A 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 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 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 moreA Fictional Story by hardlyhanging11. The hot springs are an hour from my house, up a road that winds through hills that get browner and drier the higher you go. I’ve made the drive six times now. I know the potholes. I know the cattle guard that rattles my teeth. I know the point where the cell signal drops and the radio goes to static, and it’s just me, the road, and the anticipation building in my chest like a
Read moreA Fictional Story by anonymous2727. My name is Jimmy Lee, and today is my birthday. I usually don’t make a big deal about it, or even expect people to wish me a happy birthday; I’m more the type to lay low. However, after my terrible freshman year, I decided as a sophomore I would make an effort to fit in and be more outgoing. So I decided to throw a party and invite everyone I knew. I was super excited,
Read moreAn SPH Experience by NenGuten. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I need to get it out somewhere. This isn’t a fantasy. This isn’t a scenario I constructed for kicks. This is just my life, and the lives of probably a lot of guys like me, played out in small, humiliating increments across every public bathroom I’ve ever walked into. — Public bathrooms for men are designed by people who don’t have my problem. That’s the only
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Ok-Tutor-7517. I’ve had a few embarrassing experiences being seen nude by strangers, and they’ve all been super awkward, of course. Thankfully, I enjoy thinking about them afterward. But there is one that I don’t enjoy, and I am not sure why. Actually, there is more than one. I am happy to share the others if anyone is interested. But let me explain the one that bothers me slightly. — I was in my mid-twenties, and it
Read moreA Fictional Story by Quietoldie. My wife Jane is a stunner. I met her shortly after her first marriage ended. We met at a party at a mutual friend’s house. I was immediately drawn to her beauty and effervescent personality, even though she was sitting very close to another man. They were clearly an item, although neither was wearing a wedding ring. He kept touching her leg as they talked. I was captivated by her looks. She was showing a
Read moreA Fictional Story by Jane42GG. Prologue My submissive has been waiting for over a week for me to allow him to cum. We meet in his small apartment on a rainy day. He adores being caged and having me mock his small penis as part of our play. He wears his cage when we are apart. *** A Caged Submissive’s Reward His tiny cock sticks out like a steel hook from which to hang small items. So I do. I
Read moreAn SPH Experience by BigBobbigbob. I don’t talk about this one much. It’s not the kind of story you bring up at dinner. But it happened, and it stuck with me in a way I still don’t fully understand. Years later, I can close my eyes and see the fluorescent lights on the ceiling of that hospital ward, feel the cold air on my skin, and remember exactly how it felt to realize, far too late, that I was completely
Read moreA Fictional Story by ButtonBoy33. There’s a reason grey sweats have a reputation. You see the memes, the tweets, the jokes—always about guys who are packing, guys whose dicks are visible through the thin fabric, guys who wear them like a billboard. “Grey sweatpants season.” That’s the phrase. It’s supposed to be a compliment. A flex. A declaration. Nobody talks about what grey sweats do when you’re not packing. Nobody makes memes about that. But I can tell you from
Read moreA Fictional Story by HotWoman38. The gin was Nick’s punishment. That’s what we called it—his punishment for losing three rounds of “never have I ever” in a row. He’d been forced to admit he’d never cooked a meal for himself, never lasted more than a week without texting his mom, and never let a girl finish first. That last one earned a collective “ohhh” from everyone in the tub, and Nick’s face went red before he started loudly insisting it
Read moreA Fictional Story by MinimumSiz3 I never planned for that night to go the way it did. None of us did, probably. It started the way most university nights start—bad vodka, cheap mixers, someone’s flat that smelled like incense and dirty dishes, four people sitting on the floor because there weren’t enough chairs. That was it. That was the whole plan. Drink, talk, maybe go home, maybe not. The kind of night that’s supposed to be forgettable. It wasn’t. —
Read moreA Fictional Story by CuckedLoser55. Karen had been dropping hints for weeks. Subtle at first—a comment about how she’d been reading articles about “opening up” a marriage, a podcast she’d been listening to about couples exploring their fantasies. But tonight, sitting across from her husband Tom at the dinner table, she decided just to say it. “I want to try a threesome.” Tom set down his fork. His face went through several expressions in rapid succession—surprise, confusion, something that looked
Read moreA Fictional Story by Camwhore1. The water had seemed so inviting. Turquoise, warm, practically begging him to come in. Todd had waded out past his waist, past his chest, and started swimming parallel to the shore like he always did. Just a quick workout. Nothing serious. He didn’t notice the riptide until it had him. One second he was stroking easily, breathing side to side, and the next he was being dragged sideways and out with a force that made
Read moreA Fictional Story by kleincox. -1- A couple of months ago, my wife invited her sister over one Saturday morning to do some scrapbooking. My wife recommended that I work in the yard so they could have some privacy. Yard work is one of my least favorite ways to spend a Saturday morning, but it did need some attention, and I was not in the mood to deal with my sister-in-law’s criticism. We had never really gotten along, and she
Read moreA Fictional Story by Runtz4. Growing up with sisters, you learn to deal with certain things as a boy. As the most shared space and the one where the most private matters occur, the bathroom creates a significant arena of tension among siblings. You learn to live with hair all over the place, with products crowding the sink. And what seemed like an ever-growing assortment of shampoos, conditioners, and cleansers in the shower. Here’s what I know: girls use a
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