A Better Man Than I

Amethyst Purple Foreword This is a work of fiction which exists solely in my imagination. While I've used actual towns, landmarks and locations in the following tale, none of the people, events or businesses depicted have any actual or implied connection to any actual event or person, alive or dead, with the exception of certain historical references. These references are included only to allow the reader to be able to relate better to the timeline of this work of fiction. According to the Mayo Clinic, Cystic Fibrosis (CF) is an inherited disorder that causes severe damage to the lungs, digestive system and other organs in the body by causing normally thin and lubricating secretions to become thick and sticky. This causes tubes, ducts and passageways, especially in the lungs and pancreas to become clogged, reducing or eliminating the organs' functionality. May is CF Awareness Month and is identified with the color purple. With its vivid violet purple color, Amethyst is recogn

So I was back in New Jersey for a week to take care of some business. Friday and all done so I had until Tuesday when I would fly home. Had my brother's basement apartment so no way to have fun there plus I left most of my toys home. Then it decided to tramp it up. I went to Burlington Store and brought some shiney pantyhose, a bra, panties, satin gym shorts, and some cheap makeup and lipstick. Then to the Party Store and got a cheap wig. Stopped at the drugstore and got a Fleet enema and Vaseline. Then the liquor store for a few 40's of malt liquor and some Everclear. Got home and cleaned myself out good, then an enema of malt liquor and 3 ounces of Everclear. As I held it in I dressed. Put on my chastity cage, then pantyhose after cutting out an opening in the ass in case I got real lucky. On went the panties and shorts. Then a pair of baggy sweatpants. Next the bra and a tank top. I cut a hole out where my nipples were exposed. Some makeup and red lipstick. I expelled the

Central Manhattan late afternoon, two weeks out from Christmas, was no place for a frail old lady, one whose entire possessions barely half-filled the rusted shopping trolley she trundled before her on the sidewalk. Not immediately obvious to the occasional on-looker, but her wheeled companion served its purpose as much for support these days, as for its meager storage capacity. Cataracts had eroded Lucy's vision to the point she had to squint hard to make-out objects in shop windows. Crossing Madison Avenue at 59th Street was a risky prospect at the best of times, conferring the onus of road safety on the driver rather than the elderly pedestrian, as she made inevitably slow progress towards 5th Avenue, where she turned the corner and headed south. She looked up as a few flakes of snow drifted on to the already cold handle of her trusty old cart. She stopped under a nearby shop entrance and withdrew a pair of threadbare woolen gloves from one of the supermarket bags in the cart,

So my sweet, innocent, 25 year old wife, who was a virgin when we met, had now been with Matt twice. Steve had watched Matt dump a massive load on her cute landing strip right up to her gorgeous breasts. I was dying to actually watch her get properly fucked now. The last time with Matt lead to several pillow talk sessions and I asked what was so good about it. Nadia would lead with, "I just know deep down, I'm not supposed to do anyone else, so it's wrong but it's so exciting! It's also such a turn on to know I'm making you horny and jealous." "Ok honey, I get that but you've got to tell me about actually getting fucked by Matt. How is it good?" I asked. She hesitated, "Are you sure you want to know?" "Of course!" I said. She smiled timidly, "He's different. You're cut, he's not. It feels different". "Ok?" I hoped she'd continue. "And well, you know how when you're really horn

Hi all! Here it is, Chapter 10 of Dead and Horny! This chapter is the shortest one in the book because it's the calm before the storm, so buckle up. There are only two chapters after this one! I want to thank everyone for your kind words and feedback over the last several months. This started as an attempt to give you some sparkling fresh content during Covid, but it's also given me some breathing room in regards to writing my main HFHM storyline. Some final revelations coming up! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for being awesome! The After-Party Lily's mind flitted about like a bird in a cage, unable to focus long enough to reform her body. The darkness of her mind transformed into smoky clouds that curled around her like snakes as she plummeted through the Dreamscape toward destinations unknown. Occasionally she would see her own hands, or even her legs, but her non-existent insides felt like they were on fire. The smoke parted and she slammed into the cold

The package arrived at her condo just when he said it would. He had sent an email giving her instructions on preparing for his arrival in Seattle in two days. Part of the preparation was gathering what they needed to play in real life. She had gone to Capitol Hill to Babeland Toy Store, and picked up everything on the list, condoms, a cane, belt, cuffs, and a special strawberry flavored lube called "Sliquid Swirl," she knew it would be her first time giving a blow job for real and she needed all the help she can get so she wouldn't be intimidated. She also purchased a few items that she hoped he would like even though they were not on the list. There was one thing that he said he would have mailed directly to her. As she opened the box she saw the words LOVENSE Lush 2 Bullet Vibrator. Huh, she thought. She has a draw full of vibrators, she wasn't clear why he thought she needed a new one. When she read the box however, it became clear that this wasn't an ordinar

Hi Smutlovers, the title should explain it all: this is a short femdom father-daughter incest story. Simple. Depending on votes/feedback I'll add chapters/characters/plot and semen. Your pen-pal, Joe. "Enjoying yourself?" Daisy had seen me sniffing her panties as I dropped them into the laundry basket. "Sick fuck", she said, without averting her gaze from the big wall TV, where a bloodbath was about to ensue in a mansion somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains, the climactic final level of Hitman 3. At least while she was playing the game, I was getting some respite. But soon she'd finish it, and then she'd resume her real-life game of "Manipulate Daddy" again. I resumed my chore hastily, picking her clothes from the floor. I found a sock, one of mine, which I surreptitiously mixed in with the batch, even though she didn't allow it. I made a mental note to hide it on the lowest rung of the drying rack later, out of her sight. I watched her,