Ally had only donned the figure-hugging red dress a few minutes earlier, but already she was removing it, far too eager to have Rose ogle her nubile body to keep herself under wraps for even a second longer. She giggled as the dress fell to the floor and her skimpy lace lingerie was revealed. ‘See anything you like, stud?’ she purred. From her position on the bed, Rose fought the
Craig had spent weeks wondering what his transformation would feel like. He’d imagined a slow, orgasmic change working its way through his limbs and engulfing his genitals – a gradual corruption of his mind as every thought was twisted with slutty desire and hedonistic arousal. He had even put thought into what he would do with the male clothes that would no longer fit him once he had been reshaped
‘Oh fuck yes,’ Ricardo groaned, one huge hand cupping Brendan’s head firmly. ‘Choke on my fat dick you filthy fucking cunt. That’s it, take it deep. Throat it like the needy fag you are.’ Nestled between Ricardo’s legs, one hand around his master’s cock, the other toying with Ricardo’s ass, and his mouth fully occupied, Brendan couldn’t even make a gesture in response. All he could do was fix his
Laid out over Rhianne’s lap like a lounging cat, James’ new body was a storm of foreign sensations and unexpected desires. As he had expected, apprehension embraced him like an old friend, its cold claws buried in his heart and piercing his stomach a stark contrast to the warm light of the festive fairy lights festooning the walls. Yet with every passing second his nerves were ebbing, dulled by the
Fantasy Resort’s communal lounge was sleek, comfortable and, presently, abuzz with hushed conversation. Ordinarily it was a space where the resort’s guests could relax together, chatting over drinks poured from the well-stocked bar set towards the back of the room. Tonight, however, the crowd was quiet, huddling together in little groups and whispering amongst themselves while casting furtive glances at the other people in the room, their suspicious gossip driven
Her hands full of laden paper bags, Phoebe kicked the door closed behind her. Dropping her cargo on the rug she gave a weary sigh as she slumped back against the door, groaning as the exertion of the day caught up to her. Her arms ached, her back protested against every minor movement, and her feet felt as though she had gone about the entire day barefoot – she wouldn’t
The grounds of Fantasy Resort were still as Brooke meandered along the winding paved pathways. Still, but not quiet. While the waters of the many pools were calm and undisturbed, the spreading palms barely ruffled by the sea breeze and the path lights cast a warm, comforting glow to illuminate the walkways and communal areas, the air was thick with moaning, groaning, and the occasional resounding crack of a hand
Disclaimer: the male model in this scene, Bill Bailey, passed away in 2019. If in light of this you do not wish to view his work, please skip this chapter. Waving Brooke off with a smile, Nia waited until she had disappeared amongst the buildings of the resort spa before turning back inside. As she did so, she thought she heard a faint and distinctly erotic moan coming from the
Ophelia could not deny there were worse places to spend her vacation. The sun was scorching, yet the burning rays were tempered by the fronds of hunchbacked palms, which stooped over her like servants clutching broad, green fans. The reflection of the pool dappled the walls of her villa in dancing silver patterns, while the cool sea breeze carried with it the distant caw of exotic ocean birds as it
She was pacing. That was what worried Harriet the most. She never paced. Not when one of the nerds failed to complete her homework. Not on the rare occasion a man turned her down, imagining himself to be too good for her. Not even when her parents had briefly considered moving halfway across the country, a decision that would have robbed her of her position as the clique’s queen bee
