u/lsguy1

I awoke slowly, every part of me aching. I blinked several times against the light streaming around the half closed curtains. It wasn’t very bright, but my eyes weren’t used to the sun. I could not help but wonder two things as my surroundings became clearer to me:

Where the hell am I and how long have I been out?

I was in a room I did not recognize, either as I place I had been in before or architecture I recognized. It was spartan in its decorations, a bed, side table, and a stool the only pieces of furniture. The table held a clay pitcher and cup, both void of decoration. A woven tapestry of some design I did not recognize was hung on the wall. I could hear the sound of the ocean streaming through the window.

My throat hurt, I could tell it was dry. When I tried to move to get water, my entire body protested. I took a moment to collect myself and try to piece together what happened. I knew who I was, where I lived, my life up until… now parts were coming in flashes. I was on a boat. A sailboat. My uncle’s sailboat. I had to sail around the world for some reason. My head was starting to ache. There was a storm. Then, I was here.

A door opened. I turned to see who it was, wondering if I would somehow recognize them. A woman I had never seen, somewhere around 20, stood in the doorway. Her blonde hair was braided about her head and she wore a simple white dress that I would expect to see on a girl in a painting of an ancient Mediterranean civilization. She looked stunned to see I was awake, but then she quickly smiled. Her smile was like seeing the sun, her face became a mask of beauty. While she towered over me due to my lying down, I felt like we would be fairly even in height if was standing, putting her around 5’8” or 5’10”.

“You’re awake,” she stated as she crossed over to me. She was carrying in her hands a tray. I could see another pitcher on it, as well as a bowl stacked with fruits. She placed the tray on the side table and sat on the stool.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice raspy. My body was twisting as I tried to move, but I could make no progress.

“Don’t try and move,” the woman said as she placed her hands on my shoulders, her touch firmly guiding me to stay in place. “You’re healing incredibly well, but you were in bad shape when we found you.”

She picked up the pitches from her tray and poured crystal clear water into the cup. She lifted the cup to my lips, helping me angle my head so I could drink. “Slow,” she encouraged as I drink. I wanted to down it all, but I almost choked even on small sips. I was feeling better already when she pulled the cup away.

“Do you know your name?” She asked me, her tone curious and kind.

I nodded. “I’m Adam,” I said. My voice sounded better already. “Who are you?”

She smiled at my answer. It made me feel better again when she smiled at me. “I am Eleni,” she told me as she took a piece of fruit, lightly mashed and very soft, and fed it to me with a wooden spoon. “We think you were on a boat that was caught in a storm. It was destroyed. You are very lucky to be alive.”

I swallowed the fruit with a little difficulty, but I knew my body needed it. “I remember a boat. Where am I?” I asked again.

Eleni’s cheeks became a little rosy. “I apologize for not telling you before. I wanted to check on you first. You are on an island called Themiscyra.”

The name meant nothing to me. She could tell that by the look in my eyes, so she went on.

“It is a hidden place, a place for my people. We are called the Amazons,” she explained. “We hide from the world, and it is only women here.”

I wanted to call bullshit, but I didn’t want to become hostile with those helping me. Still, my face was betraying me, and Eleni gave a small laugh.

“You don’t believe me,” she said as she fed me again, “but you will see. I was tasked with looking after so as not to scare you. You and I may be able to look eye to eye, but many of my sisters will tower above you.”

---

Hello and I hope you enjoyed that intro!

I am looking to be a man in the legendary land of the Amazons. I would like the women to be taller, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m looking for them to be automatically dominant. Where the plot goes from there is something we can discuss, but I will throw two ideas out here. If you don’t like them, want to tweak them, or have a different idea, then that’s great too! These are just to get the ball rolling.

The Champions Prize: Word of a man spreads fast, and many become curious. Tensions begin to arise over what to do with him, and the Amazonian leader declares that he will be place in the care of whoever wins a series of games. No, the man has no say in it. *The Breeding Companion: The secrets of Amazon reproduction are closely guarded. Traditional methods of reproduction, those between a man and a woman, are extremely rare in the island, and now this man offers these women a chance to experience something they never have before. (For this one, we could focus on one pairing, or the man could get to help several Amazons. The breeding part is just trapping, if you’re not really interested in that part of sex, then it can just be a background detail.)

Like I said, can pitch your own ideas as well. They can be more slice of life to the more story driven. I want us to be collaborative and work together to make a fun story. I am a detailed and creative roleplayer with many years of experience. I easily write several paragraphs, but I never just write to fill space. I believe in quality over quantity and looking for someone interested in the same. If you’re a one paragraph writer, we don’t be a good match.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), agegaps and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

“Ta da!” She says, arms outstretched as she stands in front of the van. Her grin is ear to ear, like she’s showing me the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. “Introducing our home for the next couple of months!”

I inspected the lime green camper van with genuine interest, circling it once before popping open the back doors. There was a bed, a countertop with built in sink, and small sitting area, all of them recently refurbished. “Looks cozy,” I said as I took thorough stock.

“Oh, it’s gonna feel real tight at time,” she laughs, grabbing onto my arm and giving it a squeeze. “But it’s going to be so much fun!”

It was going to be an experience for sure, but it was one I needed. I had just spent the last five years busting my ass day and night with a start up that just got bought out by a much bigger company. They wanted the tech, not the people, so they offered me a token position that was designed to drive me crazy enough to quit or a very generous severance package. I accepted the package on the spot and walked out that day to many months of financial freedom.

I still remember how her face lit up when she found out. She is a moderately successful influencer with a very successful OnlyFans page, and she’s constantly creating content for both. She’d been talking for months about wanting to do a van life roadtrip because the van life content was having, as she put it, a real moment right now. She didn’t like the idea of traveling alone though.

“You’ll only appear on the videos on my safe for work pages, obviously,” she had said during our dinner where she pitched the idea to me. I knew she was up to something, but she knew how much I wanted to try the new ramen place downtown. “And I won’t film the OF stuff while you’re around. I’ll buy you some like really nice headphones if we’re in the middle of nowhere and you need to sit outside while I do my thing.”

“What if I want to watch?” I had asked in jest.

“I’ll discount my page just for you,” she winked. Then her expression turned pleading, her eyes taking on a puppy dog quality. “Please really think about it. I’ll pay for all the gas and campsite fees. I just don’t want some crazed follower figuring out where I am or where I’m heading and trying to meet me.”

It wasn’t a bad offer, and I had the time. “Aren’t you worried your followers will think we’re dating and get all mad and shit?” From the stories she had told me, her male fans could be a bit… possessive.

She shrugged and plucked the last dumpling from our shared appetizer. “You can’t avoid drama and speculation in this business. And besides, I could do a lot worse.” She had given me a teasing grin before plopping the dumpling in her mouth.

Now here I am, hands on the van, seeing my life for the next few months before me. “It does look nice,” I concede. “It’s gonna be fun. Where are your dildos at?”

She hits my shoulder and then gestures to the small sitting area. “In a cabinet under there. On the left. Don’t forget it or you’ll get a shock when you’re looking for a blanket.” She sat herself down in the side doorway and kicked her legs back and forth. “We leave bright and early tomorrow. You ready?”

---

I am looking for a detailed writer to take on a slice-of-life style roleplay with plenty of smut mixed in. While the general premise is defined, I left some things a bit more vague for us to work out together. Things like our relationship to one another, or where this roadtrip is taking us.

Yes, I do eventually want things to turn into us making content for the OnlyFans page together, but that won’t be at the start. I don’t want it to be that we make our first stop and end up fucking, I want there to be build up and discovery. What gets us to cross that line is something else I want to talk about. It could be something casual, like you get a lot of requests to fuck someone in the van. It could be that feelings develop. Maybe we get really drunk one night. Maybe you just need someone to help get better angles for your masturbation videos and it escalates. These are all just ideas we can either build off of, or you can bring something new. I love hearing my partner’s ideas.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, agegaps and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

“Ta da!” She says, arms outstretched as she stands in front of the van. Her grin is ear to ear, like she’s showing me the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. “Introducing our home for the next couple of months!”

I inspected the lime green camper van with genuine interest, circling it once before popping open the back doors. There was a bed, a countertop with built in sink, and small sitting area, all of them recently refurbished. “Looks cozy,” I said as I took thorough stock.

“Oh, it’s gonna feel real tight at time,” she laughs, grabbing onto my arm and giving it a squeeze. “But it’s going to be so much fun!”

It was going to be an experience for sure, but it was one I needed. I had just spent the last five years busting my ass day and night with a start up that just got bought out by a much bigger company. They wanted the tech, not the people, so they offered me a token position that was designed to drive me crazy enough to quit or a very generous severance package. I accepted the package on the spot and walked out that day to many months of financial freedom.

I still remember how her face lit up when she found out. She is a moderately successful influencer with a very successful OnlyFans page, and she’s constantly creating content for both. She’d been talking for months about wanting to do a van life roadtrip because the van life content was having, as she put it, a real moment right now. She didn’t like the idea of traveling alone though.

“You’ll only appear on the videos on my safe for work pages, obviously,” she had said during our dinner where she pitched the idea to me. I knew she was up to something, but she knew how much I wanted to try the new ramen place downtown. “And I won’t film the OF stuff while you’re around. I’ll buy you some like really nice headphones if we’re in the middle of nowhere and you need to sit outside while I do my thing.”

“What if I want to watch?” I had asked in jest.

“I’ll discount my page just for you,” she winked. Then her expression turned pleading, her eyes taking on a puppy dog quality. “Please really think about it. I’ll pay for all the gas and campsite fees. I just don’t want some crazed follower figuring out where I am or where I’m heading and trying to meet me.”

It wasn’t a bad offer, and I had the time. “Aren’t you worried your followers will think we’re dating and get all mad and shit?” From the stories she had told me, her male fans could be a bit… possessive.

She shrugged and plucked the last dumpling from our shared appetizer. “You can’t avoid drama and speculation in this business. And besides, I could do a lot worse.” She had given me a teasing grin before plopping the dumpling in her mouth.

Now here I am, hands on the van, seeing my life for the next few months before me. “It does look nice,” I concede. “It’s gonna be fun. Where are your dildos at?”

She hits my shoulder and then gestures to the small sitting area. “In a cabinet under there. On the left. Don’t forget it or you’ll get a shock when you’re looking for a blanket.” She sat herself down in the side doorway and kicked her legs back and forth. “We leave bright and early tomorrow. You ready?”

---

I am looking for a detailed writer to take on a slice-of-life style roleplay with plenty of smut mixed in. While the general premise is defined, I left some things a bit more vague for us to work out together. Things like our relationship to one another, or where this roadtrip is taking us.

Yes, I do eventually want things to turn into us making content for the OnlyFans page together, but that won’t be at the start. I don’t want it to be that we make our first stop and end up fucking, I want there to be build up and discovery. What gets us to cross that line is something else I want to talk about. It could be something casual, like you get a lot of requests to fuck someone in the van. It could be that feelings develop. Maybe we get really drunk one night. Maybe you just need someone to help get better angles for your masturbation videos and it escalates. These are all just ideas we can either build off of, or you can bring something new. I love hearing my partner’s ideas.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, agegaps and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

“You’re going to be so surprised,” has been my wife’s favorite phrase for the last two weeks up to my birthday. This has, of course, made the wheels turn in my head as to how I’m going to be so surprised, with guesses ranging from surprise trips to big ticket purchases. Any guesses I’ve made to her have just made her smirk that little smirk of hers, shrug her shoulders, and tell me that I’ll have to wait and see.

Working through my birthday was an incredible slog, and not just for the usual reasons. Knowing there’s some kind of surprise waiting for me made the seconds tick by like minutes, the hours feel like days. I nearly stood up and screamed during my weekly huddle, though I’m never very far from that during any meeting anyway. I was out the door the second I could leave, my feet racing down the steps to the parking lot as if a killer were chasing me. I sped as much as I dared going home, and I really hit the gas when I was certain there were no cops around.

I take a beat after I park, not wanting to run in like a crazed maniac. I’m sure my pupils are dilated and I know my heart is beating faster than usual in my chest, but that’s just the adrenaline. A deep breath helps center me, and I exit my car the most nonchalant way I know how, just in case my wife is watching from the window. I have to resist the urge to run from my car to the door, but my steps are certainly faster paced than normal. I slide my key into the lock of the front door and take another breath before I open it, certain that this is definitely how I always do it.

The house is a bit darker than usual, with just enough lights on to make it so I won’t trip as I’m walking. A few candles are lit, bathing the living room and hallway in a warm glow. Now my mind is piecing things together more, and I can’t help but grin. I’ve never gotten a sex surprise before, and now I’m spiraling my thoughts in a whole new direction trying to figure out what it might be.

After a few steps inside, my wife appears in the doorway on the other side of the living room. She’s wearing a black lace body suit that makes that body I’ve known a thousand times even more alluring with a pair of black thigh high stockings. The bodysuit is sheer enough in the right places to get me salivating. She’s done her hair and makeup too, her hair in loose curls down one of her shoulders.

“Well hello,” she purrs, her body pressed against the frame of the door.

“Is this my surprise?” I ask.

She giggles and shakes her head, “You’re sweet, but I’d wear this any old time.”

She separates from the doorframe and walks over to me, taking my hand and looking me in the eyes. She’s beautiful, the thought filling my mind as her love filled eyes stare into mine. Neither of us speak for a moment, that silent recognition passing between us that can only be shared by two who have been as intimately in love as we have for this long.

“You’re a good husband,” she says sincerely. “You’re attentive and kind, you’re supportive. You work hard, and you always try to find the bright side of things even when they drive you crazy.”

“Is the surprise you being so nice to me?” I jest.

She laughs and hits my shoulder. “And on top of all those things, you’re loyal. Not just loyal, but lovingly so. You’ve never compared me to another woman, never even made comments about one unprompted. I know you glance occasionally at other women, but your eyes never linger. I know you could have fucked Ashley before she left, she got drunk at one of your work dinners and couldn’t stop telling me how lucky I was.”

My eyebrow raised, and now I was really curious where this was going. My coworker Ashley was by far the hottest person I worked with, and she was definitely flirty with me, but fucking her never crossed my mind. What did my present have to do with being loyal?

Then it starts to dawn on me.

“This is a present and a reward,” she says as she starts to lead me by my hand further into the house. I can’t help but check out her ass as we walk. “I don’t fear you going after other women, and I know you’re more than satisfied with me.” She winks at me with that last comment. “But I still think you deserve a little bit more.”

We stop in front of the closed bedroom door. I can’t remember the last time I saw it closed. She turns to face me again as my eyes linger on the door, piecing together what’s on the other side. What I don’t know now is who it is.

“I’ll see you when you’re done,” she tells me as she leans up to plant a kiss on my lips. It’s slow, a molding of our mouths together that nearly draws me into her. “Take your time.” She adds the words with a voice just above a whisper.

She reaches behind and turns the handle, pushing the door open and stepping aside for me to enter.

---

Thank you for reading. I am looking for a likeminded individual who would love to explore a consensual cheating plot. While this initial idea lends itself to a one-off, I would also be interested in discussing ways this could go longer term. I think there are a lot of ways this could extend beyond the one night, with or without my wife’s knowledge.

While I certainly have idea about who it is that’s waiting for me in the bedroom, I want to hear your ideas too. It could be anyone from a stranger to someone much closer to myself and my wife. I don’t have a strong preference, and want us to make the pairing that makes the most sense for us together.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

The sun was plunging closer and closer to the horizon, making the bright blue of the sky retreat before orange strokes in the sky. Long shadows provided relief from the sun's heat, but the air remained warm. A slight breeze could make one wish for a fire to sit by.

I rode my bike along the boardwalk, the boards clicking pleasantly beneath my wheels. Others move about the boardwalk on foot or some set of man powered wheels, the air alive with the hum of activity. Some were headed home, others were just beginning their journey, and some, like me, were on a singular mission. My destination was near the end of the boardwalk, overlooking the tranquil waters.

The General Store was a popular destination for locals and tourists alike. They carried knick knacks and apparel with the towns name in various styles, as well as more general apparels and accessories one might pick up on a whim. They stocked several books on local history and hiking trails, plus a few currently popular books. They also sold several goodies that were their main draw this time of day. Grandma G’s Fudge was small batch fudge made by a local retired woman, with all profits donated to charity. They also had Happy Cow Ice Cream, locally sourced ice cream churned at the creamery in the next town over. My mission, as far as anyone knew, was to get some of that ice cream.

I rode up to the small window on the side of the shop, the Moo Thru they called it, where they served ice cream directly to the patrons on the boardwalk. The couple of small tables had a few people sat about enjoying their already purchased frozen treats, but the space before the window was unoccupied. I was happy to see it, because the real reason I had ridden here from my lakeside rental was working just as I had hoped. I knew that it wouldn’t be long, minutes really, before treat seeking families would be flocking here for an after dinner snack.

She was an angel under fluorescent lights, her elbows propped on the counter at the window, a book in her hands. She was reading Wuthering Heights, a book for her literature class next semester she had told me, face screwed up in concentration. Her hair was partially tied back, but some of it remained free to wander, brushing against her shoulder in her yellow sleeveless crop top. She looked up when she heard me approach, a smile spreading across her face that I knew by now was a bit more personal than the one she gave to any old customer. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“I was just getting the feeling that I should get some cookies and cream scooped,” she said in greeting.

“Maybe I want something different tonight,” I said while she set her book down and moved to grab the scooper.

She laughed. “Yeah? You want something different?”

“Of course not,” I shook my head, “but I’m not that predictable.”

“Yeah you are,” she teased as she picked up a cone and began to scoop my ice cream.

“How’s the book?” I asked, tapping her copy she had left on the counter.

“Is it bad if I say boring?” She said with a slight groan in her voice. “I saw the movie and ended up hating it, and I hoped maybe the book would be better but…” She trailed off, as if ashamed to admit she was finding a classic more of a chore then a delight.

She was reaching deep into the freezer to get some cookies and cream from the nearly depleted drum, stretching her legs out. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts that gave me a clear view of most of her toned legs.

“I’ve never read it,” I shrugged. “Isn’t it supposed to be about like, romance and passion and such?”

She straightened up just in time to see me trying to look away as if I wasn’t checking out her legs. She grinned a little wider as she walked back towards the window with my order in hand. A little larger than a single scoop, but she wouldn’t charge me for the extra.

“I guess that’s what it’s supposed to be about,” she said as she extended the cone towards me. “But it’s not, like, passionate. Not grab someone, push them to the wall, rip their clothes kinda passionate.”

I paused mid-reach for the coin with arched eyebrows. She giggled, a blush creeping up her neck.

I finished taking the cone. “I get it,” I said. “I’ve always enjoyed a little clothes ripping.”

She seemed surprised for a moment, and then her teeth bit her bottom lip for a moment. She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, leaning back onto the counter towards me. The sunset was reflected perfectly in her eyes.

“You ever do any pushing up against the wall?” She asked, practically purred.

The sounds of a couple of guests walking up behind me ended our conversation. I reached for my wallet, but she brushed me off.

“You aren’t leaving right away, are you?” She asked me. “I wouldn’t want my favorite customer going away just yet. Especially when you still have to pay me.”

---

I love the vibes of summertime. It feels almost liminal, between worlds and full of possibilities. If you’ve ever taken an extended trip to some waterside town, you’d know there something of a special place too.

I was picturing this as a bit of an age gap story, but we can discuss that. I would like for this to be more than just one scene, so this does not have to be the starting point. I just wanted to paint a scene, suggest a dynamic. While you’ll be the girl in the ice cream shop, you can play her however fits your style. I won’t ever write for you once we get going.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

I awoke slowly, every part of me aching. I blinked several times against the light streaming around the half closed curtains. It wasn’t very bright, but my eyes weren’t used to the sun. I could not help but wonder two things as my surroundings became clearer to me:

Where the hell am I and how long have I been out?

I was in a room I did not recognize, either as I place I had been in before or architecture I recognized. It was spartan in its decorations, a bed, side table, and a stool the only pieces of furniture. The table held a clay pitcher and cup, both void of decoration. A woven tapestry of some design I did not recognize was hung on the wall. I could hear the sound of the ocean streaming through the window.

My throat hurt, I could tell it was dry. When I tried to move to get water, my entire body protested. I took a moment to collect myself and try to piece together what happened. I knew who I was, where I lived, my life up until… now parts were coming in flashes. I was on a boat. A sailboat. My uncle’s sailboat. I had to sail around the world for some reason. My head was starting to ache. There was a storm. Then, I was here.

A door opened. I turned to see who it was, wondering if I would somehow recognize them. A woman I had never seen, somewhere around 20, stood in the doorway. Her blonde hair was braided about her head and she wore a simple white dress that I would expect to see on a girl in a painting of an ancient Mediterranean civilization. She looked stunned to see I was awake, but then she quickly smiled. Her smile was like seeing the sun, her face became a mask of beauty. While she towered over me due to my lying down, I felt like we would be fairly even in height if was standing, putting her around 5’8” or 5’10”.

“You’re awake,” she stated as she crossed over to me. She was carrying in her hands a tray. I could see another pitcher on it, as well as a bowl stacked with fruits. She placed the tray on the side table and sat on the stool.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice raspy. My body was twisting as I tried to move, but I could make no progress.

“Don’t try and move,” the woman said as she placed her hands on my shoulders, her touch firmly guiding me to stay in place. “You’re healing incredibly well, but you were in bad shape when we found you.”

She picked up the pitches from her tray and poured crystal clear water into the cup. She lifted the cup to my lips, helping me angle my head so I could drink. “Slow,” she encouraged as I drink. I wanted to down it all, but I almost choked even on small sips. I was feeling better already when she pulled the cup away.

“Do you know your name?” She asked me, her tone curious and kind.

I nodded. “I’m Adam,” I said. My voice sounded better already. “Who are you?”

She smiled at my answer. It made me feel better again when she smiled at me. “I am Eleni,” she told me as she took a piece of fruit, lightly mashed and very soft, and fed it to me with a wooden spoon. “We think you were on a boat that was caught in a storm. It was destroyed. You are very lucky to be alive.”

I swallowed the fruit with a little difficulty, but I knew my body needed it. “I remember a boat. Where am I?” I asked again.

Eleni’s cheeks became a little rosy. “I apologize for not telling you before. I wanted to check on you first. You are on an island called Themiscyra.”

The name meant nothing to me. She could tell that by the look in my eyes, so she went on.

“It is a hidden place, a place for my people. We are called the Amazons,” she explained. “We hide from the world, and it is only women here.”

I wanted to call bullshit, but I didn’t want to become hostile with those helping me. Still, my face was betraying me, and Eleni gave a small laugh.

“You don’t believe me,” she said as she fed me again, “but you will see. I was tasked with looking after so as not to scare you. You and I may be able to look eye to eye, but many of my sisters will tower above you.”

---

Hello and I hope you enjoyed that intro!

I am looking to be a man in the legendary land of the Amazons. I would like the women to be taller, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m looking for them to be automatically dominant. Where the plot goes from there is something we can discuss, but I will throw two ideas out here. If you don’t like them, want to tweak them, or have a different idea, then that’s great too! These are just to get the ball rolling.

The Champions Prize: Word of a man spreads fast, and many become curious. Tensions begin to arise over what to do with him, and the Amazonian leader declares that he will be place in the care of whoever wins a series of games. No, the man has no say in it. *The Breeding Companion: The secrets of Amazon reproduction are closely guarded. Traditional methods of reproduction, those between a man and a woman, are extremely rare in the island, and now this man offers these women a chance to experience something they never have before. (For this one, we could focus on one pairing, or the man could get to help several Amazons. The breeding part is just trapping, if you’re not really interested in that part of sex, then it can just be a background detail.)

Like I said, can pitch your own ideas as well. They can be more slice of life to the more story driven. I want us to be collaborative and work together to make a fun story. I am a detailed and creative roleplayer with many years of experience. I easily write several paragraphs, but I never just write to fill space. I believe in quality over quantity and looking for someone interested in the same. If you’re a one paragraph writer, we don’t be a good match.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), agegaps and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

You had opened your laptop with such enthusiasm and determination, ready to hunt down travel deals. For the last 20 minutes, you’ve felt all that hope melt into depression as the reality set in. Ticket prices for anywhere you wanted to go were high, too high for you to even think about twice. You’d blow all your savings on just getting there, leaving you with almost nothing for lodging and food. Forget about drinks and shopping. There are some countries you could fly to and hang around for cheap, but they were places that wouldn’t be wise for a girl your age to travel alone to.

You tab over to your email one last time before you going to close your laptop and go doomscroll while watching trashy reality TV, finding a rather surprise subject line. It has your name, followed by “your travel dreams aren’t dead yet.” You don’t recognize the sender either, it’s some business named Partner Travel. It’s probably one of those discount travel companies that emails you based off your cookies, and they’ll probably offer you a “deal” that will get inflated with fees and be no cheaper than a regular airline.

But you’re bored, and desperate, and it’s not like you can get a computer virus from opening an email, just as long as you don’t click any links inside. So, you open the email, expecting an image to load advertising all their great deals. What you find instead is a simple, if not formal, message addressed directly to you.

Travel is getting more and more expensive, and dream trips can feel more and more out of reach. We provide an opportunity for people like yourself to have a fulfilling, enriching travel experience free of charge. You read that correctly, everything will be taken care of for you.

For more information and to fill out an application, click the link below.

Just under that line of text is a url, partnertravel.com with your name following the backslash.

Please note that this email will be unsent in one hour. At that time, your individual link will also cease to work. You may back out at any time even after applying, but your opportunity will not last.

You should delete the email. You should close your laptop and forget it. You know this is too good to be true, that clicking on that link will probably infest your computer with all manner of virus and malware and give your data over to be ransomed by someone in a third world country. You know what you should do, but you hesitate to do it.

One quick Google search can’t hurt. Unfortunately, their actual website is as vague as the email, if not more so. It promises exciting travel, and a chance to blindly apply, but nothing else. The photos all feel like stock photos of exotic locations too, no one place actually named. Theres only a couple of pages too, one of them reviews for the Partner Travel service. You scan the glowing, probably fake snippets from past users, all girls, who talk about the amazing times they had in countries all over the world. One makes you stop your scrolling to read it carefully. It’s from a girl who went to Bali and had the most amazing time, according to the review, and it’s attributed to Mia G.

You turn from your laptop and whip out your phone. Instagram is up in a moment, your fingers working furiously to pull up the profile of a girl from your program, Mia Gardner. You have a distinct memory of Mia getting so upset when her backpack strap broke because she said she couldn’t afford to buy another one. You also remember her telling you that she goes on so many dates because it’s the only way she can afford to try new restaurants, getting the guys to pay for it. You were confused how a girl who cried over a bag was posting stories and pictures from Bali for two weeks last summer. The pictures featured meals at expensive restaurants in dresses she could never afford, excursions like snorkeling and waterfall hikes, and so many hours at perfect, quiet beaches. She never provided an explanation for how she was able to go, either. You look from your phone back to your laptop, your mind racing a mile a minute.

You open the email again and hover over the link. Mia did this and didn’t die, so you feel confident it’s not totally a scam. There’s a catch you still haven’t figured out, but your curiosity, and hope, are growing more and more. You take a deep breath through your nose and click the link. A whole new section of the website loads, one with far more information and actual answers.

Partner Travel matches wealthy jet setters with appropriate companions who want to see the world. The companion will have all expenses paid by their travel partner, as well as any other arrangements you want to make. While most companions are given opportunities to see the sights and explore on their own terms, they will be subject to agreed upon schedules.

So there's the catch. The webpage emphasizes again that you can back out at any time. The matches, it claims, are made after thorough examination for compatibility, and that filling out the application is step one. Filling out an application is also not a guarantee that you will be selected. You could sleep on it, but then you remember that this link will go dead in about half in hour. They say fortune favors the bold, so you click the application link and begin to fill it out. For the most part, it’s pretty standard information. It asks you about some likes and dislikes, some preferred travel destinations, and some personality screeners, like if you prefer going out or a night in.

It’s the last question that makes you pause. It asks if you would be open a sexual relationship with your partner. There’s the real catch, and one you should have seen coming from a mile away. While no is an option, you get the feeling that those that click no probably don’t get to the next step. A part of you grimaces at the question and compels you to close the application now. Another part of you thinks about all the places you could never afford to travel on your own dime.

Fortune favors the bold.

You click yes, submit the application, and close your computer. Maybe they won’t even pick you. Then again, maybe you’ll be on a plane before you know it.

---

Thank you for reading! I have decided to revive a very old idea I had and put it to good use. You’ll be playing a young woman who dreams of travel and I’ll be playing the rich guy who helps make those dreams a reality. While there is a certain implication to the scenario, everything here is consensual and known about before hand. I would love for us to discuss where this vacation takes place and what our relationship would look like. I really enjoy building a story with a collaborative partner.

One aspect of this too will be what I like to call luxury play. I find wealth and all its trappings to be fun to play with, so I want it to play a part here. I’m talking things like nice accommodations, fancy dinners in expensive clothing, and more than generous gifts. If passionate and sensual scenes while sipping on high end drinks while overlooking breathtaking landscapes is your kind of thing, then we’ll be a good match.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, agegaps and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

Your family could not be more proud of who you have become. You are well spoken, demure, and intelligent, a true pillar of your community. You are the shining example to all the little girls in your ethnic enclave, the one their parents tell them they should all model themselves after. You’re the girl that all the other parents want their sons to date, beautiful and kind and perfect for raising children.

Part of it is in how you dress, feminine and classy. Your skirts and dresses always reach to your ankle, as if a hint of shin would somehow be scandalous. You wear cardigans and billowy blouses that hint at your shape, but keep it covered. Your hair is always worn down, or pinned back artfully. No one could ever besmirch your good name and accuse you of being a slut. The only word anyone could ever use to describe your makeup is tasteful.

It’s not just your appearance and general demeanor that has made you such a beacon of racial pride. You spoke at an event during AAPI Heritage Month on racism and the damage of stereotypes, presenting with such passion and authority that everyone was nodding along and becoming fired up. Some of the elders even had tears in your eyes, standing and applauding you. People still talk about it today, both in private and to you enthusiastically.

You are everything an Asian American woman should be.

At least, that’s what they think. They don’t know about the side of you who ditches the conservative clothing in favor of crop tops and short skirts with thigh highs. They would be surprised to see how gleefully you put your hair up into pigtails and space buns. The way you do your makeup would absolutely shock some of them, your face painted to emphasize your asiatic features.

Their reaction to all of that would be absolutely nothing compared to the horror, in some cases disgust, they would feel for why you’re doing it. You love the attention you get from white guys for it, how it makes you like a siren drawing them in. You always have a big smile on your face when you get in your knees for a white man, telling them how much you love their thick white cocks. And when they call you yellow and any other manner of racist terms, you don’t storm away like the girl who gave that speech would. You giggle and service their dick better.

Almost every time you have a date with one of those Asian boys, you put on an Oscar worthy performance at the end of the night. They walk you to your door and you put on the biggest smile on your face as you tell them what a nice time you had. If they were extra nice, they might get a kiss, a brief brushing of the lips, before you slip inside, though they never join you. Your phone is already in your hand by the time they’re walking away, a white boy’s number pulled up on your screen. You tell them when and that the door is unlocked before going to transform.

You spend twice as long on your makeup as you did for the date, which could feel wasteful since so much of it will be running and smeared within an hour, but you look so damn good. The Asian guy felt lucky getting a glimpse of your collarbone, and you’re dressed now to put everything on display for the next guy. It will be no time at all before a white cock is pounding into you, and your relationships won’t have suffered a bit for it.

---

I love the dichotomy as this prim and proper Asian girl who isn’t the same when she’s with a white guy. I want that to play into the roleplay somehow, and there can be a lot of ways it goes. Come to be collaborative and ready to play into the space.

I do not want this to be just a short raceplay scene where we embody stereotypes in a back and forth, I want to really dive into these characters and story. Whether we start the roleplay with has having never met or we know each other well can be discussed, but I want depth here. I don’t enjoy playing misogynistic assholes, so these actions will all be consensual enjoyed by both parties.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

Your family could not be more proud of who you have become. You are well spoken, demure, and intelligent, a true pillar of your community. You are the shining example to all the little girls in your ethnic enclave, the one their parents tell them they should all model themselves after. You’re the girl that all the other parents want their sons to date, beautiful and kind and perfect for raising children.

Part of it is in how you dress, feminine and classy. Your skirts and dresses always reach to your ankle, as if a hint of shin would somehow be scandalous. You wear cardigans and billowy blouses that hint at your shape, but keep it covered. Your hair is always worn down, or pinned back tastefully. No one could ever besmirch your good name and accuse you of being a slut. The only word anyone could ever use to describe your makeup is tasteful.

It’s not just your appearance and general demeanor that has made you such a beacon of racial pride. You spoke at an event during AAPI Heritage Month on racism and the damage of stereotypes, presenting with such passion and authority that everyone was nodding along and becoming fired up. Some of the elders even had tears in your eyes, standing and applauding you. People still talk about it today, both in private and to you enthusiastically.

You are everything an Asian American woman should be.

At least, that’s what they think. They don’t know about the side of you who ditches the conservative clothing in of crop tops and short skirts with thigh highs. They would be surprised to see how gleefully you out your hair up into pigtails and space buns. The way you do your makeup would absolutely shock some of them, your face painted to emphasize your asiatic features.

Their reaction to all of that would be absolutely nothing compared to the horror, in some cases disgust, they would feel for why you’re doing it. You love the attention you get from white guys for it, how it makes you like a siren drawing them in. You always have a big smile on your face when you get in your knees for a white man, telling them how much you love their thick white cocks. And when they call you yellow and any other manner of racist terms, you don’t storm away like the girl who gave that speech would. You giggle and service their dick better.

Almost every time you have a date with one of those Asian boys, you put on an Oscar worthy performance at the end of the night. They walk you to your door and you put on the biggest smile on your face as you tell them what a nice time you had. If they were extra nice, they might get a kiss, a brief brushing of the lips, before you slip inside, though they never join you. Your phone is already in your hand by the time they’re walking away, a white boy’s number pulled up on your phone. You tell them when and that the door is unlocked before going to transform.

You spend twice as long on your makeup as you did for the date, which could feel wasteful since so much of it will be running and smeared within an hour, but you look so damn good. The Asian guy felt lucky getting a glimpse of your collarbone, and you’re dressed now to put everything on display for the next guy. It will be no time at all before a white cock is pounding into you, and your relationship won’t have suffered a bit for it.

---

I love the dichotomy as this prim and proper Asian girl who isn’t the same when she’s with a white guy. I want that to play into the roleplay somehow, and there can be a lot of ways it goes. Come to be collaborative and ready to play into the space.

I do not want this to be just a short raceplay scene where we embody stereotypes in a back and forth, I want to really dive into these characters and story. Whether we start the roleplay with has having never met or we know each other well can be discussed, but I want depth here. I don’t enjoy playing misogynistic assholes, so these actions will all be consensual enjoyed by both parties.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

The red planet filled the Jedi’s view from the cockpit of their ship. The atmospheric gases that covered the whole planet swirled, creating hypnotic patterns that were always shifting. Those gases prevented any scanning with the ship’s instruments and the Force, leaving the Jedi blind to what was below. Their display showed an image of the planet and its name, Vellex. All the normal information that would be there, things like population and government information, was replaced by a warning to avoid the planet at all costs.

“The Council does not grant you permission to pursue onto the planet’s surface,” Master Em Bryn told the Jedi, their form projected onto the ship’s holodisplay.

“I have been pursuing this Sith for years,” the Jedi protested. “They are finally in my grasp.”

“You must practice patience,” Master Bryn said. “Few who have landed on Vellex have ever made it off, and that includes Jedi. If this Sith is powerful enough to survive there, then you will have two enemies to contend with.”

The Jedi did not respond. They instead watched the planet, studied it. Their target was so close, they could practically sense them still.

“The Council bids you to return to Coruscant so you can report on your pursuit,” Master Bryn went on. “They will be able to best guide you on how to proceed.”

The call ended, the orders clear. The Jedi was to give up the chase and return home, end of discussion. The Sith had not chosen Vellex as a haven, their landing was an act of desperation due to their damaged ship. The Council probably hoped that Vellex would take care of the problem, but the Jedi felt it was too great a gamble. This Sith was dangerous and clever, they had been evading all Jedi for years now. If they could survive in Vellex, then it would be a training ground for them to become even stronger. The Sith had already killed several full fledged Jedi and a few padawans. Vellex would only make them more deadly.

The Jedi did not in put the coordinates to Coruscant and begin to prep to jump to hyperspace. Instead, they took manual control and began to fly toward the planet below. They knew where the Sith’s ship had entered the atmosphere and passed through the cloud, but they had no idea where the ship had landed on the surface of the planet. Or crashed, if the damage was bad enough. The Jedi would search for a while before calling it off, it was their duty. If they were successful, then they could report it to the Council with their head held high. If they never found the Sith, well, the Council didn’t need to know every detail of their journey back.

The ship gave its usual rumble as they entered the planet’s atmosphere. The red cloud filled their entire field of vision, an omen they were beginning to wonder if they should heed. They were starting to get a bad feeling about this, but they pressed on. Soon, the cloud was around them, swallowing their ship. Every sensor on their console lit up with disruption warnings, and all they had to guide them was their eyesight. Given the circumstances, they may as well have been blind. Their ship rattled more violently, and Jedi's knuckles becoming white as they gripped the controls.

The senors regained function again right at the cloud's edge. They began to scream another warning, collision imminent. There was no time to do anything about it. As soon as the Jedi's ship pulled out of the cloud, they found themselves surrounded by dozens of small winged beasts crashing around their ship. They tried to navigate out of it, but it was too late.

They would not be landing, they would be crashing.

The Jedi pulled on the controls and tried to level the ship, which was moving at breakneck speeds through the air. They couldn't get a good lay of the land, steering the ship towards a dense forest in hopes the trees, the leaves of which were all tinted red by the light of the cloud, could help slow their descent. They tried to feel out with the Force, but it gave them immediate vertigo and forced them to close off their mind.

The ground was coming quickly. The Jedi tried one desperate attempt to broadcast a distress signal, but nothing could get off planet. Their heart was pounding, their pupils wide in panic as they tried to control their breathing. Survival was all they could hope for.

Trees filled their view now. They spotted something for a moment, a structure. They whipped their head to it and tried to memorize anything around it, a beacon for them to follow once they were on the ground, which would be any second now. The top of a tall tree scraped the bottom of their ship.

The crash was a blur. Their ship banged into trees with such force they expected one to cut it in half. Their safety harness barely holding the Jedi to their seat. They braced themselves against the console and hoped they would not be ejected, their body violently bouncing about in their seat.

When everything came to a very sudden stop, they were shaking. But they were alive.

They released themselves from the safety harness and moved out of their seat. The ship was at an angle and their nearly toppled out of the broken cockpit view port. They had not quite reached the ground, the ship still several feet in the air. Any stability it had was lost as soon as the Jedi started to move, shifting the ship’s weight. It creaked and moaned in the trees as it began to finish its descent to the forest floor. The Jedi made a desperate leap out as the ship began to fall, rolling onto the ground a few feet away from where the ship finished crashing to the ground.

They stood and looked about them, black tree trunks all around. The leaves were black and red, barely letting any light through the canopy. The air was thick and moist, the temperature warm. It was atill for a moment, but it was not silent as the creatures of the forest made their sounds. Some were too close for comfort. They opened up their mind again, reaching out with the Force once again. It was like trying to make out shapes in the fog at night, their supernatural sense limited by Vellex’s atmospheric cloud.

They barely got a sense of the large jungle cat just before it was on them. They leapt out of the way a little too slowly, the black beast digging its claws into the flesh of the Jedi’s legs. They cried out in pain and drew their lightsaber, igniting the blue blade.

The beast observed the Jedi, preparing its next attack. The warrior was still shaken from their crash, their leg now bleeding and hurt. They could barely sense the creature in front of them, and they had en even fainter sense of the one that was waiting behind. The Jedi reeled around just as the second beast pounced, their lightsaber’s blade cutting the beast in the air. Its body slammed into the Jedi. Unable to steady themselves, they sank to their knees and twisted towards the first beast.

All fangs and claws, it was already in the air flying towards them. The Jedi would not be able to kill it before it sunk its claws into them. They braced for the attack, but it never came. The beast was cut in two by the flash of a red lightsaber’s blade.

The Sith stood above them, eyes glowing yellow, their lightsaber at their side. The red blade was active, but they did not raise it to strike a blow. The Jedi caught glimpse of a hastily applied bandage wrapped around the Sith’s upper arm. For a moment, they only looked at one another.

“This is your lucky day, Jedi,” the Sith said with the confidence of a predator who had just cornered their prey. “Neither of us can make it off this world alone.”

---

Adventure and danger await these two enemies forced to work together. They can only make it off world if they work together, but it won’t be simple. Neither can trust each other, but they have to find a way. And what will they discover once they have a moment to rest?

This is enemies-to-lovers in many ways, but it won’t be cut and dry for this pair. They know that they can’t be together once they leave the planet, but their view of one another won’t be the same by the time they do. How far our story goes is up to us.

An in depth knowledge of Star Wars is in no way necessary. I don’t want to pin this to certain events or established characters, making our own story for us to explore in this galaxy. Even if you just have passing familiarity with the world, we can make it work. I did not establish which one of us would be which either, it’s one of the things I’d love for us to discuss.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

The sun was plunging closer and closer to the horizon, making the bright blue of the sky retreat before orange strokes in the sky. Long shadows provided relief from the sun's heat, but the air remained warm. A slight breeze could make one wish for a fire to sit by.

I rode my bike along the boardwalk, the boards clicking pleasantly beneath my wheels. Others move about the boardwalk on foot or some set of man powered wheels, the air alive with the hum of activity. Some were headed home, others were just beginning their journey, and some, like me, were on a singular mission. My destination was near the end of the boardwalk, overlooking the tranquil waters.

The General Store was a popular destination for locals and tourists alike. They carried knick knacks and apparel with the towns name in various styles, as well as more general apparels and accessories one might pick up on a whim. They stocked several books on local history and hiking trails, plus a few currently popular books. They also sold several goodies that were their main draw this time of day. Grandma G’s Fudge was small batch fudge made by a local retired woman, with all profits donated to charity. They also had Happy Cow Ice Cream, locally sourced ice cream churned at the creamery in the next town over. My mission, as far as anyone knew, was to get some of that ice cream.

I rode up to the small window on the side of the shop, the Moo Thru they called it, where they served ice cream directly to the patrons on the boardwalk. The couple of small tables had a few people sat about enjoying their already purchased frozen treats, but the space before the window was unoccupied. I was happy to see it, because the real reason I had ridden here from my lakeside rental was working just as I had hoped. I knew that it wouldn’t be long, minutes really, before treat seeking families would be flocking here for an after dinner snack.

She was an angel under fluorescent lights, her elbows propped on the counter at the window, a book in her hands. She was reading Wuthering Heights, a book for her literature class next semester she had told me, face screwed up in concentration. Her hair was partially tied back, but some of it remained free to wander, brushing against her shoulder in her yellow sleeveless crop top. She looked up when she heard me approach, a smile spreading across her face that I knew by now was a bit more personal than the one she gave to any old customer. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“I was just getting the feeling that I should get some cookies and cream scooped,” she said in greeting.

“Maybe I want something different tonight,” I said while she set her book down and moved to grab the scooper.

She laughed. “Yeah? You want something different?”

“Of course not,” I shook my head, “but I’m not that predictable.”

“Yeah you are,” she teased as she picked up a cone and began to scoop my ice cream.

“How’s the book?” I asked, tapping her copy she had left on the counter.

“Is it bad if I say boring?” She said with a slight groan in her voice. “I saw the movie and ended up hating it, and I hoped maybe the book would be better but…” She trailed off, as if ashamed to admit she was finding a classic more of a chore then a delight.

She was reaching deep into the freezer to get some cookies and cream from the nearly depleted drum, stretching her legs out. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts that gave me a clear view of most of her toned legs.

“I’ve never read it,” I shrugged. “Isn’t it supposed to be about like, romance and passion and such?”

She straightened up just in time to see me trying to look away as if I wasn’t checking out her legs. She grinned a little wider as she walked back towards the window with my order in hand. A little larger than a single scoop, but she wouldn’t charge me for the extra.

“I guess that’s what it’s supposed to be about,” she said as she extended the cone towards me. “But it’s not, like, passionate. Not grab someone, push them to the wall, rip their clothes kinda passionate.”

I paused mid-reach for the coin with arched eyebrows. She giggled, a blush creeping up her neck.

I finished taking the cone. “I get it,” I said. “I’ve always enjoyed a little clothes ripping.”

She seemed surprised for a moment, and then her teeth bit her bottom lip for a moment. She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, leaning back onto the counter towards me. The sunset was reflected perfectly in her eyes.

“You ever do any pushing up against the wall?” She asked, practically purred.

The sounds of a couple of guests walking up behind me ended our conversation. I reached for my wallet, but she brushed me off.

“You aren’t leaving right away, are you?” She asked me. “I wouldn’t want my favorite customer going away just yet. Especially when you still have to pay me.”

---

I love the vibes of summertime. It feels almost liminal, between worlds and full of possibilities. If you’ve ever taken an extended trip to some waterside town, you’d know there something of a special place too.

I was picturing this as a bit of an age gap story, but we can discuss that. I would like for this to be more than just one scene, so this does not have to be the starting point. I just wanted to paint a scene, suggest a dynamic. While you’ll be the girl in the ice cream shop, you can play her however fits your style. I won’t ever write for you once we get going.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

Maddie had come to town to visit her sister, or at least that was the excuse. Her sister had no idea that Maddie and I had been chatting daily, hourly really, for the last few months.

I was 27 at the time and Maddie was 20. We met when she came to visit her sister a previous time. So many of the guys had spent her whole trip trying to hook up with her, but her and I just chatted and got to know each other. The conversation continued when she left, and light flirting wove itself in as time went on. Soon, the subtly flirting became more explicit, and conversations about sex were not uncommon. She would brag about how working out was giving her a great ass and I should check it out next time she was around.

I remember when she sent me the first naked picture. I hadn’t been that excited since I was a kid on Christmas. It was the nude she sent boys she was interested in, but she was soon sending me new ones near daily. I loved them all. We were powder kegs of horniness by the time she was making plans to visit again.

Her sister was at work and I had the day off, so we made plans to get together. Our cover story was that Maddie would be bringing her sister’s dog over to play with mine while we hung out. The real plan was for us to spend the whole afternoon wrapped up in each other.

I rushed to the door as soon as I heard a knock, the widest possible smile on my face as I greeted her. My heart was already thumping in my chest and the adrenaline was surging, making my nerves run wild. I could tell it was the same for her. Neither of us were shy through our texts or phone calls, but now we were making awkward small talk. Finally my brain said screw it, and I pinned her to the nearest wall.

She was a tongue forward kisser, and mine gleefully met hers. We had only shared our first kiss, a sneaky thing, 12 hours ago, but it already felt like we knew how to match each other. My hands held her wrists above her head as we kiss. My grip lightened and traveled down, tracing her shape as our bodies began to grind against one another.

Our kiss never broke as we fumbled our way to the couch. As I seated myself, she sunk to her knees. The kissing had chased away all the nerves, and now she gave me a smoldering look that told me what she wanted. Her hands worked my belt and pants loose, tugging them down to expose my hard, waiting cock. She practically licked her lips at the sight of me, all my own pictures and teasing over the months building the anticipation inside of her.

“I’ve been dreaming about this cock,” she told me as she wrapped her hand around it. She never broke eye contact as she gave my head a kiss.

She began to stroke me with a slow pace as she kissed the head again. Her tongue traced around it before her lips parted to take it in. Her hand shifted down to allow her to take more of me in her mouth, my moans growing louder with each action. Her hand and mouth soon found a rhythm to working my cock, her lips plunging deeper and deeper on me. I was in heaven, encouraging her with more moans and what words I could manage to muster.

She paused from stroking and sucking me only for her tongue join the fray. She went from base to tip several times, the pressure making me squirm in the best of ways. She wasn’t rushing things, but she also knew what she wanted. Slowly, her pace increased and her strokes became faster. The movement of her lips on my dick became deeper, quicker.

She paused at one moment, my cock in her hand, and asked me, “You’ll be able to keep going, right?”

I laughed and nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m no where near done.”

She smiled wide and went back to her work with renewed vigor. Now Maddie wanted to make me cum, and she was wasting no time. She was like a woman possessed as her head bobbed up and down, eager to drain me of the cum long promised her. I warned her when I was close and she only picked up speed. I let out a cry of pleasure and erupted between her lips. She stroked every last drop out onto her tongue.

We were both smiling like fools as I took a moment to collect myself after that powerful orgasm. I pulled her up onto the couch and laid her back, making all of her clothes disappear. I kissed down that body that has been taunting me, enjoying what was finally mine. Her breasts were perky and full, these gravity defying things that suited her body perfectly. I was obsessed with them and could have spent hours kissing and worshipping them. Other parts of her were demanding my attention though, and so I kissed down her toned body.

She spread her legs for me and let me get a close look at her already dripping pussy. She had a small landing strip above it, and I thought I only liked bare pussies until I saw hers like this. I planted a kiss at the top of her slit, making her sigh when my lips brushed against her clit. My tongue traced the lines of her folds before parting them, her wetness spreading onto my tongue. Her taste was intoxicating, and I began to probe my tongue deeper to get more of it. Her breathy moans washed over me as she drove her hips as close to my mouth as she could get them.

My mouth devoured every inch of her pussy, tasting and teasing her until her head was thrown back. I focused my attention on her clit, circling it and tonguing it while I worked a finger into her. She wasn’t lying all this time when she told me she was impossibly tight. I worked it in and out of her at a steady pace as I found the movements with my tongue that made her shake. It wasn’t long before her strong thighs closed around my head and her whole body shook with release.

I sat up and looked at her. She was glowing, and I knew she wanted more. I leaned my face to hers and gave her the slowest kiss I could manage, our mutual tastes mixing in our tongues. “Let’s go upstairs,” I suggested between kisses.

“I’ve been waiting to get in this bed,” she said to me when we reached it. I was hard again, and she’d gleefully noticed. She stroked me as we kissed and got onto my bed.

I found myself between her legs again, but it was the head of my cock that was teasing her entrance this time. I gripped the base and lead myself inside. Her tightness did prove a challenge, and I had to work my hips a few times to get the head firmly inside.

“I’m sorry I keep kicking you out,” she told me with an embarrassed giggle.

I groaned at the feeling of her gripping the head of my cock and shook my head. “You feel amazing,” I reassured her.

Slowly, I worked my way in. Both of us were finding renewed energy in the slower start, our breath quickening as my cock finally became buried within her. She held me so tight I was tempted to just stay there, to be this close to her forever. Other temptations won out. I began to thrust, enjoying the sensation of her tightness as I moved. Her hands held my arms and back. She had been one of my main motivations in getting fit, and now she was reaping the rewards of my efforts. Thrusting turned into fucking, and our mouths were occupied kissing or moaning.

We rolled over to get her on top, her a goddess as I watched her lower herself down in my length. She bounced a couple of times to adjust before she planted her hips firmly against mine. Then, she began to move her hips back and forth, hands resting on her thighs. It was slow, almost torturous movements.

“You aren’t allowed to touch me,” she said with a grin.

I held my hands above my head both willingly and begrudgingly. It was like looking at a masterfully crafted statue grinding on me, her body perfectly toned. She smiled in this satisfied way that I can still see crystal clear in my mind. I could have been there for 1 minute or one hour, time lost all meaning.

“Can I touch you?” I finally asked.

She thought for a moment, smiled wider, then said, “Sure.”

My hand started at her hip before inching up. I really felt her, my hand gripping to every part of her. My touch made its way to her breast, molding around it like a treasure hunter finally finding their prize. She leaned forward and kissed me, the two of us feeling everything we had not yet said to one another.

She began to put all that dancer training to work on my cock as she bounced on me. A light sheen of sweat covered her frame, and I eventually began to thrust up to meet her. Our fucking became less about the art of it and more about the need.

We moved to the edge of the bed, me standing off of it and her on her back. It allowed me to get deeper than before, her hands holding onto me for dear life as I drove myself into her. I flipped her onto her stomach to take her from behind, at the same angle, her pussy somehow even tighter than before. She loved it and began to cry out for more, gripping the sheets as I drove myself into her. She would later beg for me to fuck her like that again and again.

Eventually, I was starting to lose hardness. She suggested taking the condom off, which we both knew, logically, I shouldn’t. She couldn’t be on birth control due to a medication she was taking. Logic had no place in that bed. I pulled the condom off, she stroked me hard again, and then she climbed on top.

Maddie rode me with abandon then, both of us wanting one thing. At this point, she had cum more times than either of us could count and I was growing ever closer. I felt that familiar throbbing and told her I was close, she needed to get off.

She didn’t.

I pulsed hard and came, the first rope firing into her tight depths. She pulled off after that and the rest shot onto her pussy and thighs. She collapsed backwards to catch her breath, and I basked in the glow of the moment.

It was mere moments before we were in each other’s arms again. We realized we’d been going at it for a couple of hours, and her sister could be getting off soon to come see her. We cleaned up and got ourselves together like nothing happened.

Now that we finally got to be together, the fun was just beginning.

The stone halls of the castle echoed with the sounds of revelry as the king and queen made their quiet exit towards their chambers. Her arm was under his, her hand resting on his forearm. The glow of the torches in the wrought iron sconces lit them as they strolled farther and farther from the banquet. They had played their part for the better part of 3 hours, and they were ready for something new.

Though the castle was brimming with guests and dignitaries, this hallway was deserted save for the posted guards. It wouldn’t be long before they were turning away drunken wanderers or sharing wine snuck away by serving staff, but for now they remained vigilant. These statue like men watched as their monarchs came to a stop with two sets of doors on either side of them.

The king looked to his wife and smiled at her. She returned his smile and gave his forearm a squeeze. For them, this was a deeply intimate gesture that said what they could not with words. They loved each other in their own way, a duty driven way. They had parented three children, all amazing and worthy heirs. They worked amazingly together on diplomatic matters, and she was responsible for this banquet tonight to celebrate the new treaty that would keep war from their land. The people loved her charity and they loved his sense of justice. They were the model king and queen, and this is where they said goodnight.

“Sleep well, my king,” she said as she slipped her hand from his arm.

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, giving her a kiss upon the back of her hand. She smirked at him and placed her hand upon his cheek. They turned and went through opposite doors.

What or who awaited the queen in her chambers was unknown to the king, though he had some guesses. He knew some of her lovers, but their respect for one another and their positions meant they did not get involved in one another’s affairs.

The king’s chambers were, at a glance, empty when he entered. A fire roared in his fireplace, providing warmth and light to the richly decorated space. The furniture was made of dark, sturdy wood, from his large bed frame to the tall clothing armoire. The bed was covered in warm furs and silken pillows, with space for more than just his royal frame. A tray of desserts and wine had been delivered and placed upon the table, a space for him to take private meals or respond to correspondence. The windows were open to let in the warm night air and fill the space with the floral scents of the east gardens below.

King Alexander Leon Dorn IV removed the crown from his head and unfastened the crushed velvet purple cape that hung around his shoulders. He placed the crown on the table and draped the cape upon the back of a chair, sighing as he did so.

“My king looked bored tonight,” she said as she stepped from her spot in the dark corner and made herself known to him. He had known she was there, her smell was noticeable even with the blooming flowers below his window, but he had said nothing. He liked when she surprised him.

She stepped with practiced lightness to the table where the wine awaited, two empty goblets begging to be filled. She picked up the pitched and began to fill them. “I thought tonight was a celebration?” She asked.

“It is,” he said, taking the wine from her. Her eyes looked directly into his, like she could see nothing else in the world. “We avoid war, which is always a good thing. No young men will be sent to die in my name. But, avoiding war is never as exciting as ending war.”

Alexander was a man as forged by battle as he was by his tutors. His grandfather stilled ruled when he was a lad in his early 20s, and it seemed there was always a war that man wanted to fight. He had a thirst for adventure then, and he took to the sword like others do instruments or sports. He saw and brought death, and he saw what war did to the common man. His father had hated war, and taught him how to be ready for it, but also to avoid it.

His companion’s eyes lit up. “So my king desires excitement,” she purred, setting down her wine.

She stepped away from him, allowing the darkness to shroud her again. Her steps made no noise, and he allowed her a moment to slip into hiding as he drained his drink and removed his surcoat. He could not help but grin at the girl’s playful spirit. His steps made far more sound than hers as he began to search for her.

“I would hunt you in a forest,” he said as he moved through the rooms. An owl gave its hoots outside. “I would chase you through rivers and valleys. Never would I rest.” There weren’t many places she could truly be, but he took his time with it. His posture changed, his hands before him ready to grab her at a moments notice. “I would find you.”

He spied her shoulder behind a tall mirror and practically lunged himself to her. She squealed with delight as he caught her and lifted her, her arms draping around him as her thighs pressed against his side to keep her up.

“And I would make you mine,” he growled to her.

Her breath has quickened, her heart racing. Her hands tangled in his hard as he claimed her back with his touch. She leaned down and kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth. “Claim me,” she whispered after the kiss.

He would not sleep yet tonight.

---

Hello, and thank you for reading. I am looking to explore a story between a king and his loved, one who is not the queen. Many royal marriages were out of necessity and convenience, so it would be no surprise for royalty to look elsewhere to meet other needs.

I left some of the details vague for us to figure out together and for you to give your input. The biggest one is, who is this king’s lover? Is it a serving girl that caught his eye and is now enjoying life above her station? Perhaps it is another noble lady, or a woman from a foreign kingdom. I am open to many ideas and want to hear yours. I would also love for us to find the story here that most appeals to us. That story could be more slice of life, stealing the moments they can, or it could be one with more drama, intrigue, and romance.

Come to share ideas and explore passion.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

They didn’t even call the first one a kaiju. It was called the Unidentified Reptilian Entity when it emerged and wreaked havoc all along the Jersey Shore. The URE was a quadrupedal lizard the size of an elephant that seemed more confused than aggressive. Still, it left over two dozen people dead, over 100 injured, and several million dollars worth of property damage in its wake. They tried to capture it for 24 hours before finally getting the order to eliminate it. The whole world was speculating as scientists from all over convened to cut it open and see what was going on.

The second one hit the Japanese town of Kamakura before they could announce any findings. International discussions about what to do if this was just the beginning were interrupted by one the size of two story house rampaging up and down the Swahili coast. The autopsies of the first three all revealed the same thing, that these were sea creatures all mutated by years of chemicals and plastics dumped onto the oceans, and it was only going to get worse. Many saw it as a punishment for man’s sins, hubris, negligence, or a dozen other words. Some said it was the Earth fighting back.

The Kaiju Defense Force formed overnight, an international coalition of military and volunteers looking to protect humanity from destruction. Politics got in the way of the KDF’s growth at first, but then kaiju taller than buildings and more deadly than before began to emerge from the ocean’s depths. Some nations never got to join, their populations and lands so destroyed by kaiju attacks that they were all but wiped out. Tallies of the dead were so large that we could only estimate the body counts.

“Over 1 billion people have died in kaiju attacks, with millions more injured or displaced by the destruction,” Zaire Amadi, one of the founding members of the KDF said at the 2nd KDF International Summit. “The defense that the KDF provides is no longer enough. It is time for us to think about offense.”

The KNIGHT Program was approved that very night. Countries pledged material and manpower, monetary amounts weren’t even discussed. For one brief moment, all of humanity was in agreement. We would no longer just react to attacks, we would be ready to fight back.

The KNIGHT Tank Mach 1 was the first creation of the program. They were tanks on 6 legs that could maneuver through streets and wreckage, getting to the kaiju quickly. Victory was snatched from the jaws of defeat until crews gained more experience, and then it was more decisive. The Mach 2 and Mach 3 just continued to improve in both power and speed. The tanks were not the end goal though.

The KNIGHT Warrior I was a feat of engineering. Squat, bipedal machines could now march through the streets and face a kaiju head on. Like the tanks, several pilots perished in those early fights. It took the toughest to survive and keep fighting, learning more each time. The Warrior II was lighter and faster. The Warrior III could not move as fast, but it was durable enough to withstand basic kaiju attacks and keep going while having even greater firepower.

They were the limit of what humans could achieve, or so the general scientific community believed. Small teams were required to pilot a Warrior, and multiple people always meant limitations. The crews could not get too small before useful functions and weapons were lost. Multiple pilots meant room for conflict and human error, and the stress was too much for some teams. AI and automated systems were proposed and tested, but they were often too aggressive and lacked any sense of self preservation, or were too reckless when humans were present during fights.

Alexandra Ortiz, the head of the KNIGHT Program summed up her worries like this. “Right now, we are winning,” she wrote to the KDF Board. “However, our enemy continues to evolve and grow stronger. We have reached the limit of what the Warrior initiative can achieve. Before long, our offense will return to defense, and we will be hoping that we can kill the kaiju before they kill too many of us.”

A few scientist and engineers dared to dream bigger. The answer did not come from the periodic table or quantum physics, but from Freudian psychology. Dr Nico Steiner developed the game changing Freud Engine, a three part control system that reduced the number of needed crew down to just 2 who would be acting as one.

Stage 1 of the Freud Engine is the Id, an AI whose singular purpose is the destruction of kaiju, no questions asked. This is tempered by the Ego, a human mind merged with the AI to guide it. In order to achieve this merger, the human consciousness must have no other distractions, requiring the human to be suspended in a specially designed sensory deprivation chamber. This requires a second person to make all decisions for the robot, given to the Ego via a neurotelepahtic link. This person is the Superego. Working together, the three can achieve perfect control and lightning fast decisions for the mechs.

Two random people off the street are not capable of piloting a KNIGHT Warrior IV. It takes a certain amount of compatibility in several key metrics for two people to successful pilot one, and anything below the minimum threshold would mean the Id takes control. Those first tests were not pretty. Instant and fatal brain aneurysms took the lucky ones. Others experienced debilitating psychosis, loss of bodily autonomy, and a whole list of other life ruining effects. Some in the international community began to push for the program to be aborted, but Alexandra Ortiz’s warnings were starting to come true.

By the time the first compatible pair was found, kaiju were regularly survive encounters with Warrior III’s. While enough resources were being pooled to make Warrior IV a reality, they began to defeat the FDK machines. Nearly half of the Earth’s population was dead or missing, and kaiju were just getting stronger. They could survive on land now, some of them burrowing. Nowhere was safe.

The KNIGHT Warrior IV brought the safety back. They were elegant, such speed and power that the kaiju were no match. We managed to scrape enough together for three of them, and a new era had begun. People had time to move, to think, to plan. The remnants of humanity began to build again. Cities with walls, cities in mountains, an advanced aerial network. Oh, how the world had changed in just a few short decades.

James Harness was in the middle of his morning gym routine. He finished a bench press set and returned the bar to the rack. He sat up and stretched out. Sweat dripped down his forehead. He wiped his face with his towel, reaching down for his water bottle.

His mind was on the chess game he played last night. James had managed to get Lt. Murakami in check, and had him on the defensive for five more moves, but he lost to the lieutenant in the end. He was going over each move, trying to think if there was a better one he could have made. He was determined to beat the most serious man on the ship.

Since he did not have to do daily sync tests at the moment, he had a lot of free time. He was using it keeping up on kaiju briefings and learning chess in the afternoon, and then play anyone he could talk into it in the evening. He was, in a word, bored.

His aptitude and machine sync scores were through the roof, making him a prime candidate for the Freud Engine. With the right partner, they could pilot a KNIGHT Warrior V. The problem was finding someone that he could be compatible with to be the Ego to his Superego. Most of the candidates he met he walked out on within minutes. The few that made it to the second round were usually rejected. Only one had made it to the Freud Engine test and they had managed to show an 80% sync, the minimum threshold. James refused to be linked with anyone at the minimum.

He knew they needed to find someone for him fast. General Miller didn’t want to waste more time and resources on him if he wasn’t going to agree to a partner. The newer kaiju were beginning to show signs of resilience against the Warrior IV, so they would want to find prime candidates for the Warrior V as soon as possible. He was that hope, but some were starting to have doubts. James pushed these thoughts from his mind and lied down on the workout bench, the vinyl squeaking under his body. He gripped the bar and took a deep breath.

“James!” A voice interrupted him as he was about to lift. “James!”

He knew the voice. He sat up and turned towards the doorway nearby, a figure running towards him down the hall. It was Elise, one of the young engineers who helped keep the ship in the air. Like many KDF volunteers, her family had all been killed by a kaiju and she was left in the care of an overstuffed and underfunded foster system. She joined up as soon as they would take her.

Elise came to a pause in the doorway and paused, catching her breath. She did her best to push her wild, unkempt nest of hair out of her face. “The ship is landing soon,” she told him. “I just heard, they found someone. They think she’s the one for you.”

---

Is this a good prompt for r/dpp? I don’t know. I started writing it and it got away from me a bit, but I wanted to see it through. If you’ve made it this far, then you’re also a fan of world building and story crafting. I truly do believe there is a lot of room in this story for things like inter-personal relationships, romances conflict, action, and lots of smut. Yes, there’s lots of room for smut in there.

I don’t want to go on too long here since I just wrote a novel to set this up, so I’ll keep this brief. I am not looking to write that length every time, and I think post lengths can vary based on what’s going on in the story with a minimum of two well written paragraphs. I tend to write 2 - 5 based on what’s needed to move the story forward. While I wrote out a lot of ideas, I still want someone collaborative to write with.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

We weren’t ready to be parents, but excitement and youthful negligence lead to a pregnancy. Her father agreed that it was bad for his daughter and believed it was all my fault, which is why he packed his family up overnight and moved them far away from me. We barely got a chance to say goodbye before she was watching the place she had called home disappear out the back window.

Despite any of my efforts to find and reach her, I never could. An envelope arrived several months after she vanished with no return address. Inside was a picture of a baby girl wrapped in a hospital blanket with a pink beanie and a photocopy of a closed adoption agreement, all identifying details obscured. There was no note, no name, but there was a clear message.

Something that once seemed so big suddenly became a footnote in my story. It consumed my thoughts for a few days, and then it became background noise. Days became weeks and the thoughts lessened. At some point I blinked and a year had passed. As the amount of time grew between me and the arrival of that envelope, the more it felt like a dream, like something that had happened to someone else.

I don’t want it to sound like I never worried or wondered what if, those thoughts were plenty. Maybe we could have made a happy little family. I’d wonder if you ended up with a nasty Miss Hannigan type. Sometimes I’d even have amusing thoughts, like you yelling at your adoptive father that he isn’t your real dad like something from a cheesy sitcom. I wondered what your voice sounded like, if you looked like your mother, what parts of me you got. In the end they would all pass as idol curiosities.

I don’t often chat with college girls. It’s not that I avoid them or I’m mean to them, I just have nothing to talk about with them. When you and I met though, something clicked. There was an ease to our conversation, an assumed friendliness I didn’t think too much about. I loved making you smile.

I didn’t realize how much you reminded me of your mother. I only noticed how much your eyes are like mine in passing. I had no reason to suspect you were the one who sometimes came to my thoughts late at night. If I had any reason to suspect it, I wouldn’t have tried to kiss you.

---

Hello, and thank you for reading. I am looking for someone to explore the story of a father and daughter who never knew each other and unknowingly connect. An attraction develops, one that only becomes more complicated with time.

There are many details I want us to discuss here. How we meet, where we meet, and how the truth gets revealed should all be things we figure out together. I do have ideas, I just love collaboration on certain elements.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics (flexible on what this looks like), rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

That first night together became a core memory. The way she looked up at me when our bodies got close, how I knew I was grinning like an idiot all night long. Our lips met like that had always been destined to. We gripped one another as if we feared the other might float away if we didn’t hold tight. I learned the curves of her body and she discovered the strength of mine. By the time we were done, sweaty and satisfied and still wanting more, it was not yet dawn. We thought we could avoid it if we never went to sleep, and so we talked until the first rays of morning light stained the window.

The future was unknown, but the present was contentment.

We couldn’t get enough of one another, and it would never be enough. If I could go back to the me in those moments, I would tell him to treasure them more, to beg her for five more minutes together. I would be wishing for just one kiss more when she left a couple weeks later.

She needed space and who was I to say she couldn’t have it. Phone calls and texts would be unanswered. Our usual spots became haunting grounds for her memory. Sometimes I’d go to that bar where we met just in case, like she was going to walk through the door and tell me I’d solved the puzzle and she was my prize.

I was elated when she returned. Her name illuminated my screen, telling me she was ready for me again. The space she once desired now needed to be destroyed, our bodies drawn to one another like magnets. We evaded sleep once more, wrapped up in one another again. This time though, it didn’t have the feelings of a burgeoning love. Something crept into the back of my mind and took root there.

How long until she’s gone again?” It whispered.

I tried to dismiss it, thinking the thought just paranoia. Maybe that’s what wisdom is. She did leave again, of course. A pattern emerged that I was far more at the mercy of than I had any semblance of control over.

She would come to me, an angel of love and desire. We would steal our moments of pleasure and happiness, sometimes for weeks and sometimes just for days, before she would be gone again. When I was lucky, she would tell me she was going. When I wasn’t, which was more often than I would be lucky, she would simply vanish.

I know I’m an idiot. I know I shouldn’t answer when her name appears on my screen. I know I should just delete her contact and never think of her again. I know what I should do, but that’s not what I’ve done.

And so I wait for her again. Not as an eager puppy might, stationed at the door with tail ready to wag. I wait for her like an inevitability, like the ocean waits for the pull of the moon. I wait for her fire again, even though I know it’s burn.

---

A story of desire and longing, of two people who can’t make it work but that doesn’t stop it from happening again and again. I am looking for someone to explore these feelings with in a story driven roleplay. We can’t stay apart, but we also can’t stay together. I know you’ll be gone, and you know I’ll be there when you come back.

Who are these two to each other? I think that question has many possible answers. Perhaps they’re strangers who met one night and now find they cannot escape each other’s orbit. Maybe it is a woman still in the throes of youth who finds an older man she desires, but still wants to see the world. It could be a story of tragedy, of those wanting comfort and stability, but that is never their reward. You can tell me what ideas appeal to you, or we can find something together.

My kinks are many and varied and I never consider any of them must haves if one is not your speed. Some of my favorites are passion, affection, oral, anal, teasing/edging, partially/clothed sex, lingerie, thigh highs, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex (but not always), public/risk of getting caught, name calling, light pain, group (preferably FFM), taboo pairings, and a lot more. If it’s not listed, I am likely still open to it.

My limits are bimbos/bimbofication, feminization of males, gore, scat, beastiality, and rape.

P.S. If this situation feels familiar to you, if it resonates in any particular way, let me know.