.”

I looked at her. “Before last night, the last one was three days ago. What about you?”

“Same...”

We sat there for a few minutes, she wove her fingers into mine.

“Hey, sorry for this, but you said they often happen after...you go to bed, um, horny, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the only thing I know that it’s consistent about. Why?”

The pink flush on her cheeks came back as she kept her face out to the water. “J-just making sure I remembered that correctly.” She cleared her throat. “But it does give me an idea.”

Oh lord.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?”

“And you mentioned that one of your... partners was seemingly affected as well, right?”

“My only partner that I ever had here in town I guess, specifically speaking.”

I didn’t miss the slight tremble in her fingers clutched in mine.

“Since we know that it’s possible for us to share that...” She waved her hands. “Space, we can try to see if the other can be with you from the start, right?”

“Yes...”

“So, what seemed to allow someone else to be affected was, um... intimacy—physical intimacy.” She finally looked over at me. “So what if it’s two people who are already involved?”

My throat closed. Was she actually—?

“Amelia... stop me if I’m off base. But are you...?” I fumbled for the next words. Jesus, she was right—how was this more awkward than when we were running around naked?

She let out a long-held breath. “I... would like to have sex—with you—to try and understand what’s going on, of course.” There was a mischievous glint in her eye. “And stop me if I’m off base. But I don’t think you hate the idea, right?”

“I’m not going to sit here and lie and say I’m not incredibly attracted to you.” I stopped to gather myself a little more. “But, fuck, that’s a lot to throw at a guy less than a day after catching up.”

“I know! And I’m sorry, but there’s something wrong in this town. And what other explanation do you have for all this?!” She threw her hand out across the view of the lake. “I don’t think it’s your fault, but I do think you’re a big part of it.”

My face tightened—there was more to this than just a job.

“You’re still looking for her, aren’t you?” It was my turn to squeeze. “Kiera.”

Her fist slammed on the cracked planks. “I know her! She wouldn’t just skip town without a word to anyone! Those bastards didn’t even try to look for her, or the others!”

It took me a few breaths to fully center myself. It seemed crazy—no it definitely was—but forty-eight hours ago I thought I was just nuts. And now for the first time there was someone who had actually experienced my... condition firsthand.

“Okay. We’ll try your idea.”

Amelia threw her arm around my neck. “Thank you!” She smelled like lilac and some kind of sweet berry.

“Ground rules though—we stop if either of us gets even a bit uncomfortable, we use a condom, and we don’t treat it as a means to an end.”

She shifted, bringing her lips near to my cheek. “Agreed.” She pressed her mouth to my ear and whispered. “You don’t have to worry about that last one—I liked what I saw last night, and I think you did too.” She kissed my cheek before pulling back to stand up, grabbing her hat.

“Tonight, yeah?” Amelia asked.

She was really not one to waste time, was she?

“My place or yours?” How fast I needed to clean up depended on the answer.

Her mouth scrunched as she thought. “You’re living on the lake right now, right? Your place.” She turned around to walk back to the cars. “Text me the address, and what time you want me there.”

I nodded. Alright, not a lot of time, but enough that I could grab the necessities and maybe something for dinner before heading home.

It had taken a couple of hours to make it back to town and grab what I needed from the local Walmart. Stouffer’s Lasagna and the first pack of condoms I could find.

I had sent Amelia the directions to the house, and that she could come over anytime after five. She had replied with a thumbs-up and a winky face.

I spent the rest of the time trying to make sure the house was somewhat presentable, at least making sure the toilet worked.

Only a few minutes after I put the frozen package in the oven, I started to smell the acrid stench of something burning.

“Oh what the fuck—“ I scrambled to open the kitchen window. Clearly no one had bothered to clean the oven in the past years.

I had just clicked the oven off and pulled the lasagna out when I heard a car pull up outside. I was already at the door by the time my visitor knocked. The window by the door provided a good view of the porch.

Amelia had changed, the casual t-shirt and shorts were gone. Replaced by the same side-laced dress and thigh-highs she had worn the day before. She had kept the sneakers though.

The instant I opened the door, she burst out in a laugh.

“Did you go all around town without washing your face?” she managed through fits of laughter.

Not exactly what I expected to be perfectly honest.

“I guess, why?”

Her lips curled into another smile before she licked her thumb and rubbed it across my cheek. She frowned.

“Well, all that did was smear it. They really mean it when they say waterproof, don’t they?”

“Mind telling me what the heck you’re on about?”

Amelia just pulled her phone out and handed it to me already on the selfie camera. There was a smudged but still very recognizable mark of a set of lips on my cheek, imprinted in the same dark color as her lipstick.

“Have I seriously been wearing that all day?” I muttered.

She laughed again. “I dunno, I kinda like it. In fact—“ She swooped in and planted another kiss on my other cheek. “There, evened you out.”

Her head raised as she sniffed. “You made dinner?” She cocked her head at me.

My face burned. “Well... yeah.” I stumbled over my words. “Like I said—I don’t want it to just be...”

I stopped as she looped her arms over my neck. “I know. It’s sweet.” Her lips pressed against mine.

My entire world became the smell of lilac and berries for a few moments until she released me.

“But right now, I want you. Bad.” She ran her hands over the back of my neck. She dropped her head, capturing my lips again. “All you have to say is you want me back, and I’m yours.”

I kicked my leg out to knock the front door closed. “God, more than you know.” My hand ran down the side of her dress, fingers catching on every laced strip, stopping on the soft skin of her exposed thigh.

“Besides, if this doesn’t work, we still have dinner to look forward to,” Amelia said around my lips.

“Good point.” I crouched just a bit to let my arms fold under her bottom. Her legs latched around my waist as I stood back up.

I pulled back a little to ask her where, but she beat me to it.

“Couch, the fog can fuckin’ watch.”

Yes, ma’am. I managed to plant her on the couch without making a complete idiot of myself. I landed with my knees on the oiled hardwood floor, completely between her legs.

“Now, that’s a sight I could get used to.” She looked down at me, as her hand left the back of my neck to lift the front of her dress.

I stared—slightly dumbstruck—as she presented her completely bare crotch to my eyes. The skin around her lower lips still had red splotches of irritation from shaving.

I leaned forward, my mouth nearly touching her. “I guess we might as well skip to dessert, right?” She squirmed as my breath pushed against her bare skin.

I kissed the outer lips first, drawing a giggle from Amelia. “Sorry, sorry, I’m a tad ticklish before I get—“

She stopped when I cut her off with another kiss, letting my tongue trace her folds. I let my hands explore, pushing her dress out of the way, feeling the warmth of her skin.

Her hands clutched at my hair. The giggles had long since stopped, replaced by sharp exhales. I let my hand trail back to her entrance, my middle finger nestled just outside of her. With every lick I pushed it a little deeper.

“...Ollie...” She breathed, her fingers clutching hard in my hair. “...harder.”

I deepened the strokes of my finger, adding my index as I felt her relax around it. I let my eyes wander to the French doors that led outside. The fog had pressed so hard against them that it could have been mistaken for a blizzard.

“Told you it wanted to watch!” Amelia forced out between groans.

I tore my eyes from the outside world and back to the woman writhing on my couch. My mouth left her folds to half kiss, half wipe, on the inside of her thighs.

It was slightly awkward trying to keep my fingers inside while I tried to maneuver to sit next to her on the threadbare sofa. But I managed it without too much drama.

“Ollie—?” I let my lips stifle her question, her tongue meeting mine an instant later.

Her hand dropped to my zipper, fumbling with it for a second. As it opened, her fingers wrapped around me, pumping experimentally.

“Where’d you say the condoms were?” Her voice was tight, faltering when I curled my fingers slightly.

“Bag on... the... counter.”

Amelia gave me a quick kiss as she hopped off the couch. “Muah. Pants better be off when I get back.”

They damn near hit the back wall. She returned a few seconds later, already tearing the wrapper open.

She sat on my lap, just behind my erect length. Her hands idly stroked me back to full hardness.

The opened condom landed on my chest.

“I’m absolutely awful at putting those things on,” Amelia said with a grin.

I tried to act like I wasn’t nearly vibrating as I rolled the latex down. When I finished, Amelia dragged herself along my shaft, planting one arm around my neck again. The other hand guided me to her.

Maybe if there hadn’t been a gorgeous woman actively wanting my dick, I would have done more than barely clock the thin layer of fog that lay over the floor of the house.

She sank down with a groan—quickly silenced by my mouth on hers. My hand found the soft curve of her hip, helping her find the perfect rhythm and angle. I gritted my teeth against her heat, already feeling the pressure.

I felt its attention, for the first time awake, I knew it was watching me—watching us. A quick glance at the doors revealed the same swirling I had seen last night pressing against the dirty glass.

Her hands pushed my head into the crook of her neck. “Right there, Ollie! Fuck...” Her words came out as a choked whisper.

I latched my lips around her neck, my teeth nipping lightly at the pale skin. I tried to focus on something other than how Amelia felt around me. What I saw was the fog pouring through the open window in the kitchen.

“F-fuck! Amelia!” My voice was strangled. Any effort I made to try to get her attention only seemed to help her along.

“Yes! I—!” She stopped suddenly, her legs squeezing like a vice on my hips. Inside she pulsed around me, dragging my own climax out.

Her body lay limply on mine for a few moments.

“Amelia...” I whispered.

“Humhh?” She shifted lazily.

“I think we might have just fucked up.”

I couldn’t see her face, but I felt the small movements in her neck as she looked around.

The mist had almost completely enveloped us on the couch, the window and kitchen were completely out of sight.

“Oh, shit.”

She disappeared into the fog. I threw myself at where she had been a split second before. My shout was swallowed just like she was.

I crashed forward—or at least I tried to—my wrist was caught by something. No matter how hard I yanked I couldn’t free it.

I bit my lip, hard. Nothing, no pain. Well, that told me where I was, for all the good that did me.

It was dark, no fog or mist. The room was square, and spartan. My eyes adjusted enough that I could make out the shape of at least three other beds. I knew where this was, I was sure of it.

I looked down. My right arm was strapped to the bed frame by a thick padded restraint. In the lack of light I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like an older hospital bed. I was wearing some kind of plain rough smock or gown, it felt like it went down to my knees.

I twisted around as best I could, trying to find any kind of usable landmark. Shapes in the darkness got clearer the longer my eyes adjusted. Every bed was straddled by privacy curtains on both sides, and retro-looking monitoring equipment was parked nearby.

It was the regional hospital. I’d been in this same room a dozen times since I came back.

“Amelia!” I whisper-shouted. “Anyone here?” I tried to pry the restraint off with my free hand.

“Is someone awake?” An unfamiliar older feminine voice spoke from what seemed like the doorway. An almost painfully loud clack of heels resounded through the room.

A woman came into view. She was wearing an old-fashioned nurse’s uniform that looked like it was from the fifties. Starched cap pinned to gray-streaked brown curls. As she got closer, her face became clear.

I’d never seen her like this before outside of faded photos in dusty cabinets. It was my grandmother—only about thirty or forty years younger. And very obviously awake.

She halted with a startled cry when she looked up from the clipboard she was reading from.

“Ollie?” she hissed under her breath. “What in the blue blazes—”

I didn’t answer immediately, eyes still searching the room. There was no sign of Amelia, or anyone else for that matter. Every other bed was empty.

“Oliver Kaufman! What. In the hell. Are. You. Doing. Here?” She raised her voice a little more, punctuating her words with stabs of her finger.

I ignored her, for all I knew she was just another trick of the nightmare.

“Please...” Her hands unclenched. “Please, tell me you are just another one of its sick jokes.” She sounded so very tired.

I looked her straight in the eyes. “Grandma—if that’s really you—I think I really need your help.”

-- Well that was long, wasn't it? This is for Image 17 of the 2026 August Image Prompt Contest.

Like always feedback is always welcome.

u/NinjaBass — 18 days ago

▲ 15 r/Erotica

The Things You'll Do For A Day Off - [F25s/M25s] [Coworkers] [Workplace] [Oral]

My face falls as I scan the shift calendar, landing on the last day of the month.

Jessica—July thirty-first.

That bitch! I told her I needed that day free! The name on the day before it makes my eyes roll. Anyone but him.

The ding of the oven timer interrupts my pity party. Probably the best perk to working at a bakery is the constant smell of fresh pastries every morning.

I set the tray of buns on the prep table right next to the turn to the front of the shop. Maybe Carly could switch one of her shifts with me? I'll ask when she gets in today.

Speaking of Carly—she’s late. I move on to setting the coffee to brew.

The rear door chimes. I turn to try to ambush Carly before she gets a look at the schedule.

It isn’t Carly.

It’s Matt. Fucking Matt—Mr. Never Swaps With Anyone.

“Hey, Jess.”

"The hell are you doing here?" I ask. "Where's Carly?"

He speaks without looking up from wiping his shoes. "Sick, called out this morning."

There goes plan A. Wait...

"Since when do you swap shifts with anyone?"

The bastard just shrugs. "She offered to make it up to me when she's better."

I pause, holding the next tray from the oven. Did she? But she has a...

Ugh... Well, if that's the price.

Ow! The hot tray burns through my oven-gloves. I throw it on the counter with a loud clatter, sending some of the buns sprawling over it.

He walks over and bends down to look me in the eyes. "You okay? You look more constipated than usual."

Dick.

He brushes past me to the fridge.

I hesitate. "I'm scheduled on the thirty-first."

"Tends to happen." He pulls out a gallon jug of milk.

The kitchen echoes as I stomp petulantly. “Well, smart-ass, I can't be here that day!"

"And I'm waiting to hear how that's my problem."

"Mmh-hm? And?" Matt has the gall to look bored as he sets the milk down on the counter.

"And what?" I plant my hands on my hips.

“And you’re scheduled for the day before...”

He glances at the schedule on the wall. “Yup.”

My hands clench. Jesus, I forgot how difficult he could be. "I need you to switch with me."

He looks me up and down. "What are ya offering?"

I blow one of my bangs out of my eyes with a huff. What the hell would he even want? Lunch or a gift card feels dumb, and payday’s next week anyways.

Swallowing, I make up my mind. "I'll blow you right fucking here."

His brow shoots up. That certainly has his attention—for the first damn time since he got here.

"I was thinking lunch or gas..." He doesn't give me a chance to respond. "Guess that’ll have to do. Deal."

Fuck.

He starts to untie his apron. "I do need to get these buns glazed before opening, so I hope you don't mind some multitasking."

When I don’t move, he points to the prep counter and says, "You wanna swap or not?"

I pull my hair back, securing it with the scrunchie on my wrist. Walking up to where he is waiting, I jab my finger into his chest.

"No pushing or pulling my hair, and absolutely nothing on my face!"

He just shrugs, grinning. "Sounds good to me."

Trying to ignore the spreading heat between my legs, I squeeze between him and the counter. I fail to convince my crotch that I didn’t press against his hardening shaft. The quick brush is all it needs to open the tap behind my panties.

It’s not like I hate the guy—hell, he’s kinda cute when he goes all terse on people—I just didn’t think my Friday was gonna start with my coworker’s cock in my throat.

His hand holds my arm as I start to kneel. “Before you uhh... get started.” If I didn’t know better I’d say he’s a little flustered right now.

I scoff, wrenching my arm free. “Oh, what now?”

The hand moves to point at one of the shelves.

“Need the powdered sugar for the glaze.” He takes a deep breath. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

I do. I just want to get this over with—regardless of my pussy screaming at me. With a huff, I reach back and pull the sugar container off the shelf, handing it to him.

“Here, anything else? I’m gonna be a little busy for a while.” I don’t miss the pulse in his shorts when I say that.

It’s his turn to swallow. “No, I uhh... no.”

Good. I balance my heels on the bottom of the counter as I sink down to cock-level. Okay, Jessica, it’s just a blowjob, nothing you haven’t done before. Just pull it out and go to town, he’ll probably bust in under a minute—do I want him to though? I push that thought down.

“Alright...” I lick my lips as I reach to his elastic waistband. I have to pause pulling it down to reach in with my other hand. I’d have to practically pants the fucker to get his cock out!

For Matt’s part, I feel him start mixing the glaze for the buns above me.

He lets out a hiss the instant my hand finishes wrapping around him. I stroke him a few times while he’s still buried in his shorts.

“Jess...”

Oh, alright. I free his cock out to the hot air of the kitchen. I give him a few more pumps, engrossed in watching the skin slide over his head. God, what a beautiful cock—Okay, calm down, Jessica!

Leaning forward, I let my tongue slowly drag up from his base to halfway up his length. I’m rewarded with another hiss from above, and a small thrust of his hips. Looking up at his face I see that he’s staring at the top of the counter.

Let’s see you do that when I really get started!

My tongue continues up to his crown to swirl between the ridge and the bunched skin. I plant my mouth on his tip, barely grazing the engorged flesh. The whisking above me has definitely slowed—good.

Dipping forward, I part my lips slightly, letting him into my mouth, before sealing them just past the crown. I pull my head back, his cock slipping back out to rest on my mouth.

I repeat that a few more times. The third time I have him in my mouth, I trace the shape of his head with my tongue, drawing an actual moan from him.

“Fuck, Jess...” He looks down at me, face beaded with sweat, his mouth slightly agape. The way his face contorts slightly every time I move goes straight to my clit.

Rather than pulling back again, I push forward, never taking my eyes from his. I stop when it hits the start of my throat. My hand wraps around his hilt as I pull back enough to let him wetly pop from my lips.

“What is it, Matt?” I ask sweetly, hand spreading my spit all along his cock.

He doesn’t—can’t—look at me, all of his attention is on pouring the glaze into one of the worn-out squeezy bottles.

“I... gotta...” is all he’s able to choke out.

I kiss the underside of his shaft. “Gotta what? Isn’t there anything you want?” I’m enjoying this far too much. But it isn’t every day you get Matt of all people speechless.

I let his cock rest against my cheek. “I know what you want.” He’s so close that my lips brush him as I speak. “You wanna fuck my throat, don’t you?”

He stiffens on my face. Bullseye.

“You’ve been such a good boy so far, I think you deserve something.” My tongue leaves a wet trail up to his tip before I swallow him back to the opening of my throat.

Breathe through your nose, Jess. I relax and let him slide a few millimeters deeper before I pull back again.

Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve throated a cock this big...

I start a bobbing rhythm on his shaft, each time taking him a little further down. Soft gurgles force their way out between his cock and my lips. Ropes of drool falling to pool on my tits.

The front door chimes. I freeze—It’s not supposed to be unlocked yet!

A woman speaks, “Jess? Matt?” It’s the boss.

“Back here!” Matt manages to grind out. He looks down at me and puts a finger over his mouth.

“I’m just popping in for a sec, are the buns nearly done?” She’s closer now, probably near the register.

“Y-yeah, I’ve almost finished.” He gives a weak wink to me.

“Almost finished,” he says? Bet.

This time I don’t stop until my nose is pressed firmly into his thin layer of pubic hair. The edge of my lip curls when I hear the strangled croak from him. Jesus, the sounds he makes could make a girl come.

“You okay back there?”

I don’t let him recover, dragging my head up and down the entire length of his cock as slowly as I can. My other hand wanders to flick over my drenched underwear, every fleeting touch electric.

“Yup! Just about to glaze them, be out there in a sec!”

Oh, he’ll glaze something all right. I can barely see his hands working the bottle above me through the apron. I’m so close to dragging myself over the finish line...

I feel his sac tighten a moment before I shove him the deepest I’ve ever gone. I try to swallow it all but he stymies my attempts to get away with no evidence by pulling his hips back. My face scrunches at the unexpected load of cum in my mouth. My eyes barely register the bottle of icing positioned right above me before they close fully.

Something pops loudly above my head.

“Fuck!”

A split-second later my face is covered in something white and sticky. How the fuck did he manage to—it’s not hot, it’s just below room temperature—sonovabitch!

“Matt!” The boss sounds concerned.

“Bottle burst on me! I’m fine, I got ‘em done.”

I’m fucking not. My mouth is full of spunk and I can’t really open my eyes through the damn icing.

The boss speaks again, “I’ll get some new ones while I’m out, been meaning to do that for way too long.”

I manage to brush the majority of the splattered icing off my eyes. I glare at Matt, who has slumped onto a nearby bench.

“Can I grab one of the buns before I head out?”

Matt looks at me and grins. “Sure, Jess is about to take them out to the case anyway!”

Dick.

He points at the tray of freshly glazed buns and flicks his head towards the front.

I’m still coughing down his cum when I reach the front counter, hoping the boss can’t smell anything on me.

The boss is a middle-aged woman, small streaks of gray brushing through her pulled-back hair.

“Dear Lord, Jess!” She leans in with concern. “How hard was he mashing that thing?”

Just fucking kill me.

“I got a little too close helping him finish.” I can barely look her in the eyes as I hand her a bun.

She takes it, using a napkin to avoid the sticky icing. “Are you sure you haven’t come down with whatever Carly has? You’re all flushed.”

I start putting the buns in the front counter case, anything to avoid her gaze. “It just got a little hot back there, I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Alrighty, let me know if you start coming down with something, okay?” She starts to turn around.

I nod.

The moment the door closes again I collapse against the register. I can’t tell if it’s from shame or excitement. That bastard... he’ll get what’s coming to him. The burn on my face is matched only with the wetness of my pussy.

Well, there’s definitely a way to fix that last part. I reach between the folds of my skirt.

Matt is still lounging on the bench when I get back. Perfect.

I throw the bundle of soaked fabric in my hand at his face. “I don’t remember the deal involving a slut-walk to the boss.”

He starts, and spreads my panties out to look at them. The thin material is almost translucent from my need.

I keep walking towards him, planting my right foot down next to him on the bench—giving a perfect view of where that fabric used to be.

“So I’m afraid I’m going to have to make it a little more... even.” I thread my fingers behind his head, pushing his face in closer.

“We’ve got ten minutes ‘til open. Make them count.”

reddit.com

u/NinjaBass — 30 days ago

▲ 30 r/Erotica

They're not for you. They're for me [F27/M28] [Friends to Lovers] [Light Bondage] [PiV] [Accidental Creampie]

I can’t stop pulling at the hem of this stupid dress. Why did I let Bret talk me into wearing something like this? Well, better this than the first thing he sent me. Mark isn’t even here yet and I’m already panicking—that doesn’t bode well.

I’m not sure I buy Julie’s reason for picking this spot over our usual haunt. It’s the furthest bar from Mark’s place, and the closest to mine. Between Bret’s scheming and Julie’s meddling it seems like everyone has decided to force the issue.

Bret’s the next one through the door. The moment he sees me his head tilts in disappointment. He sidles up to my seat at the bar, eying me up and down.

“Amanda, that is not what I sent you.”

I side-eye him. “Your choice had a good chance of an immediate wardrobe malfunction.” I shiver at the thought of trying to keep my panties hidden under that practically non-existent skirt. Better to play it safe with an old white sundress.

“And I thought that was the whole damn point!” He jabs a finger at me.

I brush his hand away. “I’m trying to get his attention, not get bent over a table.”

“Why not? That’s how my partner reacted when I—“

The door opens and Mark walks in. What on earth has he done to his hair? His normal brown is now a vibrant shade of ocean blue! He still has on his usual button-down with the sleeves rolled up, his sport jacket over his shoulder.

“Mark!” I shoot up from my barstool cutting off whatever Bret is going to say next. I’m a little unsteady on my new wedges—would sneakers have been such a poor choice? But I don’t care as I wobble as quickly as I can over to him.

I swear that dip at the entryway wasn’t there before.

“Amanda!” Mark’s shout is more alarmed than mine as he rushes forward to catch me. He manages to wrap an arm around my stomach before I fully tumble to the ground. His fingers digging into my hip send a pulse straight to my core.

If I say that my heart was racing just because of the stumble I’d be a liar.

“...Thanks.” I lean against his shoulder for a second or two longer to be strictly casual before pushing away fully onto my feet. “The hell did you do to your hair?” Very smooth, Amanda.

Mark reddens a little. “I...might have promised my team if we hit the project goals I’d dye it. They chose the color.”

I have to stop myself from running my hand through it.

He must have realized that he’s still holding my hip. His hand moves to my arm.

“Jesus, Amanda, you’re freezing!”

Before I can even say anything he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

“I’ll go ask someone if they can turn it up a little.” And like that he’s off. Leaving me in the middle of the room in a coat six sizes too big—and underwear in definite need of replacing.

A fresh blast from the AC makes me pull it tighter. It smells like the bergamot cologne Mark always wears.

Bret walks up with my forgotten drink. “Good try with the fall—maybe a little more leg action next time. Really wrap around him.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Fuck off.”

—

Julie has a corner booth reserved for the small tray of cupcakes and stack of cards. I haven’t added to the pile this year.

We drink, we laugh, we tell stories that we’ve all heard a thousand times before.

I catch Mark looking at me a couple of times. Not the usual ‘let’s make sure all my friends get my attention’ I’ve suffered for years—really looking at me. I almost have the courage to say something the first time I see it, but the words die as soon as I open my mouth. Just like every time.

Julie goes down the list of names on the birthday cards—Bret, her, Charles. She gets to the last one from Nick before glancing up at me.

“Amanda?” Her brow furrows. I know what she’s thinking—I never forget a card for him.

“I ran outta time this year.” I give my best non-committal shrug. “Work just got stupid busy.”

Bret claps my shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll make it up to ya, Mark! Don’t you worry, Jules.” I don’t miss the wink he gives Julie.

Mark just spreads his hands. “She doesn’t have to get me anything, just being here is all I need.”

God, I wish I could show him right now how much I needed him. I think about the small box I left in my car—should I?

I look back at Mark. The plan is simple, direct—but so is just walking up and kissing him. Maybe I should go with plan C.

No. I didn’t go through the trouble, not to mention dealing with Bret, to pussy out of plan B.

I wait until Mark gets absorbed with some scheme that Nick is trying to pitch.

“Bret?” I hold my keys out to him.

His eyes widen a little. “You sure, Mandy? That one was just me joking around a little...”

I push the keys into his hand, not taking my eyes off Mark. “Don’t call me that, and yes.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Aye-aye cap’n.” And moves towards the door.

—

It takes Bret far too damn long to get back—a small wrapped box held tightly in his hands. Mark goes to take a piss before I see Bret open the door.

“Here.” He looks around at the others. “I’ll get them out of the way—shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Oh?”

He gives a small smile. “We’ve seen you looking at him for a lot longer than you think, Mandy.”

I grab the box from him. “Was I that obvious?”

“Sweetie, it’s been obvious to everyone but him since university.” He looks over and catches Julie’s eye. “Now, go fix that.”

Between the two of them, they manage to find an excuse for everyone to be somewhere else in record time.

I slump in the booth while I wait for Mark to come back. Am I insane? Have I finally just cracked? I shift the box in my hands, feeling the contents move inside. I cross my legs. God, just thinking about it...

“Amanda? Where’d everyone go?”

My head snaps up. Oh come on! I need a minute, maybe two!

“J-julie said she needed help with something.” Definitely not my best lie.

I stand up, trying not to think about the damp patch I probably left on the seat cushion. I walk the few feet to him.

“Here!” I thrust the box out against his chest. “I-I got you this...”

He takes it from my trembling hands. “You really didn’t have to, Amanda.”

I can’t stop myself from blushing when he says my name.

“Please...just open it, you’ll see.” I hide my face.

I listen to him tear the wrapping off. It’s just a cheap fiberboard box I got from Hobby Lobby—it’s what’s inside that’s special.

The lid scrapes as he lifts it off, followed by the metallic ring of its contents being removed.

“Amanda?” He sounds confused.

It takes all my strength to look up at him. He’s holding a small ring of keys up to his view.

Mark just looks at me, his eyes questioning. You can do this, Amanda, just like you practiced.

I take a deep breath. “Umm...” Perfection. “You see.” Nailed it.

“Are you okay?” Mark leans down to look at me, his lips dangerously close.

“It’s not really for you... per se...” I swallow, trying to slow my words down. “It’s for me... in a matter of speaking...” I’m babbling now.

He reaches out and touches my shoulder. “Amanda, you aren’t making any goddamn sense.” His mouth is curled into a smile.

I nod, trying to force the next words out. “The keys—they’re for your actual present.” I have to keep my eyes on the floor. “I couldn’t bring it here, can you meet me at my place? I promise it’ll make sense there.”

God, I love how his brow moves when he’s confused.

“Um... sure, I could use a good walk, had a few too many I think tonight.”

On an impulse I lean forward and plant my lips on his cheek. “Thank you.”

I brush past him to the door—nearly stumbling again on that same damn dip. I couldn’t bear to look back at him.

— Mark —

I need to calm down. I barely hear the directions from my phone. God, she’s so cute tonight! I can’t remember the last time I saw her out of jeans and t-shirt. Or with her hair down instead of a ponytail.

I nearly broke when I caught her. It took everything I had to let her go, but she’s always made it clear that she doesn’t see me like that. I touch my cheek—maybe not. She’s never done anything like that before.

I nearly run into a light pole.

Looking at the small set of keys in my hand, I still can’t figure out what the hell she meant by them being for her. I swear I’ve seen something like these before—I just can’t think of where. They’re so simple—almost like ones you see in a cartoon—there’s no way they could unlock something more important than a toy box.

The GPS takes me down a strip mall, her apartment building is just past it. I pay no attention to the stores closed and closing that I walk by. Except the last one. Its lurid pink and red sign—the shape of a heart—is all I need to know what kind of store it is.

I don’t know what makes me scan the items in the window. But near the middle of the top shelf is where I find what is nagging at the back of my mind. Four small leather cuffs, each ending in a metal chain. Each of them held closed by a locking clasp. The keys in front of the set.

A set of keys nearly identical to the ones in my hand.

That can’t be right. I lean on the brick wall of the strip mall looking at her apartment. Amanda definitely didn’t give me the keys to a set of... bondage gear? There’s a small part of me that whispers that she did say it was for her.

I tense my thighs trying—and failing—to will myself soft. The last thing she needs is me barging in swinging my dick around.

My phone vibrates.

Amanda: I kinda need your help when you get here. Don’t bother knocking.

I respond with a thumbs-up emoji. I push off and start walking to her apartment.

— Amanda —

I throw my phone onto the nightstand, wincing at the heavy clunk. I have no idea what the hell possessed me to text him that.

Okay, deep breath, Amanda. It’s only some leather cuffs. The bed creaks as I sink down.

Feet first, I guess. I slide the left restraint over the silk stocking covering my leg. That had been Bret’s suggestion—something about chafing. My fingers fumble with the clasp, still getting used to the matching elbow gloves. Also Bret’s idea, though in that case the only thing he said was ‘They’ll be hot as fuck.” Well, can’t argue with that.

I’d left the matching teddy and panties in the box. Something that I kinda regret now that the AC is kicking on again. I shiver, almost more from the feel of the silk on my goose-bumped skin, than from the cold.

My own key locks the cuff securely. There’s enough slack in the chain to touch my heel to my ass, but not much else. The right leg goes a little faster now that the gloves are starting to settle.

It’s the point of no return now. I have to fold my fingers over to hold the right wrist cuff in place while I tighten it. I have to leave my left hand free—didn’t think that one through.

Forcing myself to stretch, I let out a soft groan. I should have ordered a waterproof blanket with the lingerie—I was already making a puddle and Mark isn’t even here yet!

The muffled sound of my front door closing makes me jump. Oh please God let that be Mark and not my fucking landlord!

“Amanda?” It’s hard to hear him through the bedroom door. But it’s definitely Mark.

I have to pace my breathing. “I’m in here!” I call out. My face feels like it’s covered in napalm.

There’s a few moments where my breath stops completely. I hear his hand knock into the doorknob on the other side. It turns so agonizingly slowly.

And then he’s through.

Mark stops at the threshold as he realizes what’s in front of him. Here I am, nearly completely naked except for some Amazon next-day silks and a garter-belt. And leaking like a faucet.

Even with the lights off, I can see the muscles in his hands flexing against the door frame.

“...Happy... Birthday?” I squeak out. I didn’t know my voice could go that high.

We stare at each other. I get stuck between trying to cover my chest and pussy. My free arm just kind of ends up cradling under my breasts.

I can see his mouth trying to work—however this night goes, the sight of him completely dumbfounded is one I will get off to for the rest of my life.

“...Mandy?” There’s a crack in his voice.

My whole body is burning. “This was stupid...” I start to reach up to unlock and loosen my right hand. “Just give me a minute, and we can forget this ever happened—“ I stop as he takes a step forward.

“No!” He immediately pulls back—his face like someone realizing a dream is slipping away. “...No.” He starts walking towards the bed.

I can’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, this is—“

“Perfect.”

That stops both of us. He blinks for a few seconds.

“I don’t know why I said that...”

He takes a deep breath before he steps forward again. “Are you sure this... that I’m what you want?”

I can’t quite see his eyes in the dark, but I know that they’re as panicked as mine.

“Yes.” I swallow. “For years.”

He sits on the bed next to me. His weight making me dip towards him a little. My breath quickens when he reaches for my free hand.

“Mark...” I raise it to his face, feeling the rough stubble. “I swear to God, if you don’t kiss me right now—”

He leans over and pushes his mouth to mine cutting me off.

Mark pulls away after a few seconds. “You have no idea—well maybe you do—how long I’ve needed to do that.”

I don’t respond. I just thread my fingers into his silly blue hair and pull him back. My tongue pressing through our lips. He presses his hand onto the garter-belt at my hip, making me jump slightly.

I speak around his lips. “Mark, you know... your present isn’t ready yet...” My fingers leave his hair, landing next to my bound right hand.

The hand on my hip moves haltingly, like he’s afraid that I’ll disappear if he’s too fast. His fingers tickle my stomach as they trail upwards—far too slowly for my needs.

“I’m not going anywhere, even if I could.” I make a show of testing the restraints. “I’m all yours tonight.” And hopefully every night.

He pushes his hand over my side, closing around my free wrist. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you get uncomfortable, or if you just want out.” Mark’s eyes bore into mine.

I nod quickly. “I promise.”

He manages to get the cuff tightened around me, only fumbling a few times compared to me. The click of the lock brings everything center-stage for me.

The man I have spent the better part of a decade silently pining for—and not so silently masturbating to—is on my bed while I am nude, soaked, damn near panting, and now fully restrained.

Mark shifts on the bed, straddling my leg. “What do you want?” He runs his hands up and down my sides. “I guess more importantly, what don’t you want?”

This is why I love him.

“Just no butt-stuff, and there’s condoms in the nightstand.” I push my hips at his touch. “You do go down, right?”

He pushes his thumbs in gently, drawing a moan from my lips. “Enthusiastically.”

The chains rattle softly as I try to spread my legs further—displaying my drenched pussy. “Well, don’t keep a girl waiting.”

Rather than moving straight down, Mark pulls himself back to my lips even as his hand drops to cup my folds. His middle finger dipping to trace a circle around me.

I kiss him back, my breath sucking every time he brushes over my clit. He moves to my jaw and down my neck. The second he sucks on my neck he slips the finger in. I wince a little. Fuck, it’s been a while.

I clench down, stopping him halfway. “Keep it there for a sec...” I tense and release a few times. All the wetness in the world can’t help if I don’t relax a little. For his part, Mark starts to slowly curl and relax rhythmically—Never forcing it deeper, but just enough to graze the top of my walls.

I draw him in slowly, the tense muscles in my pussy relaxing and yielding. A soft but deliberate friction presses down on my clit—his thumb. My hips buck into it automatically, making his finger bottom out inside me.

“You okay?” He raises his head to look at me, a soft smile playing on his lips. His finger starts to gently pump in and out—never quite leaving me completely, and never going too far inside.

I start to meet his fingers with each thrust. “Yes! Oh God yes!”

He returns to kissing my neck, trailing lower and lower. His teeth scrape at my nipple forcing my back to arch. I’m fully fucking myself on his fingers now, his palm wetly slapping against my cunt each time we meet—making his withdrawal torturous.

The sound I make is pathetically needy—even for me.

Mark releases my nipple as he pushes himself completely between my legs, his mouth level with my slit. I am already close enough that the first kiss he plants on me nearly makes me come. His hands roam my stomach and breasts as he drags his tongue up to my clit.

“Mark...” My hands pull the chains tight, trying to reach for his head.

In response he latches his lips down over my hood, sucking and swirling his tongue against it.

The clink of metal fills the room. My wrists and ankles strain against the cuffs, desperate to touch and hold him.

“Mark! Please... please...” His hands hold me down as I try to push into his face.

The pressure behind my core keeps building. I can’t keep the panting moans down. Every twitch in his lips is enough to jolt me closer.

He adds a finger—pressing directly on my g-spot.

I don’t think of myself as a screamer, but Mark challenges that. My voice is a little hoarse when I come back down.

He’s back in front of my face as I open my eyes.

“That good, huh?” His smile is decidedly too cheeky for what he just did to me.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me again.”

I savor the tang of myself on his tongue as we duel. Strands of my arousal break as we pull away.

“You definitely have too many clothes on.” I whisper.

He slips off the bed onto his feet. Hands reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

Every button undone makes me feel like I miscalculated with the restraints. I want nothing more than to alternate between tearing his clothes off and shoving my fingers back in my pussy. But the cuffs sabotage every attempt to do more than just ogle him.

Eventually his shirt hits the floor revealing more of him. His hands undo his belt with indecent haste. He shoves his pants and underwear to the ground at the same time.

God, his cock is beautiful—from the slight upward curve, to the thick head half obscured by skin. I lick my lips at the small drop pushing its way from his tip.

“Condom’s in the nightstand.” I remind him. “A-and some lube.”

Mark looks down at himself a little self-consciously a moment before he opens the drawer. I hear the sound of foil being torn. When he turns back he’s already rolling the latex sheath down his length. The small squeeze-bottle of lube in his other hand.

He pops the top of the bottle and tries to put a little on the top of his cock. He misjudges, flooding his shaft with the stuff.

“Ah shit!” He uses his foot and discarded shirt to try and mop up the spilled liquid.

I laugh. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean it up after.”

He settles between my legs again. His lube-covered fingers finding me again, spreading the cool fluid over and in me.

I gasp as two of his fingers slide in with no resistance. I knew I bought that brand for a reason. It doesn’t take long for him to make me buck again.

“Mark?” I force his name out.

“Yeah?”

The words spill out of me before I can stop them. “I need you to just fuck the shit outta me... I can take it.”

The fingers retreat. The swollen head of his cock replaces them. I push my ass up off the bed with my feet. My hands pulling against the headboard to anchor my chest.

Mark grabs my hips and slams hilt deep in one sharp thrust. My head snaps back at the sudden fullness. Thank fuck he used so much lube! God he fit me so perfectly.

He didn’t wait for me to recover. Another quick jut of his hips ripped a squeal out of me.

“Just like that!” I yell to whoever is listening. If I don’t get a noise complaint tomorrow I’ll be disappointed.

His hands pull me back onto him. Every thrust is punctuated by clapping skin and our moans.

“Fuck, Mandy!” He drives into me harder—I’m barely able to breathe.

I’m slamming myself onto his cock just as greedily. “Yes! Yes!”

I only barely notice a slight popping on his last thrust. The heat of his shaft seemingly more intense now.

He slows down slightly, drawing his entire length out, letting only his head remain inside.

My hips draw circles in the air, trying to coax him back in.

He presses back in a languid thrust. His crown scrapes every sensitive spot I have.

The pressure is building again, and this time I didn’t want to stop it.

“Mark, just fuck me! I’m so close!”

He almost folds me in half with each pounding motion. I lose my ability to form words just before the tight ball in my cunt breaks again. This time he follows me down. His hot cum pumping into me with each contraction in his hips.

Wait.

Both of us look at each other, our flushed faces telling the same story. We simultaneously look down at where our hips were joined.

Agonizingly he pulls his softening cock out, coated in a mix of lube, arousal, and cum. The base of the condom is still there, but the ruptured tip has been pushed down to the middle of his shaft.

Well.

“Shit, Mandy, I’m—“

I shush him. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m not on the pill.” To be frank, I just wanted to avoid the clean up.

“But—“

The restraints clatter as I try to hold him. “No buts. I’ll be fine. I’ve waited too long for this to be derailed by a shitty rubber.” Knowing my luck it probably expired years ago.

I press against the cuffs again, only now noticing the burn in my arms. “Though I think I want out now.”

Mark reaches up to my hands.

“I think you need—“ My wrist releases. “—The keys...” Don’t tell me...

The other one loosens.

He moves down to the foot of the bed and looks up at me. “I noticed that when I put them on you. The locks don’t actually do anything.”

I roll my eyes. Of-fucking-course. I’m going to kill Bret—right after I hug him.

The others are removed quickly.

At least they don’t leave any marks—Lord knows how I was gonna explain that at work.

Mark ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, seemingly lost in thought.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pressing my chest into his back. “Hey.” I kiss his cheek when he turns his head to me.

“Hey.”

“What now?” I rest my head on his shoulder. “Because I know what I want, what about you?”

He settles back into me. “...You. I want you.” He reaches back and holds my head. “I have for years.”

“Good answer.”

My phone buzzes. A text message—I can barely make out Bret’s name on the screen. I crawl closer to the nightstand.

So... When’s the wedding?

reddit.com

u/NinjaBass — 1 month ago

▲ 23 r/eroticliterature

The Things You'll Do For A Day Off [F25s/M25s] [Coworkers] [Workplace] [Oral] [2026 July Contest] [Image 15]

One of these days I'll remember the damn flair.

Probably my last entry for the July Image Contest. Image 15

My face falls as I scan the shift calendar, landing on the last day of the month.

Jessica—July thirty-first.

That bitch! I told her I needed that day free! The name on the day before it makes my eyes roll. Anyone but him.

The ding of the oven timer interrupts my pity party. Probably the best perk to working at a bakery is the constant smell of fresh pastries every morning.

I set the tray of buns on the prep table right next to the turn to the front of the shop. Maybe Carly could switch one of her shifts with me? I'll ask when she gets in today.

Speaking of Carly—she’s late. I move on to setting the coffee to brew.

The rear door chimes. I turn to try to ambush Carly before she gets a look at the schedule.

It isn’t Carly.

It’s Matt. Fucking Matt—Mr. Never Swaps With Anyone.

“Hey, Jess.”

"The hell are you doing here?" I ask. "Where's Carly?"

He speaks without looking up from wiping his shoes. "Sick, called out this morning."

There goes plan A. Wait...

"Since when do you swap shifts with anyone?"

The bastard just shrugs. "She offered to make it up to me when she's better."

I pause, holding the next tray from the oven. Did she? But she has a...

Ugh... Well, if that's the price.

Ow! The hot tray burns through my oven-gloves. I throw it on the counter with a loud clatter, sending some of the buns sprawling over it.

He walks over and bends down to look me in the eyes. "You okay? You look more constipated than usual."

Dick.

He brushes past me to the fridge.

I hesitate. "I'm scheduled on the thirty-first."

"Tends to happen." He pulls out a gallon jug of milk.

The kitchen echoes as I stomp petulantly. “Well, smart-ass, I can't be here that day!"

"And I'm waiting to hear how that's my problem."

"Mmh-hm? And?" Matt has the gall to look bored as he sets the milk down on the counter.

"And what?" I plant my hands on my hips.

“And you’re scheduled for the day before...”

He glances at the schedule on the wall. “Yup.”

My hands clench. Jesus, I forgot how difficult he could be. "I need you to switch with me."

He looks me up and down. "What are ya offering?"

I blow one of my bangs out of my eyes with a huff. What the hell would he even want? Lunch or a gift card feels dumb, and payday’s next week anyways.

Swallowing, I make up my mind. "I'll blow you right fucking here."

His brow shoots up. That certainly has his attention—for the first damn time since he got here.

"I was thinking lunch or gas..." He doesn't give me a chance to respond. "Guess that’ll have to do. Deal."

Fuck.

He starts to untie his apron. "I do need to get these buns glazed before opening, so I hope you don't mind some multitasking."

When I don’t move, he points to the prep counter and says, "You wanna swap or not?"

I pull my hair back, securing it with the scrunchie on my wrist. Walking up to where he is waiting, I jab my finger into his chest.

"No pushing or pulling my hair, and absolutely nothing on my face!"

He just shrugs, grinning. "Sounds good to me."

It’s not like I hate the guy—hell, he’s kinda cute when he goes all terse on people—I just didn’t think my Friday was gonna start with my coworker’s cock in my throat.

His hand holds my arm as I start to kneel. “Before you uhh... get started.” If I didn’t know better I’d say he’s a little flustered right now.

I scoff, wrenching my arm free. “Oh, what now?”

The hand moves to point at one of the shelves.

“Need the powdered sugar for the glaze.” He takes a deep breath. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

I do. I just want to get this over with—regardless of my pussy screaming at me. With a huff, I reach back and pull the sugar container off the shelf, handing it to him.

“Here, anything else? I’m gonna be a little busy for a while.” I don’t miss the pulse in his shorts when I say that.

It’s his turn to swallow. “No, I uhh... no.”

“Alright...” I lick my lips as I reach to his elastic waistband. I have to pause pulling it down to reach in with my other hand. I’d have to practically pants the fucker to get his cock out!

For Matt’s part, I feel him start mixing the glaze for the buns above me.

He lets out a hiss the instant my hand finishes wrapping around him. I stroke him a few times while he’s still buried in his shorts.

“Jess...”

Oh, alright. I free his cock out to the hot air of the kitchen. I give him a few more pumps, engrossed in watching the skin slide over his head. God, what a beautiful cock—Okay, calm down, Jessica!

Let’s see you do that when I really get started!

Dipping forward, I part my lips slightly, letting him into my mouth, before sealing them just past the crown. I pull my head back, his cock slipping back out to rest on my mouth.

I repeat that a few more times. The third time I have him in my mouth, I trace the shape of his head with my tongue, drawing an actual moan from him.

“Fuck, Jess...” He looks down at me, face beaded with sweat, his mouth slightly agape. The way his face contorts slightly every time I move goes straight to my clit.

“What is it, Matt?” I ask sweetly, hand spreading my spit all along his cock.

He doesn’t—can’t—look at me, all of his attention is on pouring the glaze into one of the worn-out squeezy bottles.

“I... gotta...” is all he’s able to choke out.

I kiss the underside of his shaft. “Gotta what? Isn’t there anything you want?” I’m enjoying this far too much. But it isn’t every day you get Matt of all people speechless.

I let his cock rest against my cheek. “I know what you want.” He’s so close that my lips brush him as I speak. “You wanna fuck my throat, don’t you?”

He stiffens on my face. Bullseye.

“You’ve been such a good boy so far, I think you deserve something.” My tongue leaves a wet trail up to his tip before I swallow him back to the opening of my throat.

Breathe through your nose, Jess. I relax and let him slide a few millimeters deeper before I pull back again.

Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve throated a cock this big...

I start a bobbing rhythm on his shaft, each time taking him a little further down. Soft gurgles force their way out between his cock and my lips. Ropes of drool falling to pool on my tits.

The front door chimes. I freeze—It’s not supposed to be unlocked yet!

A woman speaks, “Jess? Matt?” It’s the boss.

“Back here!” Matt manages to grind out. He looks down at me and puts a finger over his mouth.

“I’m just popping in for a sec, are the buns nearly done?” She’s closer now, probably near the register.

“Y-yeah, I’ve almost finished.” He gives a weak wink to me.

“Almost finished,” he says? Bet.

“You okay back there?”

I don’t let him recover, dragging my head up and down the entire length of his cock as slowly as I can. My other hand wanders to flick over my drenched underwear, every fleeting touch electric.

“Yup! Just about to glaze them, be out there in a sec!”

Oh, he’ll glaze something all right. I can barely see his hands working the bottle above me through the apron. I’m so close to dragging myself over the finish line...

Something pops loudly above my head.

“Fuck!”

A split-second later my face is covered in something white and sticky. How the fuck did he manage to—it’s not hot, it’s just below room temperature—sonovabitch!

“Matt!” The boss sounds concerned.

“Bottle burst on me! I’m fine, I got ‘em done.”

I’m fucking not. My mouth is full of spunk and I can’t really open my eyes through the damn icing.

The boss speaks again, “I’ll get some new ones while I’m out, been meaning to do that for way too long.”

I manage to brush the majority of the splattered icing off my eyes. I glare at Matt, who has slumped onto a nearby bench.

“Can I grab one of the buns before I head out?”

Matt looks at me and grins. “Sure, Jess is about to take them out to the case anyway!”

Dick.

He points at the tray of freshly glazed buns and flicks his head towards the front.

I’m still coughing down his cum when I reach the front counter, hoping the boss can’t smell anything on me.

The boss is a middle-aged woman, small streaks of gray brushing through her pulled-back hair.

“Dear Lord, Jess!” She leans in with concern. “How hard was he mashing that thing?”

Just fucking kill me.

“I got a little too close helping him finish.” I can barely look her in the eyes as I hand her a bun.

She takes it, using a napkin to avoid the sticky icing. “Are you sure you haven’t come down with whatever Carly has? You’re all flushed.”

I start putting the buns in the front counter case, anything to avoid her gaze. “It just got a little hot back there, I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Alrighty, let me know if you start coming down with something, okay?” She starts to turn around.

I nod.

Well, there’s definitely a way to fix that last part. I reach between the folds of my skirt.

Matt is still lounging on the bench when I get back. Perfect.

I throw the bundle of soaked fabric in my hand at his face. “I don’t remember the deal involving a slut-walk to the boss.”

He starts, and spreads my panties out to look at them. The thin material is almost translucent from my need.

I keep walking towards him, planting my right foot down next to him on the bench—giving a perfect view of where that fabric used to be.

“So I’m afraid I’m going to have to make it a little more... even.” I thread my fingers behind his head, pushing his face in closer.

“We’ve got ten minutes ‘til open. Make them count.”

u/NinjaBass — 1 month ago

▲ 61 r/eroticliterature

They're not for you. They're for me [F27/M28] [Friends to Lovers] [Light Bondage] [PiV] [Accidental Creampie] [2026 July Contest] [Image 3]

REUPLOAD due to screwing up the title/flair Did something a little out of my wheelhouse for Image 3