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Author: indieerotica

Forced By My Coach

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Coach Brown has had enough of Kevin, the disrespectful and undisciplined hockey player who’s also the son of a major donor to the university. As much as he wants to get rid of Kevin, he can’t. After a night of running Kevin through a series of punishing drills, he overhears the younger man trash-talking him in the showers. All of Coach Brown’s self-control vanishes as he storms into the shower and confronts Kevin — he’s off the team unless he gives Coach Brown a real good reason not to.

WARNING: This 4,400-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a dominating older coach and his younger athlete that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

Coach narrowed his eyes and let his dominating side take over. Even though his heart was pounding against his ribs, Coach stood his ground and showed Kevin he meant business. Coach grabbed his cock and shook it, the head of it rubbing against Kevin’s hip.

“I’m deadly serious, punk. Suck my cock or you’re off my team.” He considered pushing Kevin to his knees and forcing his cock in the jock’s mouth, but this domination would be all the more sweeter if Kevin would willingly submit.

But Kevin’s cheeks blazed red with anger and his eyes continued to glare threateningly. His lips, though, trembled. And Coach felt something brush against his thigh — he looked down and saw Kevin’s cock swell and rise and grow thick and hard. This turns him on, Coach realized.

Coach held his ground and crossed his arms over his thick chest. He clenched his jaw, growing angry at this reluctant submissive’s disobedience. “I said,” Coach repeated, “suck my cock.”

Then Kevin fell to his knees. Coach watched him, stunned, even though he somehow knew Kevin would comply. I won... Coach realized, but then all thoughts fled from his mind as soon as the jock’s hot, wet, tight mouth closed down over Coach’s cock.

The punk’s lips slid up and down his shaft, not quite reaching the base, and his tongue massaged every square inch of skin. Kevin grabbed the base of Coach’s shaft to stroke the parts he couldn’t fit in his mouth. He bobbed his head back and forth with exuberance — with far more enthusiasm than someone who didn’t want this.

He’s a fag, Coach realized. He’s gay like me and he’s enjoying this. And suddenly everything fell into place — the antagonism from Kevin, the infuriating confrontations, it now had a recognizable pattern. Kevin was horny for Coach — had been right from the start — and the disobedience was his way of dealing with it. More to the point — it wasn’t me that forced him to suck me off — he forced me into this confrontation. Not only was his career safe, but his conscience was also clear.

Kevin moaned as he sucked, the vibrations thrumming through Coach’s cock and up into his pelvis. Coach shuddered and his knees buckled, but he put his hand against the wall and stopped himself from falling on top of Kevin. He was now fully under the spray of the showerhead. The hot, steamy water massaged his skin and cascaded down him, sending pleasure through all his nerve endings, only adding to the eroticism that consumed his body.

Frat House Piss Party (Piss-Loving Boys #4)

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

“When we were smoking up last night, Ian said some interesting things,” Lance said.

I instantly went cold and struggled to bring up coherent memories of last night, of what I could’ve possibly told him. Nothing was coming back to me. Lance’s arm around my shoulders now felt heavy and oppressive, like a yoke on cattle.

“Oh?” Ryan asked. It was even clearer now that this was a set-up, that they knew exactly what they were going to say and when.

What the fuck did I tell Lance last night? I knew I usually talk about sex when I’m high, but, surely, that’s not what was going to happen here and now.

“It seems,” Lance said, emphasizing his Southern drawl to draw out the moment, to keep me sweating in nervous agony, “that our boy here is a piss-drinker.”

I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the tears. A hot blush flared on my cheeks. That was my deepest, darkest secret, and I’d gone and told it to someone who was going to use it against me. I was surprised I hadn’t already been kicked out of the house — there was no way they’d let a piss-drinker live with them.

“Well, now that’s interesting,” Ryan said, with a little bit of a Southern drawl of his own. I heard a bit of teasing in his tone, but not disgust. I opened my eyes, terrified to face any of my brothers again, but forcing myself to do just that. “Tell us about it, Ian.”

I looked from brother to brother, trying to figure out where this was going. Then it hit me. They were going to make me piss all over myself. And knowing the humiliation that usually accompanies hazing, they were probably going to film it and show it to everyone. I’d have to not only leave the house, but probably also leave campus. I’d have to figure out how to explain to my parents why I’d wasted all their money and didn’t even stay a term.

“I’m waiting,” Ryan said, his voice suddenly full of authority, something I’d not heard from him before.

“I…” My sentence trailed off as I struggled to figure out what to tell and what to keep secret.

“It’s okay, brother,” Lance said with an oppressive squeeze of my shoulders. “You can trust us.”

I sighed and closed my eyes — I couldn’t look at them as I spilled the beans. I’d decided to just tell them the whole thing. “Piss really turns me on — the smell, the feel, the taste. I usually piss all over myself every morning before I shower and then jack off.”

Even though my eyes were closed, I knew they were judging me. I could feel it in the oppressive silence that had suddenly filled the room. When the silence continued, I opened my eyes and looked at everyone as they stared at me. Their expressions were unreadable, but I knew the night was going downhill from here.

Suddenly, Ryan chugged back the last of his beer and stood up. “You need another drink,” he said, his eyes boring into me.

I glanced at my cup. “I’ve still got some.”

“I wasn’t talking about beer,” he said. He grabbed his fly and drew the zipper down. Reaching inside, he wrenched out his thick, heavy cock, and dangled it into his cup. A second later, the heavy sound of piss striking plastic filled the room.

Taken By Force

Posted on May 21, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Craig is a law student at a Christian university and a steady, long-term girlfriend. He also has a secret drug addiction, and when he gets caught buying weed, he can see his life crashing down around him. The cop that catches him is hard, cruel, and unyielding, and won’t let Craig off with a simple warning. Desperate, Craig makes one final plea, falling to his knees.

WARNING: This 4,600-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a dominating older cop and a submissive younger man that will leave you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

“ID,” the cop said, his low voice rumbling through me again.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet, then slipped my drivers license out of its holder. I passed it to him and his fingers brushed against mine — was that intentional? It felt intentional.

Calm down! I’m not gay, I told myself again. What the fuck was going on in my head and in my pants?

“Craig James,” he said, reading my name aloud. Hearing him say my name like that sent a new shiver through me. He looked at me, as if comparing my ID photo to the real deal, then he put my ID in his pocket and opened the flap of a leather holder on his belt. The gleam of the streetlight glancing off metal handcuffs shone brightly.

Fuck, fuck, fuck — this wasn’t happening! I couldn’t get arrested!

“Please, sir, please, can I explain?” I begged.

“Hands against the wall,” he said. He was no-nonsense, all business.

“Sir, please, let me just explain. I wasn’t—”

“Hands against the fucking wall, kid!” A vein stood out on his forehead and his face immediately got red.

Chastised, I put my hands against the wall and prayed to God that I would get out of this. I couldn’t call my parents to get me out of jail — they’d freak. And I certainly couldn’t call my girlfriend — she was so uptight that she’d dump me over the phone for getting arrested and then probably inform the college about it and the reason why. That left maybe my roommate. But he couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and this would spread like wildfire through campus, eventually reaching my girlfriend and the dean.

The cop came up behind me and kicked my feet so that I spread my legs. He put his strong, broad hands on me, patting me down from head to toe along the outside of my body. When he reached my feet, he stood up again and patted my back and ass; I flinched from his hands on my ass, for some reason reacting to him touching there. Then he reached around me and — oh, fuck — I felt his hard cock press against my ass as he patted my chest, and I was nowhere near as disgusted as I should have been with his dick on my butt. I forced that thought out of my mind, choosing not to think on it. His hands continued roaming down, searching for weapons or drugs. Eventually, his hands landed on my hard cock, sending a weird jolt of pleasure through me. He seemed to grope me a bit, feeling around and making sure it was all me and not a gun or something, then he moved down, patting the front of my legs and between them, coming back up to my crotch and feeling my sack.

Fuck, why did this feel so good?

Cougar Encounters

Posted on May 9, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

This hot and seductive bundle collects all five of Sandra Claire’s cougar stories. Each raunchy story follows the sexy romps of older women on the prowl for masculine and muscular younger men and shows that mature women are really what those young jocks crave.

Included in this volume are:
COUGAR ON THE PROWL: Single mom Susan is lusting after her son’s best friend and decides to embark on a risky plan to seduce the younger man.
COUGAR IN HEAT: Jesse expects his friend’s mom, Melissa, to be a buzzkill when she joins him and the guys on a ski trip, acting as a chaperone. But then she shows up naked in the sauna.
COUGAR ON PATROL: Stuck in a dead-end job and eternally single, Rachel risks it all in pursuit of the young man who’s working late in the office.
COUGAR’S CATCH: Nancy’s car breaks down on a lonely highway. When the hot young tow truck driver shows up to the rescue, her already-high libido kicks into overdrive.
COUGAR ON THE HUNT: Julian’s heard all the rumors about naughty Samantha, the cougar who works out at the college gym. Tonight, he discovers the rumors are true.

WARNING: This 21,000-word short story collection contains multiple explicit sex scenes between younger men and the mature women who crave them and will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

He started up the truck and we put on our seatbelts. The radio came on and quietly played a country song. He put his left hand on the steering wheel, shifted into drive, and then put his right arm over the top of the seats, casually turning toward me as he drove. I could see his armpit hair through the sleeve of his shirt—there was nothing hotter than a hairy man.

“I’m Bobby,” he said, “I should’ve introduced myself earlier.”

“I’m Nancy. Thanks again for coming to my rescue.” I tried to force my gaze onto the road as we drove, but instead I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, off his strong neck and shoulders, the compact muscle beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and, if I wasn’t imagining things, the bulge at the fly of his jeans.

“Ain’t no trouble. Especially for a pretty woman like you,” he said.

I felt my cheeks grow hot with a blush. I tried to hide it by giggling and holding a hand in front of my face, but I think he knew exactly what was going on. He smiled at me and looked at the road. I let my hands fall in my lap and my damn horniness took hold—I started pressing the heel of my palm against my crotch, pushing against my pussy through my skirt, hoping to give myself just enough satisfaction until I was home and could break out the vibrator.

Bobby took his arm off the top of the seats and let his hand fall in his lap, pressing his hand against his bulge. It felt like the world slowed down as I watched him, almost in utter disbelief that this was happening. Me, a mature woman, masturbating in the car with some young hunk I didn’t even know.

But Bobby reminded me so much of Todd that my mind just wasn’t working properly. I watched Bobby and decided that he was at least ten times hotter than Todd. But I knew I was just so horny that even if there wasn’t that resemblance to Todd, I’d still be careening down this path.

I looked down at his bulge—which he was still massaging—and found it had grown considerably. Bobby had to be huge down there.

I knew I shouldn’t go forward with this, but I just needed sex so badly and Bobby seemed to want it, too. Even if this just ended in me giving him a little road head, it might be enough to sate my desires until I could properly take care of myself.

He slipped his hand under the waist of his jeans and groped himself. I lifted my skirt up to my hips, exposing my black lace panties to him, and slipped my fingers under my underwear. I ran my fingers along the length of my folds, my fingers already wet from my moist pussy.

The truck jerked a bit as he tried to straighten his driving, but his eyes were almost entirely on me. I’ve never felt so emboldened, so brazen. I grabbed my skirt and panties and pulled them down to my ankles, and then kicked them off. I bit my lip nervously and sat back in the seat, waiting to see what Bobby would say or do.

Cougar’s Catch

Posted on May 9, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

After a disastrous first date, Nancy can’t wait to get home and release the tension that’s built up all day, but when she takes a lonely, quiet road back to Denver, her car breaks down. Cursing herself for her rotten luck, she calls a tow truck and is more than a little surprised when the truck driver, Bobby, is a handsome young man that reminds Nancy of her first husband. With her libido charged from a date that went nowhere, Nancy can’t help but flirt with Bobby a little, to ease some of the lust building in her. Bobby, though, flirts back and things soon heat up in the cab of the tow truck, turning this rotten day into one Nancy will never forget.

WARNING: This 4,100-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a young man and a MILF that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

He started up the truck and we put on our seatbelts. The radio came on and quietly played a country song. He put his left hand on the steering wheel, shifted into drive, and then put his right arm over the top of the seats, casually turning toward me as he drove. I could see his armpit hair through the sleeve of his shirt—there was nothing hotter than a hairy man.

“I’m Bobby,” he said, “I should’ve introduced myself earlier.”

“I’m Nancy. Thanks again for coming to my rescue.” I tried to force my gaze onto the road as we drove, but instead I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, off his strong neck and shoulders, the compact muscle beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and, if I wasn’t imagining things, the bulge at the fly of his jeans.

“Ain’t no trouble. Especially for a pretty woman like you,” he said.

I felt my cheeks grow hot with a blush. I tried to hide it by giggling and holding a hand in front of my face, but I think he knew exactly what was going on. He smiled at me and looked at the road. I let my hands fall in my lap and my damn horniness took hold—I started pressing the heel of my palm against my crotch, pushing against my pussy through my skirt, hoping to give myself just enough satisfaction until I was home and could break out the vibrator.

Bobby took his arm off the top of the seats and let his hand fall in his lap, pressing his hand against his bulge. It felt like the world slowed down as I watched him, almost in utter disbelief that this was happening. Me, a mature woman, masturbating in the car with some young hunk I didn’t even know.

But Bobby reminded me so much of Todd that my mind just wasn’t working properly. I watched Bobby and decided that he was at least ten times hotter than Todd. But I knew I was just so horny that even if there wasn’t that resemblance to Todd, I’d still be careening down this path.

I looked down at his bulge—which he was still massaging—and found it had grown considerably. Bobby had to be huge down there.

I knew I shouldn’t go forward with this, but I just needed sex so badly and Bobby seemed to want it, too. Even if this just ended in me giving him a little road head, it might be enough to sate my desires until I could properly take care of myself.

He slipped his hand under the waist of his jeans and groped himself. I lifted my skirt up to my hips, exposing my black lace panties to him, and slipped my fingers under my underwear. I ran my fingers along the length of my folds, my fingers already wet from my moist pussy.

The truck jerked a bit as he tried to straighten his driving, but his eyes were almost entirely on me. I’ve never felt so emboldened, so brazen. I grabbed my skirt and panties and pulled them down to my ankles, and then kicked them off. I bit my lip nervously and sat back in the seat, waiting to see what Bobby would say or do.

Forced Submission

Posted on May 9, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Matty would never have expected Scott, the university jock and his lifelong bully, to look at him with lust. For all of high school, Scott tormented Matty mercilessly, doubling his efforts as soon as Matty came out as gay. Tonight, however, as Matty is studying alone in the quietest part of the library, he is confronted by Scott, and it’s clear the jock doesn’t have a beating in mind. As Scott issues commands which bring to life Matty’s wildest sexual fantasies, he can’t figure out if the jock is really gay, or just horny. The only think he does know is he’s eager to submit to whatever this muscular stud has in mind.

WARNING: This 4,300-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a twink and his jock bully that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

Matty grabbed his backpack and shoved his papers into it, then stacked up the books he still needed to go through. He looked up at the other table again and found it empty. Scott’s stuff was still there, but the man was not. Matty gasped and frantically looked around—was the beat-down coming?

“Dude,” Scott said from behind him.

Matty whipped around, the table and chair clattering loudly in the funereal library. He glanced around, hoping the sudden noise had caught the attention of another student, or maybe Jennifer, but no one was there. It was just Matty and Scott, surrounded by books, on the attic-like third floor of the library.

Matty looked up at Scott, taking in his incredible body, framed by slim jeans and a tight shirt, until he finally met the man’s eyes.

“Yeah?” Matty said, voice quivering.

Scott still had an intense look on his face, but it didn’t seem to be all rage and hatred anymore. Matty couldn’t figure it out, but it still terrified him.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, is he going to kill me?

Scott leaned forward and Matty leaned back—so far that the edge of the table jabbed into his back and he still kept folding himself back as far as he could go. Scott still moved closer. Matty could smell the man—a heady mix of his deodorant and personal musk. And a strong whiff of that made him lightheaded, but only for a moment. Finally, Matty couldn’t lean back any further, yet Scott still pressed on.

Soon, their bodies were touching, Scott’s thick chest pressed against Matty’s lean, twink body. And then Scott’s lips brushed Matty’s ear. Like a live wire, Matty felt a jolt, a shock from the touch. His body jumped, bumping harder against Scott’s solid form.

And then Scott stopped leaning forward. He whispered, “Why the fuck do you have to do this to me, you little shit?”

That felt like the precursor to a beating. Matty squirmed, trying to get away, but he was caged in by Scott’s chest and his massive arms, bracing the table on either side of Matty. He panicked, his heart racing and his mind going just as fast, but pushing through that was his erotic imagination—he was entrapped by this hunk, this bad-ass bully. What if...what if Scott were to kiss him?

Matty shook his head, trying to knock that absurd thought out. Not only did Scott hate Matty with every fibre of his being, but the man was also straight. Matty almost never saw him without a girl under his arm.

“What are you shaking your head for?” Scott said, still whispering in Matty’s ear. His breath was hot, making Matty’s ear moist. “Are you saying you don’t want this?”

“Wh—what? Want what?” Am I being asked if I want a beating?

“Don’t you fags want any cock you can get?”

Matty turned his head, almost bashing his nose against Scott’s. “What?”

Scott stared at him, his gaze travelling down Matty’s face until it rested on his lips. Now he knew what that other intense emotion was—he could see it now. Lust. Scott was fucking lusting for him.

Sorority Seduction

Posted on May 9, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

In retaliation for last weekend’s panty raid, Jessica’s sorority sisters drag her along on a jockstrap raid. Jessica wants nothing to do with that frat house or the men in it — for one of them is Josh, her cheating ex. Her sisters have other ideas; they want her to personally steal Josh’s jockstrap as a sort-of revenge for the hurt he caused her. But when she rummages around in his dresser in the dark, she discovers she’s not alone — Josh is in bed and under the covers. In a moment of weakness and lust, Jessica’s old feelings for Josh come roaring back, and no matter how hard she fights those feelings, she knows she can’t resist him much longer.

WARNING: This 4,300-word short story contains an explicit sex scene and is intended for mature adults only.

On the second floor, I made my way down the hall to the end, to where Josh’s room was. My heart pounded harder and harder as I got closer. Josh wasn’t in there, I had to keep telling myself. He was at the football game with the rest of the assholes in this house.

Maybe ... maybe stealing his jockstrap would feel slightly cathartic. Perhaps trashing his room would feel even better. My nervousness seemed to dissipate as I contemplated how furious I might make him by invading his privacy like this. I could come to enjoy this.

I flicked off my light and put my cell in my pocket — there would be enough moonlight coming in the window to see my way.

Still not knowing why I strove to be so quiet, I gently laid my hand on the doorknob and entered, closing the door behind me without even the softest click. On the left was Josh’s bed and on the right was his desk and dresser. I crossed the room to his dresser and slid open the top drawer, where I knew he stored his socks and underwear. A bit of a funk wafted up and hit my nose — not everything in here was clean.

I grimaced as I reached in, vowing to slather my hands with sanitizer as soon as I got back to the sorority house. I pulled a few things out, holding them up to the moonlight to see if it was a jockstrap. Nope — these were briefs. I rifled through the contents of the drawer, hoping he had more than one jockstrap and that this wasn’t futile effort. If he was wearing his jock at the game right now, I’d have to settle for some briefs or something.

“Jessica?” a masculine voice said. My heart stopped and it felt like my stomach fell. Josh was here?

I turned around, slowly, still holding briefs in my hand. Josh was lying in bed, shirtless and under his blanket. Somehow I’d missed him when I came in — but I hadn’t expected to find him, anyway. And, dammit, I felt a warmth growing between my thighs. Despite his whorish ways, the mere sight of him still turned me on.

“Jessica ... what are you doing?” he asked. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, like he still wasn’t sure if he was actually seeing me.

“Why aren’t you at the game?” I asked, words tumbling out in a rush. I suddenly realized I still had his briefs in my hand — I quickly put them back in the drawer and slid it closed.

“I’m on suspension from the team until my grades improve,” he said. “What are you doing here?” he asked again.

I struggled to come up with some excuse, some explanation. “I don’t know,” I finally said.

He pushed aside his blanket and stood up — oh, God, he was wearing only a tight pair of briefs. His muscles shone in the moonlight, making him seem like an Adonis, and his bulge stood out prominently. And I knew that bulge intimately — I knew that even though it was large, he was still soft. Josh had a massive dick and managed to do things to me that no other guy was even capable of.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he asked. The anger I’d expected to hear in his voice wasn’t there; he didn’t seem to mind that he’d found me in his bedroom, uninvited.

Golden Showers (Piss-Loving Boys #3)

Posted on May 9, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Slowly, I began angling my hard, stiff cock toward my face. The fountain of piss turned into an arc, making its way up my torso, making more of me wet with my hot, fetid piss. Some of it splashed on my chin — I clamped my mouth shut, but continued moving that golden arch toward my face.

My bladder showed no sign of emptying — it still burned with the sensation of being far too full. Good, because I wasn’t ready for this to end.

And, finally, my piss landed on my face, pounding against my mouth, demanding that my lips open and I taste my golden nectar, straight from the tap. But I couldn’t bring myself to open my lips and taste what I so badly wanted to taste — some part of me was still rebelling, some part that wasn’t ready to admit that I might be into far dirtier and kinkier sex than I ever imagined.

But I had to open my mouth — I didn’t know how long it would take for me to work up to pissing on myself again, so I had to do it now or else I’d regret it for weeks. I just had to open them a little bit, let a few drops splash in, that was all…

I opened my mouth and my stream poured right in. My hot, salty, tangy piss flooded my mouth, spilling out the sides. I continued to let my piss fill my mouth, but I still refused to swallow. I think some part of me knew that if I swallowed, there was no turning back. But why was I doing this? I had to keep asking myself that — I was doing this because I wanted to experience what I saw online. If I was going to do that, I had to swallow it down.

I shut my eyes tight — I have no idea why — and swallowed what was in my mouth. My piss poured down my throat and sloshed into my stomach. That was … not bad. Actually, it was pretty hot.

I opened my mouth again, let it fill up, and swallowed down another mouthful. And I did it one more time before my bladder finally started to approach empty. My arc of sparkling golden pleasure shrank, hitting only my abs, and then it sputtered out, sending a few last drops rolling out of my slit and down the shaft of my cock.

Submitting To My Black Master

Posted on May 8, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

It’s Adam’s first day in prison and he’s terrified. His uncle warned him what to expect, that someone might take advantage of a pretty-boy like him, but that going along with it could get him protection. But no matter how much he’s prepared himself for this moment, he’s quaking in fear when he sees his cellmate—Tyrone—a tall, muscle-bound, dominating black man who has a thing for skinny white guys like him. When the cells are locked and the lights go out, just as Adam thinks his cellmate might leave him alone, Tyrone clamps his hand over Adam’s mouth and whispers in his ear, “Don’t scream, white boy.” Yet, despite his fear, Adam can’t get over how turned on he is as he realizes he has no choice but to submit to his black master.

WARNING: This 4,700-word short story contains an explicit sex scene between a dominating black man and a skinny white guy that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

A heavy set of footsteps echoed up the range, coming our way. I looked at the cell door and saw a portly guard walk by, looking in our cell to ensure Tyrone and I were both inside. I made eye contact with the guard and he gave me a look of pity, a look that told me he knew I wouldn’t last long, and then he continued on, checking the rest of the cells. Ten minutes later, the lights went out in all the cells, leaving only a dim illumination from the corridor.

My heart pounded in my chest and I knew my eyes were bug-eyed. I tried to still my breathing to calm my entire body, so that I could listen for any movements below me. Would he do it tonight? After what felt like half an hour of total silence and stillness, my heart calmed and my eyes drifted closed. Maybe I would be okay.

Then I heard the rustle of fabric from the bed beneath me. I strained to hear any further sounds, but it was silent. Okay, he just rolled over.

I jerked and gasped when a hand landed over my mouth.

“Don’t scream, white boy.” Tyrone’s voice was low and harsh in my ear. “Now get on your fuckin’ knees.”

He released his hand from my face and I didn’t scream — I was too terrified to do so. I shuffled to the edge of the bunk and hopped down, but in my nervousness, I stumbled and fell to my knees in front of him. Something heavy and warm slapped my forehead.

Oh, God, it was his cock. And it was fucking huge!

Hot Tub Seduction

Posted on May 8, 2017May 4, 2025 by indieerotica

Pizza delivery boy Frank feels like the luckiest man on earth when two hot older women in a hot tub desperately want his sausage pizza. Frank is a virgin with a high libido and a thing for older women, so just the sight of these two ladies in the hot tub is enough to get his fantasies going. But then it becomes increasingly clear that the women intend to seduce him and use him as their pleasure toy. Despite the imminent return of the women’s husbands, Frank can’t help himself as he gives in to his desires and decides this is the perfect time to finally lose his virginity.

WARNING: This 4,100-word short story contains a an explicit sex scene between a virginal pizza delivery boy and two hot MILFs that will get you hot and bothered, and is intended for mature adults only.

I glanced at the bill taped to the top of the box. “It's $14.77, ma'am.”

The blonde looked up at me through her eyelashes. “I told you—it's Sonya.”

I felt a blush warm my cheeks. “It's $14.77, Sonya.”

Sonya looked at her friend—at Jessica—again. Some secret look, a flicker of the eyes and an upward twitch at the corners of their mouths, passed between them in that briefest of moments. “Excellent,” Sonya said, looking at me again. “I've got some cash for you.”

Sonya stood up, rising out of the water like a goddess. As I'd hoped, she had no top on. Water ran in rivulets down over her heavy tits. Her nipples hardened and got pointier as the cool air ran over them; water dripped from her nipples like a leaky tap. She walked forward, rising out of the water as she climbed the steps of the hot tub. My jaw just about dropped when I realised she wasn't wearing any bottoms, either, when her shaved pussy rose above the waterline.

My grip on the pizza box faltered, but I managed to catch it before it fell to the ground.

“Don't drop it,” Jessica said from back in the hot tub, “we really have a craving for sausage...pizza.”

“Jessica, could you give the poor boy a hand while I go inside to get my wallet?” Sonya said as she brushed past me. Her wet tits pressed against my arm and it was like all the blood drained from my brain, I instantly felt dizzy and almost lost the pizza again. That was the closest I’d been with a naked woman and it was incredible.

“Of course, of course,” Jessica said. Then she stood and climbed the steps, too, just as majestically and goddess-like as Sonya, swaying her hips with every step. Jessica was also naked with smaller breasts that bounced as she walked, but with much darker nipples. Like Sonya, Jessica was easily more than twice my age, but I found the maturity to be one of her best features. She came up close to me and took the pizza box, propping up her breasts with the cardboard. “Let me put this over here,” she said, and turned to a patio table.

She bent down as she put the box on the table and took a big whiff of the pizza. She wiggled her ass at me and I could see the folds of her pussy, like it was calling out to me to shove my cock deep inside. I didn’t know if she was actually that into pizza or if she was using it as an excuse to bend over—either way, I didn’t really care. She looked over her shoulder at me, still bent over at the waist. “I love sausage,” she said.