“Dawn’s mind wanders. Her cunt throbs with her pulse. What must she look like to the dragon? Small and pale against the expanse of rock.”
A short story about being sacrificed to a dragon.
Full-length short stories that you can enjoy when you have a little longer to linger,
“Dawn’s mind wanders. Her cunt throbs with her pulse. What must she look like to the dragon? Small and pale against the expanse of rock.”
A short story about being sacrificed to a dragon.
“She tells me about the guys she’s fucked so far, counting them off on her fingers. The jazz musician. The nerd. One threesome.”
A short story about a chance meeting, and blood.
An interactive fiction about slaying (or laying) a marauding dragon…
“Penny wants to fuck me, but she’s too shy to ask. When we speak in person she touches me frequently, flirts constantly, drops endless hints.”
A short story about asking for what you want.
“It never takes them long to make her come. The light sensation of their touch. A warmth that spreads from the point of contact, seeping through her skin. Magic.”
A short story about a magical masturbatory fantasy.
“Half a mile down the track, having seen not a single other person, he puts the collar on her. The metal one, which locks with a screw.”
A short story about a pet play training exercise.
“Later you fuck, roughly and at length. You think that it might be the last time. She bites your arm and you pull her hair, driving into her…”
A short story about sex and social media.
“With about a hundred miles left to cover, she hitched up her skirt to around her waist and sunk a hand between her legs.”
A vignette about a roadtrip.
“In the first week she tries to refrain as much as possible. She is afraid that if she overuses this newfound ability it will disappear as quickly as it came…”
A short story about suddenly being able to come.
“Hans stretched his arms above his head between shots. He took long breathes to help his creativity marinate. By the third or fourth outfit change he was grabbing at a pair of braces and a captain’s hat…”
An extract from the sugar dating memoir Dear Mr Andrews by Lotte Latham.