The Jock and the Sissy [Preview]

[pre-story]So, this happened. I was originally intending this to be last month's 'free' musing. Then I was just gonna double up and have it count as both last month's and this month's. Now here we are, and it can only be called a full-on chapter.
Mostly, I just wanted to try writing something new, something I hadn't tried before, and I've have a lot of requests for gay stuff. Personally, I consider myself like, a 1 or a 2 on the Kinsey scale, but I've never felt particularly inspired to write about male-on-male stuff, and, obviously, the market leans toward straight stuff. But then I started writing, and the story just kept coming! Inspiration is a fickle mistress.
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy.
WARNING: If you couldn't guess, this story is about two dudes gettin' it on, so if you're not interested, avert your eyes now.
[redacted] [/pre-story]

At first glance, Brad looked like the stereotypical dumb jock, with a looming, six-eight, musclebound body, broad shoulders usually draped in a loose-fitting jersey, short-buzzed black hair, a square jaw with perpetual stubble and a heavy brow that made him look like vaguely caveman-ish. But appearances are often deceiving. While he wasn’t particularly smart (or, at least, didn’t consider himself to be), he thought of himself as a rather accepting, progressive sort of guy, a counterpoint to the stereotypical homophobic bully jock. Unfortunately, in his smallish, semi-rural town, he was definitely the exception to the rule, and the rest of the football team was more than happy to live up to that expectation. Though, they quickly learned that Brad wouldn’t tolerate bullying in his presence, and he was big and strong enough to make the fight not worth it, even for a group of them.

That wasn’t to say they didn’t do any bullying. Brad couldn’t be everywhere at once, after all. There was one target in particular the team loved to pick on when Brad wasn’t around. Sam. Short and slim, with mid-length tousled brown hair, even though he was a fellow senior it was easy enough to mistake him for a freshman… or a girl, if you looked at him from the back. It turned out he had some sort of medical thing where he didn’t make testosterone right, and by the time he’d found out about it, it was too late, puberty had passed him by. It left him looking, well… girly. Barely any muscle, almost no body hair, and a face that tread the line between ‘childish’ and ‘feminine’.

Sam was an easy target for bullies, but thankfully, he had Brad on his side. Ever since freshman year, when Brad had stepped in to stop a couple varsity players from beating him up, Sam had been following him around like a lost puppy. The team didn’t bully him when they were together, and Brad didn’t mind his presence (or help with his math homework). At first, they weren’t really friends, just sorta stuck together, but over time they’d bonded. Turned out sports weren’t so boring to watch once you actually understood what was going on, and once he got over his initial hesitation, Brad discovered he actually really liked anime (though he preferred dubs, the philistine).

Unfortunately for Sam, Brad wasn’t always there. When he’d been called out of lunch to go talk with Coach Holland about a scholarship, Sam knew he was in trouble. When the team closed in on him from all sides, like a pack of wolves, his suspicions were proven right. Jeff had thrown his arm around Sam’s shoulders and smiled and laughed like they were old friends as he guided the smaller boy out into the hall, the rest of the team falling in around them once they were away from the watchful eyes of the teachers. Soon the mask of friendliness was gone, and he was being forcefully led through the halls and outside into the rain-soaked grass, the team forming a living wall of cover to hide him as they dragged him around behind the gym, where the new equipment building was being built.

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By The Horns Ch. 5, P. 2 [Preview]

[pre-story]So, I decided to break the main part of the chapter up into two parts, because holy fuck this is getting to be massive. If you add up all parts I've written so far, it's about 18k words, and I'm still only like half-done with the last part. I feel a lot less guilty about posting this part than I did about the first one, because this one is definitely sexy. I can't say exactly when the last part will come out, my productivity has been just all over the place lately,  but I'll be working hard to get it finished (also, got me some new pills that should help), and I'm really, really hoping I can get it done in time to post it this month.
[redacted][/pre-story]

Unlikely Adversaries, Part 2 [Preview]

Rhuno gripped the metal spike in one calloused, three-fingered hand, raised it high, then swung with all his strength, bringing it sweeping down into a brutal horizontal stab, driving it deep into the tough material and giving it a sharp twist at the end. Then he let go, leaving the spike planted there, and stepped back, watching with baited breath. Finally, a trickle of amber liquid began to pour forth, and Rhuno laughed, his voice a booming rumble like distant thunder across the plains. Glitz and Ginny both wore expressions of surprise, Ginny’s mixed with glee and Glitz’ with dismay. The tauren wore a broad, triumphant grin as he stepped forward again, reaching out, one hand turning off the spigot he’d just driven in as the other grabbed the first pitcher of pale ale from the freshly-tapped keg.

Ginny stepped forward too, marvelling at the barrel, one small hand coming up to touch the rough oak surface. “Looks like you lost, Glitz!”

Glitz' expression turned to one of amused, begrudging acceptance as she reached into her pocket, but Rhuno simply grinned. “I warned you, I used to do it all the time! Made a lot of gold off new crusaders with that trick. Not a lot to do in northrend except fight and drink.” He added, leaning against a wall as he raised the pitcher to his lips and took a swig.

When Rhuno lowered the pitcher again, the foam clung to his upper lip in a pale moustache. Glitz giggled a bit as she fished out a coin and flipped it haphazardly in Rhuno’s general direction. The shining disk arced gracefully through the air, only to land with an undignified splash in his pitcher of ale. There was a half a moment of silence, then all three cracked up, giggling and laughing as the golden disk sank through the amber liquid to settle at the bottom.

Ginny shook her head as the giggle-fit wore off. “Ohh, wow… I think finding that funny means I’m officially drunk.”

Glitz giggled again, shaking her head. “How can somebody with ‘Gin’ in their name be such a lightweight?”

“Hey!” Ginny objected as she poured herself another gnome-sized glass of ale. “First…” She began, gesturing at the two now-empty kegs that had preceded this one. “...That’s a lot of alcohol! And second, Ginnfizzle is a perfectly normal name that has nothing to do with alcohol! My mom was named Ginnfizzle!” She explained, then paused, looking thoughtful, before muttering “...Though, grandpa did own a bar, and she was working there when dad met her...”

Glitz giggled uncontrollably at that revelation, tipping backward until she fell off her stool, hitting the floor with a dull thump, still laughing. “A bar wench! YOU’RE a bar wench’s daughter? Fuck, the apple must’ve rolled a LONG way from the tree!”

“Mom was NOT a bar-wench!” Ginny pouted, then paused, the full comment percolating through the haze of alcohol. “...Hey, wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Glitz wiped at the corners of her eyes as she pushed herself up off the floor. “Ginny. Honey.” She began. “You know yer shit with machines and wires an’ crap, sure… but you are SO stiff and awkward.” She explained.

“I’m not stiff!” Ginny objected, planting her hands on her hips as she scowled at Glitz, looking inescapably like a child mid-tantrum.

Glitz shook her head as she sat up fully. “Yer stiff as a board right now! You talk stiff, you walk stiff, you act stiff! You’d be a terrible bar wench!” Glitz replied. “Wenches gotta be relaxed, they gotta be flexible, an’ graceful, an’ sexy! Like dancers, but they gotta talk to people too.” She explained, sagely, giving her arms an illustrative wiggle.

“I am NOT stiff!” Ginny reiterated, scowling a little harder. “Look!” She exclaimed, lifting her mostly-full glass to her lips and chugging its contents, before slamming the empty vessel down on the table.
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Happy Birthday Ch. 3 [preview]

[pre-story]It. Is. Done! This one nearly killed me. I bit off WAY more than I could chew, as usual, and between writer's block and getting sick, it just... it took forever. I ended up breaking the scenes we had planned for this one into two distinct chapters. Ultimately, it's probably better for it, and the decision let me avoid both stressing myself into an early grave and keeping you all waiting another month.
Anyways, enjoy! [redacted][/pre-story]

Christina’s Turn

John barely had time to yank up his dress shirt and cinch his belt tight, pinning his monstrous, throbbing member against his rugged abs, the flared crown pulsing just short of reaching his powerful pecs, then yank his shirt down again, just in time to conceal the fearsome weapon as he was half-pushed-half-dragged through the ballroom doors and into the parking lot. The night air was cool and quiet, and the ballroom was far enough away from the street to avoid wandering eyes, but still, adding another charge of indecent exposure to his record would rather effectively spoil the celebration. The ABCs whined impatiently, two tugging at his arms while the third pushed him forward from behind, the identical, incorrigible redheaded triplets eager to start a night with their favorite cousin. He probably could have planted his feet, stopped himself, and taken the time to properly conceal his monolithic cock, but three sets of big, round, emerald-green puppy-dog eyes and big, round, freckle-dusted basketball-sized tits, half-bursting out of tight, backless emerald gowns, were very persuasive. Together, the triplets guided their studly cousin across the parking lot, toward a big green SUV sitting on the asphalt. 

John heard the hurried clacking of heels on pavement behind him and twisted in the triplets’ grip, catching sight of Aunt Christina rushing to catch up. The mature, copper-haired beauty was elegant as always, somehow managing to make her rushed pace look smooth and graceful, purposeful and controlled as a queen striding through her court. That is, if you ignored the way her titanic tits shook and wobbled with each stride, her diamond-hard nipples threatening to come bouncing out of her emerald dress with every step. And the way her thighs and fingers glistened, slick with her own womanly nectar. And the way her knees trembled just the tiniest bit as nearly a half-gallon of her nephew’s thick, creamy cum sloshed in her belly. 

Next thing John knew, his cousins were throwing open the back door and practically shoving him inside, before swiftly piling in after him. The backseat was spacious, a single enormous leather-upholstered bench seat, but it simply wasn’t made to hold four ridiculously overdeveloped teenagers. Abby was first, sidling past him, only to stumble as she passed, burying his face in her pale, freckled cleavage, lingering for perhaps a moment too long for it to be entirely accidental before settling into the far seat. Betty was next, taking the seat by the door, sliding in to sit as close to him as she could, her full breasts resting against his arm while she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. Cherry moved to join them, only to find all the seats in the back taken, her sisters smirking triumphantly at her as they snuggled up to their favorite cousin. She glared at her siblings in annoyance for a moment, lingering in the doorway, until an idea occurred to her that turned her look of annoyance into a smug grin. Ignoring her siblings, she flashed John a broad grin and climbed on in, stepping over Betty to smoothly plant her perfectly round ass squarely in John’s lap She gave her hips a wiggle as she settled into place, backing the smooth globes of her ass up against the monolithic shaft pinned to John’s abs, before leaning back against his chest, offering the taller tennager a spectacular view into the valley of her pale, freckled cleavage. As the monstrous shaft pulsed against her bountiful backside, her sister’s looks turned from smugness to surprise, then resigned annoyance as they realized they got out-played.

The massive vehicle rumbled to life as Aunt Christina buckled into the driver’s seat, adjusting her mirror to glance into the backseat, her nephew almost completely hidden from her view below the neck, his powerful frame nearly buried by her daughter’s nubile young bodies. “Now, girls, don’t tease him too much before we get home…” She chided with a soft smirk.

The ABCs exchanged a glance, playful grins spreading across their full lips. “We~ won’t~!” The girls replied in a chorus of sing-song voices, before giggling in a way that made everyone else a little nervous. Christina narrowed her eyes slightly, glaring sternly into the mirror for a moment, before heaving a sigh that made her monumental melons bounce, shifting into gear, and pulling out of the parking space, rolling the enormous vehicle toward the road. The backseat was silent for a long moment, John surrounded by the redheaded troublemakers as they grinned playfully. They were planning something, that much was certain, the only question was what, and just how perverse it would be. 

A Satyr's Sacred Seed: Ch. 2 [preview]

[pre-story]Hey there, Sqish here, with the conclusion of Galbuscho's commission about satyrs, breeding, and liters of cum! I actually thought I had this one done at 3.5k words, but then I realized I'd feel guilty charging for such a short chapter, went back and added in a couple more orgasms and a bit of post-coitus cuddling and it feels WAY more complete than it did before. 
[redacted]
Enjoy![/pre-story]

Chapter 2: A Satyr’s Savage Seeding

Varossion loomed in the middle of the sacred glade, half-kneeling, his bulk supported on one knee and one cloven hoof. The massive, muscular satyr’s broad, powerful chest rose and fell rhythmically as he caught his breath, his pale green skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. His long hair, a curious, mossy shade of greenish brown, was swept back out of his face, revealing his ruggedly handsome features, pointed ears and inhuman eyes, twin featureless orbs of warm hazel. His heavy brow bore the roots of a pair of woodlike antlers that arched up above his head, branching again and again into a spectacular rack of points that hung over him like a crown, giving him a regal air. In contrast to that regal bearing, his cock thrust proudly from his hips, a fearsome pillar of granite-hard flesh longer than a forearm and wider than a handspan. It throbbed and lurched angrily, like a wild beast, its length wound over with thick, pulsing veins and crowned with a flared, helmet-shaped head, easily the size of a man’s fist and still dripping with pearly seed. Beneath the towering monolithic member swayed a pair of truly enormous balls, like a pair of ripe melons, sloshing with an ocean of thick, creamy, supernaturally-potent cum.

By The Horns: Ch. 3 [Preview]

[pre-story]Hey there, squish here, with a new chapter preview! It's finally done! You'd think a story like this would write itself, but it seems I didn't give it enough credit. I'd say the final product's worth it, though!

[redacted][/pre-story]

Chapter 3: A Duo’s Desires

Silvermoon City shone like a jewel in the light of the afternoon sun, the entire city gleaming brilliant gold, pale ivory, and vivid crimson. The Sun’s golden rays filtered down through an impossible skyline, towering ornate spires and levitating buildings casting long shadows on the immaculate streets below. It was a city of mystic marvels, from animated street-sweeping brooms, to giant floating emeralds, to the elegant yet formidable arcane guardians that patrolled alongside its guards. But even its most grandiose features paled in comparison to the glorious sight of Sunfury Spire, the immense ivory-and-gold royal palace towering over the lesser spires like a monarch in its own right. It was a thing of beauty, enormous and opulent, bearing the finest and most spectacular architectural flourishes and crowned with massive, gleaming gold wings. Among all the wondrous and beautiful sights of Azeroth, truly, Silvermoon City was the crowning jewel. An island of beauty, peace, and luxury in a raging sea of war, brutality, and chaos.

“Ugh, this city is the worst. So boring!” Elaana lamented with an exaggerated roll of her brilliantly glowing emerald-green eyes.

“Ugh, I know, right?” Zalaana agreed.

The Dawnspear twins descended the ramp from Sunfury Spire to the Court of the Sun in unison, a pair of nearly-identical young blood elves, radiantly beautiful in an effortless, almost-too-perfect way. They had the same pale, flawless skin; the same slender, graceful build; the same elegant, refined facial features; the same silky, golden-blonde hair; the same glowing, emerald-green eyes; the same long, pointed ears, decorated with the matching sets of emerald studs along their length. Their makeup matched too, their full lips painted the same shade of vivid, eye-catching crimson, their eyes expertly accented to give their gaze a sultry smolder. They even dressed identically, though that was more the school’s fault for requiring uniforms than it was theirs. They wore glossy black school shoes over white knee-high sock that left the contours of their long, shapely legs bare; red pleated skirts that wrapped tight around their tiny waists and hung off their generous hips and tight, round butts; and white button-up tops, left unbuttoned just enough to flash tantalizing glimpses of their ripe, blossoming breasts, easily the two most impressive sets in the school. The only way to tell the two apart was their hair, Elaana’s trimmed at jaw-length and neatly styled, while Zalaana’s was kept long and pulled back into a ponytail, leaving just enough free to elegantly frame her face. 

“Nothing happens here! It’s always the same, home, then school, then the bar, then home again, over and over and over…” Elaana continued to complain as her sister nodded along to the familiar rant. “The same boring classes, the same boring drinks, the same boring boys, the same boring toys…” She listed, letting the words trail off into a heavy sigh as she shook her head and looked to her sister. “I need something new, Z, tonight, or I’m gonna go out of my mind. And then you’re gonna have to take care of your poor insane sister until I die of the crazies.” She lamented, putting her the back of her hand to her forehead in a melodramatic ‘woe-is-me’ gesture. 

Zalaana smirked for a moment. “I love you, sis, but I’d have a pillow on your face within a week.” She replied, chuckling softly and shaking her head for a moment. She put on a thoughtful expression. “Hmmm… How about Professor Firehawk?” She suggested.

Elaana shook her head. “He’s boring too. He was fun at first, but now it just doesn’t have the same thrill…” She sighed.

Zalaana frowned. “Yeah, the divorce kinda ruined it…” She muttered, looking thoughtful again for a moment before her face brightened suddenly. “Oh, that shipment from pandaria should be here! We could head home and try some of them out while Mom and Dad are away…”  She offered, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Elaana sighed again, looking into space for a moment before answering. “...I dunno. Fingers, tongues, and toys are nice, but I’m in the mood for something more...male, you know?” She asked, looking back at her sister.

Zalaana nodded, frowning a little. “Yeah, I get it… Well, we could always go to The Sanctum. I bet a Felguard would scratch that itch nicely…” She suggested, grinning.

Elaana smirked slightly, but didn’t look hopeful. “Tempting… but I’d bet they’re booked solid by now.” She digressed, tone sinking with disappointment.

Zalaana narrowed her eyes at her moping sibling. “Well, we’re not gonna find out standing here! Come on!” She chided, grabbing Elaana by the dainty, manicured hand and pulling her along toward the shadowy archway on the far side of the Court of the Sun.

The arched entrance to the covered street loomed like the mouth of a great beast, fittingly, as it led to the city’s shadowy underbelly. Maps and officials still called it Augur’s Row, but the residents knew the dimly-lit and poorly-maintained street by a much more fitting name; Murder Row. Faint blue streetlights lit a boulevard where the city’s fel addicts, drunkards, criminals, and whores all gathered together where they could be conveniently ignored by those in charge. Brooms rarely came through, leaving shards of glass to pile up in the gutters, and guards pretended it didn’t exist. Children were warned to avoid it, but it was rarely spoken of. Ultimately, nearly everyone found themselves walking Murder Row at some point, looking for something unsavory. And if you saw a familiar face while you were there, you just looked the other way, because admitting the meeting meant admitting you were there, too.

The Sanctum was right near the entrance to the row, easily recognizable by the tall, narrow archways shrouded in billowing, transparent midnight blue curtains. An imperious-looking warlock in crimson robes stood by the entrance, his stoic demeanor a sharp contrast to the violet-skinned succubus prancing around in front of him, striking provocative poses for passing men. As the twins approached, the warlock caught sight of them, a look of recognition crossing his face, and grinned. “Welcome back, ladies…” He greeted, sweeping the sheer curtain aside with one arm and gesturing them inside with a small flourish.

Suddenly, the streetlight beside the building was suddenly eclipsed by a looming silhouette. “A-hem.” The figure cleared its throat in a deep, baritone voice, and all three elves looked in its direction at once. Their eyes fell upon an eight-foot square-shouldered wall of gleaming silver and gold armor, crowned with a pair of long, wickedly pointed horns. The figure stepped closer, away from the streetlight, massive, iron-shod hooves clopping on the pavement as the shadows faded away to reveal the tauren’s features in more detail, from his long, braided beard to his scars. His dark-furred brow furrowed as his icy blue eyes regarded the warlock with a look of suspicion. A gauntleted hand rose, coming to rest on the pommel of the mace hanging off his belt, its spherical golden head as large as any one of the elf’s heads. 

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Operation K-9: Ch. 2 [Comm][Preview]

[pre-story]Hey there, Squish here, rising from the grave with a new chapter in the unfolding saga of Emily "Deedee" D'Dvesti'Dvadtsat'Dva, as commissioned by Kaz! A lot of stuff happened, I been silent for a while, but I'm gettin' right back on the horse! Anyways, not too much to say about this particular chapter, I just hope you enjoy it! [redacted][/pre-story]

Chapter 2: Things Change

Emily squirmed, uncomfortable in her metal chair, her eyes downcast. She tried to keep her focus on the tray of food in front of her, and ignore the rest of the mess hall. She was dressed normally, a white tank top over a gray sports bra, with clinging camo running shorts that hugged her generous hips. And yet, somehow, she felt ...exposed. Naked. She could feel the eyes of the other soldiers on her. The looks of disgust, the furtive glances, the shameless stares, the hungry leers. She felt them all roaming her body as she squirmed in her seat, from her plump backside, squished against the steel seat, to her peach-sized breasts, firm and perky within her bra. Her cheeks burned as she tried to ignore it and focus on her food once more.

By The Horns: Ch. 2 [Preview]

[pre-story] Hey there, squish here, with the continuation of Rhuno's adventures across Azeroth! [redacted] This installment takes our hero to a remote corner of The Blasted Lands. [redacted][/pre-story]

Chapter 2: A Hero's Reward

Tonight, like every night in recent memory, a tense quiet hung over the Howling Drunk Inn. The few patrons, a selection of the town’s old, infirm, and cowardly, sat in humbled silence, nursing mugs of porter as the night dragged on interminably. Donna Berrymore, the innkeeper, stood behind the bar, mechanically re-washing the unused mugs. She was a mature woman, with warm tan skin, raven-black hair, and a glare that could send even the most ornery drunk cringing out the door. The young barmaid, Becca, was the only one moving, pacing around the room, clearing away empty mugs, impatiently seeking something, anything to do to keep herself busy.

Becca was a petite, slender thing, just barely more than five feet tall. She had a cute, mousy sort of look to her, with soft features dotted with a handful of freckles, a cute little button nose, and large, chestnut-brown eyes. Jaw-length brown hair was tucked hurriedly out of the way behind her ears, a few stray locks curling forward to brush against her cheeks. Her uniform was typical of her job, an ankle-length brown dress that hung loosely off her admittedly average hips, a laced leather bodice that cinched her already slim waist even tighter, and a frilly top with a neckline that bared her shoulders and the modest cleavage of her firm, orange-sized breasts. She was practically the ideal barmaid, attractive in that girl-next-door way, but not distractingly eye-catching. She almost seemed to blend into the background when you weren’t looking.

Happy Birthday: Ch. 2 [Comm][Preview]

[pre-story]Hey there, squish here, with the much-anticipated continuation of the Happy Birthday story! Between writer's block, negotiations for a book deal, my computer's self-destruct and subsequent replacement, unavoidable family obligations, and my toe's attempt at rebellion, this one's seen a lot of delays. I'm laughably far behind schedule for the month. But worry not, I'm back in the saddle, writin' up a storm! I'm already a thousand words into the new chapter of By The Horns! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy your preview! [redacted][/pre-story]

Chapter 2: The Main Event

John couldn’t help but watch as his mother climbed the stairs to the stage ahead of him, entranced by the almost hypnotic sway of her wide hips. With each step, her red stilettos tapped sharply on the stairs, and her mature, child-bearing hips swayed, sending her mouth-watering ass jiggling, tantalizingly close.The temptation to reach out, sink his fingers into that perfect ass and give it a greedy squeeze was almost overwhelming. He might have done it, were his hands not occupied holding on to a sister apiece. As his mother climbed, his eyes followed her, taking in the sight with blatant hunger.

Daddy's Home: Ch. 10 [preview]

[Pre-Story]Hey there, Squish here, with the preview for the FINAL chapter of Daddy's Home! It's taken quite a while, but I wanted to make sure I ended this one with a bang, get all the details PERFECT before I put it out there. The preview's a bit short, but don't you worry, that's only because the entire thing is PACKED with sexiness from start to finish, and I don't want to give away too much right away. [redacted][/Pre-Story]

A New Day

Samantha moaned softly, her voice hot and breathy as she let her tongue roll from her mouth, her lips painted with smeared, smudged black lipstick. She flattened the wet, pink muscle against the base of the iron-hard pillar of thick, vein-marbled cock before her. The rich, musky flavor of the cock that made her tongue tingle, and she could still taste the lingering hints of her friend’s juices on the beastly shaft. She crawled forward, her tongue tracing a lazy zigzag as she dragged it slowly, sensually, up the bulging foot-and-a-half cum-tube that ran along the underside of that intimidating, intoxicating cock. As she neared the tip, the sheer length of the monstrous member allowed her pillowy volleyball-sized breasts to encircle the base of the shaft, even her impossible 32H chest struggling to fully wrap around its thickness. It was as big around as a two-liter bottle, and it throbbed with lust under her skillful touch.

As Sam’s tongue finally arrived at that bulging, apple-sized crown, she let out a soft moan, her tongue swirling over the smooth, pulsing tip. Her hands came up to cup her mountainous melons and give them a squeeze, wrapping them tighter around the cock. It was so hot, so hard, and so strong, with every powerful pulse she thought it might pull itself free from her lusty embrace. She couldn’t resist a momentary indulgence of her own pleasure, her black-painted fingernails roaming across the smooth, pale flesh of her breasts, seeking out the pink peaks. Her thumb and forefingers found her peachy pleasure buds and pinches sharply, making her moan into his cockhead. She gave the mighty shaft a lewd kiss as she toyed with her nipples, tweaking them and tugging at the silver barbells piercing through them.

Richard let loose a deep, rumbling groan as his beloved daughter serviced his titanic cock, pleasuring a case of morning wood so spectacular as to inspire analogies to mighty redwoods. He lay back, still rising from the depths of slumber as Sam’s full, jiggling breasts squeezed around the root of his mammoth, ivory cock. Every soft moan of lust and pleasure that she murmured around his spit-polished crown as she teased her tender nipples resonated in his ears, a sweeter symphony than the birds could ever sing. Her sapphire eyes opened once more, staring directly into his as her lips popped off the fat crown of his cock and curled into a bright, cheerful smile. The expression almost seemed ill-fitting, framed by her dark, silky hair, and buried beneath the smudged, streaked, and splattered dark makeup still on her face after last night’s messy entertainment. And yet it beamed up at him like the rising sun. “Good morning, baby.” he finally greeted, his voice still deep with sleep. [/preview]

Operation K-9: Ch. 01 [Preview]

[pre-story bit]
Hey guys!
New commission! This one’s brought to you by Kaz! Not much to comment on with this one, though I have no idea how I’ll categorize this. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

[redacted]
Content warnings: Large penis, dog-girl
[/pre-story]

Chapter 1: Visiting Hours

The desert sun beat down on Emily’s skin as she jogged, panting heavily. The heat was uncompromising. The packed, dry earth underfoot had been baking in the sun all day, and it radiated heat, hot enough that she almost thought her running shoes would melt mid-strike, like some sort of cruel, cartoonish prank by an angry artist. She had to squint her hazel eyes constantly beneath the bill of her baseball cap, trying to filter out the glaring brightness of the sands that surrounded the compound in all directions, just beyond the chain link and barbed wire fence. Every breeze that came across the sands felt like the blast of heat from an open oven, and carried with it stinging, gritty sand that stuck to her sweaty, bronze-tanned skin, joining the sand that she could never quite completely rid herself of. And yet, she was smiling.

Daddy's Home: Ch. 9 [Preview]

[pre-story]
Hello, my faithful readers!
It’s been much, much too long since the last time I posted a new chapter of my most popular story. But I hope you’ll agree it was worth the wait! [redacted]
In the meantime, I’ve been rather busy. There are a lot of new commissions going now, and the first chapters of the three stories in the running to replace this one as my main project. [redacted]
Anyways, I hope you enjoy the new chapter! One more to go and the main storyline is officially wrapped up.
[/pre-story]

Chapter 9: Daddy’s Favorite

The black velvet veil of sleep slowly lifted from his mind as he was gently pulled back to wakefulness by a familiar sensation, a warm, wet suction, engulfing his groin. He groaned with pleasure, his voice deep with sleep as he stirred, blinking bleary eyes as he looked down to see a head-sized bulge bobbing under the sheets between his legs. He let his head fall back, groaning again, as his mind sputtered to life like an old engine trying to find its timing. As he lay there, savoring the sensation of a particularly talented pair of lips and a teasing tongue, his thoughts turned to the night before.

It was… hazy. He remembered dinner pretty clearly, but after that, his memories were scattered, fragments of images and sensations. The soft warmth of skin pressed against his. The mingled scents of sweat, womanly nectar, and cum. The taste of cherry lip gloss. The sound of a girl moaning and begging for more. A flash of a luscious female form, writhing beneath him. He let out another deep groan under the talented tongue flicking over his shaft as the memories crystallized, his mind fitting the chaotic jumble of pieces together into something that made sense.

-----

Rich’s baritone voice called out, deep and loud, the call resonating through the house to fill every room and grab the attention of everyone who heard it.

“Dinner~!”

He grinned, pulling on his oven mitts and turning to the stove. A wall of intense heat washed over his face as the oven door opened, making his squint as he reached into it. His hands found his prize, swiftly pulling a casserole dish out of the heat and kicking the door shut, spinning on his heel to carry the bubbling baking dish to the table. He had to admit, it was much more fun to cook for the whole gang like he used to, rather than just for himself and Sam. The day had been unusual from the very start, to say the least, but it seemed like the simple act of cooking everyone dinner seemed to give a sense of normalcy back to the day. He set the dish down carefully on a hot pad, and pulled the tinfoil covers off the other serving dishes, letting the scent of food flood the room just as the girls began to arrive.

Sam rounded the corner, wearing nothing but black-and-purple striped stockings and an oversized black band t-shirt that came down low enough to just barely hide her ass. She had a whole drawer full of them, and often wore them as pajamas, a habit that had been rather troublesome until very, very recently. Her eyes widened at the spread laid out on the table. “Wow! You really went all-out, huh?” She exclaimed, looking over the buffet before her with a hungry look. The casserole dish still bubbled slowly, filled to almost overflowing with Rich’s fancy four-cheese macaroni, the thick, creamy sauce baked to a delicious golden brown on the surface, finely-chopped bacon bits sprinkled over the top and stirred into the sauce. On the serving platter lay a half-dozen steaks, dark grill lines criss-crossing the thick, meaty slabs, liberally dusted with pepper and spices before being seared to a perfect medium rare. The serving bowl beside it overflowed with rich emerald green broccoli crowns, stir-fried with plentiful butter and garlic until they were just tender.

Anna followed swiftly on Sam’s heels, still wearing her impossibly overfilled parody of a schoolgirl uniform, her epic, heaving, basketball-sized freckled tits straining against the top as she drew in a deep breath. “Damn, that smells fantastic!” She commented as she let the breath out in a sigh, breasts wobbling with momentum as she opened her eyes.

The two girls quickly found themselves a pair of seats, Sam settling in next to her father’s seat at the head of the table, grinning broadly. “I know, right?” She agreed, licking her black-painted lips. “It feels like it’s been a year since breakfast!” She added, eyes flicking from dish to dish like she wasn’t sure where to start.
[/preview]

The Gladiators: Ch. 1 [Preview]

[Pre-story bit]
Greetings, my faithful readers!
This is the preview of the first chapter of my third commission, courtesy of another commissioner who prefers to remain anonymous. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! This is the very tip of a very large, very impressive iceberg, and hopefully you’ll enjoy building up to the spectacular climax of this tale as it continues.
[redacted]
Content Warnings: Unrealistic anatomy, Muscle, Incest
[/pre-story bit]

The Beginning

[preview]
The Fates’ designs are never clear to those woven into their tapestry. With each mortal and immortal birth, Nona spins the thread of fate, Decima measures it carefully, and Morta cuts it’s end. Together, the fates weave each thread into their loom, crossing and twisting and interweaving each strand with countless others, forming the great and glorious tapestry of destiny.  But just as one cannot see the full glory of Roma while standing in the Flavium, no single thread can see the course their thread weaves through destiny. But, seen or unseen, the course of one’s fate is undeniable. See two threads, bound tight together since first they were spun, unable to know nor deny the fates’ designs, as they continue blindly towards a fateful crossing of strands.

Happy Birthday: Ch. 1 [Preview]

[Pre-Story Bit]
Hello, my faithful readers! Today, I bring you the preview of my second commission, Happy Birthday! I think fans of Daddy’s Home are really gonna like this one. There’s no actual sex in this one, I’m sorry to report, but plenty of sexiness and lots more to come!
[redacted]
Content Warnings: Incest, Unrealistic anatomy, Huge cock
[/pre-story bit]

The Guest of Honor

[preview]
The evening air was still warm with the lingering heat of the summer sun when a sleek black limousine pulled up to the curb outside the ballroom.  The engine’s rumble quieted to a soft purr as it came to a stop, the chirping song of crickets in the grass reasserting itself as the loudest sound, only interrupted by the muffled beat of the music pounding through the doors of the ballroom. There was a soft click as the door latch opened, the sleek black door swinging wide to make room for the guest of honor as he emerged from the posh interior.

What's Next Previews!

Hello, my faithful readers! Your endless patience shall soon be rewarded! The three 'what's next' chapters are finally complete! Which means you, my faithful readers, are soon to be flooded with three great big stories, each awaiting continuation, and each vying for your vote! That's right, I'm letting my fans decide the order in which these three stories see the light of day. [redacted]

The three stories on the line are as follows:
By The Horns: The epic saga of a Tauren Paladin by the name of Rhuno Sunheart. The tale begins in Northrend, where the mighty bull has been summoned before Alexstrasza, the life-binder, to answer a most dire quest. From there, it follows his meandering journey across all of Azeroth and beyond as he performs good deeds, battles evil, and, of course, has tons and tons of sex. Each chapter tells of his encounters with new partners and the growth of his massive harem.

The Thousand Titles of Angra Ba'ahram: A new sci-fantasy epic detailing the saga of the demon Angra Ba’ahram, Conqueror of Women, The Last Incubus, Sovereign of the Crimson Isles, Lord of Lust, Savior of the Reluctant Bride, The Insatiable One, Goddess-Breaker, Purity’s Bane, The Banished Lord, He Who Has Returned, Sire of Armies, Slayer of Angra Ba’ator. In his prime, Angra Ba'ahram rules the 666 worlds of The Abyss from the Darksteel Citadel upon the world of Throne, surrounded by hordes of warrior spawn, thousands of succubi servants, hundreds of slaves broken to serve his lusts, and a trio of angelic pets. Each chapter reveals the sordid tale behind one of his many, many titles, and tells the long and winding journey of an eternity of debauchery and brutality that eventually led a demon of lust to sit upon this seat of power.

The Irresistible Goldenboy: The thrilling adventures of Goldenboy, the ego-powered superhero. Harnessing the potentially limitless power of his own self-confidence, Goldenboy fights crime with super-strength, invulnerability, and flight. And what does an ego-powered superhero do to keep his powers in tip-top shape? Why, have sex with every eligible superheroine he can, and some who aren't exactly eligible, too. Some come to him, unsatisfied by normal men or drawn in by his reputation. Others, he pursues, charming and seducing until they fall to his charms. Even the women of alternate universes and other planets aren't safe from the endless womanizing of Goldenboy. In the end, no woman can resist... The Irresistible Goldenboy!

The Irresistible Goldenboy: Ch. 1 [Preview]

Chapter 1: Curiosity

[Pre-Story Bit]
I’m gonna keep this bit short and sweet this time. This story is one of three possible big, multi-chapter stories that are in the running to become my main project after I finish Daddy’s Home, and in gratitude to my faithful readers, I’m giving my fans control over its course! [redacted]
Content warnings: Huge cock, adultery, cock-worship, rough sex, voyeurism (kinda), female masturbation, and possibly excessive exposition.
[/Pre-Story Bit]

[Preview]The Hub. Where everything comes together. If secretive extra-dimensional transit networks had slogans, or needed them, that would be the Hub’s. Looking at the Hub terminal from the outside would be technically impossible, since the outer walls of the structure are co-existent with the absolute boundaries of the stabilized extradimensional pocket in which the Hub existed, not to mention the absolute lack of light sources. But if such a thing were possible, one might see a structure shaped like a short, fat cylinder, nearly half a mile across but only two hundred feet tall. Along the narrow edge of the shape bristles a belt of hundreds of rectangular projections.

The Thousand Titles of Angra Ba'ahram: Ch. 1 [Preview]

Chapter 1: Angra Ba'ahram [Preview]

[Pre-Story Bit]
I’m gonna keep this bit short and sweet this time. This story is one of three possible big, multi-chapter stories that are in the running to become my main project after I finish Daddy’s Home, and in gratitude to my faithful readers, I’m giving my fans control over its course! [redacted]
Content warnings: Hyper-scale cocks, size difference, cumflation, magic, rough sex, mind reading, girl-on-girl, Incest (kinda?), and possibly excessive exposition.
[/Pre-Story Bit]

[preview]For a human to truly understand the true nature of the multiverse, they must set aside their ignorant self-importance and open their minds to possibilities beyond the scope of their understanding. They must perceive the three dimensions that mortal minds can, and accept the existence of a fourth they cannot. They must open themselves to the aether, the raw magic flowing along the fourth dimension, for once a mind tastes the aether, it can perceive the magic all around them. They must look upon the ever-expanding infinite vastness of their own universe, and humble themselves with the truth that their realm is but a single plane amid infinite others. They must accept that even as their world is but a single grain of sand in the vast desert of their universe, that universe is, itself, but a single pages in a vast tome of realities, a single facet upon a shape beyond mortal comprehension.

Arabian Days [Preview]

Arabian Days [Preview]

"Arabian nights~ / Like Arabian days~ / More often than not / Are hotter than hot / In a lot of good ways~!"

[Pre-Story Bit]
Hey readers, this here's a preview of a request by good buddy o' mine Ryu112, featuring his OC Tatsu! The full version's gonna go up in a week. [redacted]
This one's a little more extreme than most of my stuff, so I'll just throw a little warning out there: Contains yard-long cocks, extreme stomach bulge, cumflation, a bit of gape, rough sex, dirty talk, and magical impregnation.
[/Pre-Story Bit]

[preview]
“Pretty lady, buy a pot! No finer pots in brass or silver!”
“Sugar dates! Sugar dates and fiiigs~! Sugar dates and pistachioooos~!”
“Would the lady like a necklace? A pretty necklace, for a pretty lady…”
“FRESH FISH! WE CATCH ‘EM, YOU BUY ‘EM!”
Voices washed over one another like the pounding surf, a new voice rising to crash over the listener just as the previous voice faded. Some pleaded and promised, some sang sweetly, some were soft and smooth, others booming and proud. A hot wind carried the voices together, gathering them together into a wordless murmur pierced by the occasional sharp call. A dozen figures roamed lazily through the sun-baked street, male and female alike draped in flowing cloth to keep the worst of the baking sun off them as they go about their business. Colorful canopies of cloth on each of the dozens of stalls offered alluring pools of shadow that promised respite from the afternoon heat, but made one a target of the merchant’s more aggressive sales pitches. Some figures strode calm and unflinching through the bazaar, others darted this way and that with childish wonder, some bore baskets heavy with freshly bought goods, and others haggled passionately over each and every coin.