Romans & histoires Foreskin's Lament A Memoir

When I came to, I found myself in an operating room. The doctor spoke to me coldly, "Miss Larson, I heard you were dumped because of your weight and sent abroad by your stepmother to be disposed of. Want revenge?" His whisper in my ear was like the devil himself, tempting and seductive. I clutched at my excess flesh, "I want to change. I want to be thin!" The hatred in my eyes seemed to satisfy him. He clapped his hands and began prepping for surgery.

“The victory is that the story of this place continues, with us in it. Not as heroes, but as… caretakers in a very long paragraph.” Leo scribbled in his notebook. “I like that.” Later, at a casual dinner at the Salty Dog with the whole, noisy gang, Anya took candid shots of us arguing over the bill, of Chloe demonstrating a splinting technique on a napkin, of Miranda and Hank discovering a shared hatred for a particular species of invasive barnacle. As the evening wound down, Leo turned to me. “There’s an elegiac tone to your book, Gwen. A sense of loss amid the win. Do you still feel that?”

"I am going to be inside you in a minute, and you cannot get friction on the wrong part of your cock this way." "I also can’t come with no friction." "No friction on the ring. The shaft is fine. Do not grind the ring into the mattress." "You've thought this through." "Of course." He rolls over onto his hands and knees, presenting his ass. The fading cane marks are still visible across his skin. I drag a finger across them very lightly. "They are almost gone. I am sorry it hurt you in a way you did not like." “I deserved them. And we didn’t know before trying that I didn’t like it.”

I walked naked to the bathroom, skin prickling in the cool air, nipples tight and aching from hours of friction against chiffon. The shower was punishing. I turned the temperature as high as it would go until my skin burned pink, until steam filled the small space and blurred the mirror. I scrubbed with the rough loofah until my arms hurt—between my thighs, over my breasts, along my neck where faint purple marks bloomed like accusations. I wanted to erase him. Wanted to erase the way my body still remembered every inch of him stretching around the thick dildo, the way his hole fluttered and clenched when I curled my fingers against his prostate, the way he sobbed when he came so hard ropes o

Looking down at my naked self, I shook my head in disappointment, especially when I saw the hickeys along my inner thighs. Although I'd been drunk, the memories of how Francesco had made hot, aggressive love to me, was extremely vivid in my mind. Swallowing harshly, I pushed the lascivious thoughts down and got out of bed. Thankfully, my clothes and shoes were on the floor, so I quickly changed into them, my cheeks reddening as I remembered how Francesco had slid my dress off me. “Get a grip, Jo,” I muttered underneath my breath, as I grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

While he couldn't recall the events of the previous night, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him, suggesting that something regrettable had taken place. As he gingerly rose from the bed, a sharp ache in his back caught his attention. Reality hit him as he realized both of them were unclothed. A few fragmented memories from the night before trickled back into his mind – memories of intimate moments shared with Alistair and lost his virginity. The weight of those memories brought tears to his eyes; he hadn't anticipated this outcome.

Joy’s books ! Oh my fvcking god ! Suddenly, Conrad dug his claws a bit harder in my sides to gain attention and it was a moment of revelation when I found out that I was an incorrigible mas*ch*st as I moaned and burst out my remaining seed. Good gracious ! How embarrassing.

He said, voice low and calm. He dragged the flogger across her back first, soft leather teasing her skin. Then he brought it down on her ass causing a sharp sting that bloomed into heat. Clara gasped. He did it again, harder, alternating cheeks until her skin burned and her pussy dripped onto the sheets. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmured. “Ass all red for me already.” He pushed two fingers inside her without warning. She wet, but the stretch made her moan into the pillow. Julian fucked her with his fingers while the flogger kept landing lightly on her thighs, and harder on her ass. Every strike pushed her closer, and her clit throbbed untouched.

But now, that mark had been exposed in such a degrading way, subjected to the lewd commentary of thousands of men. My chest burned with anguish, blood rushing to my head in waves. At that exact moment, a young nurse approached me with a clipboard. "Mr. Remi Emerson, it's your turn for the vasectomy procedure. Please bring your medical records and follow me to the operating room." Before she could finish, I'd already torn the medical records to shreds. "I'm not doing it. Call the next person." After delivering those cold words, I stood and left, dialing Iris' number as I walked. Tonight, she had used the excuse of her mother being ill and needing to stay at her family home to care for her, so

he said back staring at me. “What er … um .. what are you wearing baby?” He asked me. His voice had dropped several octaves.. making my insides turn to lava. “I got this the day I was taken .. I thought for a while I’d never be able to wear it after all that. But I want to wear it .. for you.” I told him. I felt self conscious.. with all my bruises and cuts and stitches. My ribs were still broken and taped .. but I still wanted to wear it, for him.