Her Witness (A Lesbian Agent)

TRIGGER WARNING This story contains elements that some may not wish to read. I will list them below. Degradation Pain Piss Depictions/allusions to mental health, trauma, and self-harm Along with these I have included healing, love, and aftercare I left work with one thing on my mind. Not really a surprise I guess, who can blame me considering what was waiting for me at home? I defy anyone to know what awaited me and be able to think about anything else after a long day of meetings and repeating myself time and again to rich arrogant douchebags who refused to admit that they had no idea what they were talking about? Anyway, as you can probably guess I drove home with visions of her in my head. Soft gentle curves, long brown hair, the biggest brightest eyes you've ever seen looking up at you. And that mouth... the single most perfect set of lips to ever slide around a cock and a teasing tongue to match. I could feel my pants tightening as I imagined running my thumb across those li

~~ All characters in this book are 18 or over. ~~ == || < > || == There are times, Olivia Lee thought, when being a superhero is a real pain in the ass. She surveyed the bar with a suppressed sigh. It was Friday night in Des Moines, the city was hopping, but rather than being out and about herself, trolling for a good man to keep her busy in bed all night, she was at Butcher Brewing Company, preventing the city's supervillians from ruining everyone's evening. Pausing in the entranceway, she smoothed the fabric of her bright red dress over her golden Asian skin, the lights above the bar picking out highlights in her blue-black hair. Large breasts that sneered at the very idea of a bra peeked coyly over the swooping neckline, large nipples pressing firmly into the cloth. Four-inch heels lifted her off the ground and accentuated the gorgeous curves of her legs and hips, the hem of the dress barely serving to meet the needs of decency. Shimmering with its own internal light

1 My boyfriend Tyson and I play this game where I don't wear a bra and he doesn't wear boxers. We then go out in public and grope one another as we walk around. It turns me on so much. My hands can't help both to find him between his legs and fondle him. My favorite piece of clothing my boyfriend owns is his light grey joggers. He is so soft as I fondle him through them. You can feel everything. And there is nowhere for him to go. Nowhere for him to hide himself. He looks really big and sexy through his joggers. Low key I masturbate thinking about Tyson in his joggers all the time. 2 One time I went with my boyfriend Tyson to the mall. I wore a short skirt and crop top braless. You could just barely see my nipples. And my boyfriend wore a white t and his grey joggers boxerless. I couldn't help but check out his package at every available opportunity. Just walking around the mall with him got me so wet and excited. We held hands and rubbed our bodies against one anothe

"I hate sentinel duty," Rahima Hassan said to herself, shaking her head. The six-foot-tall, dark-skinned and curvy young African American woman hefted her rifle and stood on the Rampart. The eighty-meter-high, three-meter-thick cement wall was all that separated the remnants of metropolitan Detroit, Michigan, from the Darkness. Beyond the City lights, there was nothing but darkness. Rahima couldn't hear the endless moans and growls of the Undead, but she knew they were out there... Everything outside of The City ( most people under fifty didn't call it Detroit anymore ) belong to the Zombies. Such is life for what remains of Humanity within the United States of America. Anyone who ventured out of the City of Detroit was considered a lost cause. The world beyond was a desolate place. Exile from The City, the harshest punishment administered to the worst of criminals, meant certain death. The Electorate, the twelve-member supreme council which rules The City, simply c

[Note to Readers: This is not a story with quick short sex scenes, so if that is your goal, it might not suit you. The reason it is long though is because of very detailed sex scenes, as well as an attempt to explore the mind of an inexperienced eighteen year old girl-that part is even more invented than the rest of the story] "Grandpa, wake up." Sally felt especially nervous. It was the 13th day that Sally had been sent to wake up her grandfather, which had started Sally's sexual education. The eighteen year old was superstitious, like most of the students at the Lost Salem Bible School for Girls, and for that matter, most adherents of her congregation, the Church of Lot's Daughters. So the 13th morning was bound to be unlucky, and to make it worse, today Sally's Mom had not sent her up to wake Mom's father, who lived with them. He had been the patriarch that Sally's Mom had employed to have initiate her daughter, just as Mom had been taught about sex b

John worked at the corner store/gas station next to where I worked. I would often stop there and put gas in my car or buy stuff. He was what I would call a "Man's Man" in the context of gay sexual preferences. That is to say he was very masculine (though he was quite short) and very well-built and he was only interested in masculine men (like me). He also made no secret about being gay or that I was to his liking. He knew I was attached to a woman but always dropped hints about how interested he was in me. My girlfriend thought it was really sweet the way he would almost be drooling over me whenever he would see me. She even jokingly suggested that I should spend a night with him because he was such a nice guy and it would make him so happy. Over the course of time I kept running into him and he was always interested in talking to me. One day he even gave me his phone number under some pretext. I never let on my occasional bisexual side because if I did it would have be