A Fictional Story by Camwhore1. Kevin sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, his hands clasped between his knees, his heart hammering so loud he was sure the neighbors could hear it. The bedroom smelled like Vanessa’s perfume — something floral and dark — and the fresh sheets she’d put on that afternoon. White sheets. She’d laughed when she’d chosen them, said they’d show everything. She was in the bathroom now, doing whatever women did that took forty-five minutes
Read moreA Fictional SPH Story by limpshrimp83. The weather broke on a Tuesday. I don’t mean it got a little warmer. I mean it went from thirty degrees and frost on the windshield to seventy-eight and full sun in the space of about forty-eight hours, like the atmosphere had just gotten bored of winter and decided to skip spring entirely. The kind of heat that arrives with attitude, making you open every window in your apartment, stand in front of the
Read moreA Fictional Story by VaderSomething. Greece changes you. Not in the spiritual, eat-pray-love way that people talk about in essays about finding themselves abroad, but in smaller, more permanent ways—the way your skin holds the salt, the way your sense of time loosens, the way you stop caring about things that used to seem important. I spent two years working on the islands, and I can tell you that the version of me who arrived—cautious, self-conscious, measuring himself against invisible
Read moreA Fictional Story by Illustrious_Pen_7964. I keep my body shaved and not trimmed, not groomed, not manscaped—shaved. Every part of it. Chest, stomach, arms, legs, underarms. The works. I’ve been doing it for years, since I started competing, and at this point the routine is as automatic as brushing my teeth. Once a week I sit on the edge of the bathtub with a razor and a can of shaving cream, and I go over every surface, careful and methodical,
Read moreA Fictional Story by mywifeishot888. The hotel in Krakow had the kind of walls that were less walls and more suggestions. Decorative partitions. Polite illusions of privacy. I’d checked in the previous afternoon, dropped my bag on the bed, and heard the person in the next room unzip their suitcase clear as a bell. I’d heard someone two doors down sneeze. I’d heard a toilet flush on the floor above me. The building was old—pre-war, maybe older—and it had been
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Opening-Share-7303. I was so high I could barely move. That doesn’t sound like the beginning of a sex story. Maybe it isn’t—maybe it’s the beginning of the middle of one, or the end of the beginning, or some moment in a relationship where the line between being a body and being a person blurs and you’re just a collection of nerve endings floating in warm chemical fog. But that’s where it started, and I’m not going
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Logical_Post5421. I met my wife on Match.com. I want to say that upfront because it matters—because the way we started sets the stage for everything that came after. It was a curated beginning: profiles, messages, photos chosen to present the best version of ourselves. By the time we met in person, we’d already built each other up in our heads. She knew I was funny. She knew I was employed. She knew I was attentive. She
Read moreAn SPH Experience by ThreePies_SQ7. I’ve always known. That’s the thing. It’s not like some revelation that hit me one day. I’ve known since I was a teenager, since the first time I stood in a locker room and realized that what I had wasn’t just below average—it was noticeably, undeniably small. Twelve centimeters hard. Three centimeters soft. And soft was where the real problem lived, because three centimeters isn’t a penis. It’s a suggestion. A rumor. A little pink
Read moreA Fictional Story by andreinamsterdam. Chapter 1 It was not only frustrating but a little humiliating in a way. Flat-sharing had worked well for me for years, but at 32 I was more than ready to be independent. I wanted the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted, walk around in my underwear or less if I wanted – basically become an independent guy. I’d been looking around for a place to buy for ages, but the market
Read moreA Fictional Story by MinimusPuck. Intelligence gathering came naturally to her. However, she wasn’t yet sure if he was her man. It was as if he were hiding something from her. From the world. She had spotted him on the L train, coming home from work, nearly invisible to everyone but her. Not to miss her opportunity, she followed him home, to the apartment where he lived. She rented out the apartment down the hall, paying far more than necessary
Read moreA Fictional Story by GretaLarkin. There have to be thirteen of them. Sigma Beta Chi has never known why. It is simply in the agreement, the way the date is in the agreement, the way it has been since the house on Lorimer Street was built. Thirteen pledges come over on the Friday before bid night. Not twelve. Not fourteen. If they cannot field thirteen, the chapter finds a thirteenth, and they always find him, and Odessa Fontaine has never
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Mammoth_Dare_2174. I need to tell this story. I’ve been turning it over in my head for months, and the memory won’t settle. It keeps resurfacing at the worst times—in the shower, at work, in bed when my husband is sleeping and I’m staring at the ceiling, replaying it frame by frame. The shame is still sharp. The arousal is still there underneath it, the way it always is, the way my body has been wired to
Read moreAn SPH Experience by mdigi31. There’s a specific kind of paranoia that sets in when you have a secret you’re not sure is secret anymore. It’s not the dramatic, heart-pounding paranoia of a thriller. It’s worse. It’s the low, constant hum of something being slightly off. The feeling of walking into a room where people were just talking, and the conversation shifts a beat too quickly, and everyone’s smiling, and you can’t tell if the smile means we’re happy to
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Smart_Hyena7440. I’m writing this two days later, and my face is still hot when I think about it. I’ve replayed it a hundred times. I’ll probably replay it a hundred more. My stomach does this thing—this flip—every time the image surfaces, which is constantly, because my brain has decided that this memory deserves permanent residency in my frontal lobe. I need to get it down. I need to describe it, from start to finish, because the
Read moreA Fictional Story by GretaLarkin. I changed the spreadsheet on the second Monday in March. It took four minutes. I opened the payroll file as I do every Monday, placed my cursor in the box next to my name, deleted “office help,” typed “Controller,” and hit save. Then I sat there a while with my hands in my lap. Nobody said a word about it for several days. Then Roger came into my office with the quarterly, stood in the
Read moreA Fictional Story by liveantelope. As we entered the bar, all I could think about was: ‘How did we end up here?‘ My wife and I have been together for five years now. We met and married when we were quite young. Now, both of us are 26; that felt like a lifetime ago. Jenn stood at 5’4″, with a petite body and long dark hair. My name is Fred, and I stand at just 5’6″, with an athletic build.
Read moreA Fictional Story by anonymous2727. Read Part 1 Here. ***** Part 2… The next week was the hardest. People whispered about me when I passed them in the halls, girls like Tara and Amanda openly called me Tiny to my face, and the video of my utter humiliation at Jake’s hands was playing on repeat throughout the campus. I wanted to switch schools, but Lucy got me through it. My mom and sister supported me too. I’m not sure they
Read moreAn SPH Experience by newpatek09. I’d been dating Lana for two months. Two months of hand-holding, make-out sessions that left me aching, and a growing dread that coiled tighter in my stomach every time things got even remotely heated. She had no idea what I was packing. Or rather, what I wasn’t packing. Three inches. Hard. And no girth to speak of. Like a pink highlighter with the cap off. We were hanging out in her room that evening. Her
Read moreAn SPH Experience by PhysicalDot7178. I should probably start by explaining how I ended up naked in a Czech woman’s flat in the first place, because the journey there is part of what made the landing so devastating. You don’t just stumble into a situation like this. You work your way toward it through a series of small decisions, each one feeling reasonable in the moment, and then you’re standing in a stranger’s living room with your boxers around your
Read moreAn SPH Experience by True-Interest5283. I need to set the scene before I get to the moment, because the moment doesn’t work without the context. It’s one of those things where the buildup is what makes the hit land. If I just tell you that my girlfriend said my dick was smaller than her ex’s in front of our friends, you’d think: okay, that’s embarrassing, but so what? People talk about exes. People compare. It happens. But that’s not what
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