rochauthrowaway

Short story that I wrote in about two hours. *** This story takes place while I was on a business trip to Los Angeles for a mid-size American bank just a few weeks back. My colleague Hailey and I were attending a human resources conference in the city and had just gone over to pick up a car from one of the rental places just outside of LAX airport. Hailey doesn’t drive and had asked me if I would be willing to ferry her out to the hotel in Riverside that we were supposed to stay at. Said something about avoiding the hassle of getting a hundred-dollar-plus cab fare comped by our compa

This story was originally set in a Christmas tree lot and I changed it around to take place in a Halloween pumpkin patch after I had a hard time getting that idea to work the way I wanted it to. Anyways, enjoy and please check out my profile for more stories. *** This story takes place a few years back during my time as a teacher at a public elementary school. The school I was working at had a longstanding tradition of taking its students out on a trip to a local pumpkin patch a couple of days before Halloween. The kids would each pick out a pumpkin and take it back to the school to

Wrote this in a couple of hours. Finally using a proper desktop computer to type rather than a friggin' phone. There will hopefully be a more substantial story soon. Contains some female semi-public pissing. *** This story takes place a few springs ago. I was in university at the time and had decided to take advantage of some of the first really good weather of the year to do some studying outside of my cramped dorm room. I grab a couple of textbooks and find a spot to read in the shade offered by an old oak tree located just behind one of the campus’s baseball fields. A pair o

At the risk of spamming these forums, this will be the last short story from me for at least a little while. Thanks and enjoy. *** Sophie pedals her road bike hard through the midday Seattle traffic, changing gears lighting-fast and swerving by cabs and delivery trucks and busses as she rushes to deliver yet another parcel on the clock. She has a love-hate relationship with her gig job as a bicycle courier; on the one hand, delivering all manner of packages across the city helps pay her exorbitant college tuition and keeps her in perfect shape; on the other, her clients’ demands for

I’m usually not particularly interested in writing in historical settings, as I figure most time periods in human history are rather unsexy, but I’ve always been a little intrigued by what sort of story I could write involving women using a bourdalou. If you don’t know, bourdalous, apparently also known as coach pots, were a sort of chamber pot specifically designed for women wearing the elaborate dresses of the 18th and 19th centuries to pee into without having to fully undress. From what I’ve read, they were often used in quite public situations. Anyways, here’s a story involving three young

Five sentences, again. Hannah hurries through the Christmas village, utterly desperate to relieve herself after drinking maybe a little too much hot cider at the party she just left. Fuck, she squirms, suddenly feeling a thimbleful of something warm rush into her panties; definitely a lot too much cider. Eventually, she comes across snowman caught in a kaleidoscopic array of lights and falling snow. Unable to wait another moment, she ducks behind the snowman, lowers her black yoga pants and lace g-string down to around her knees so that Frosty gets an unobstructed view of her

Trying to write some short stuff that cuts right to the chase. Still writing on a phone rather than with a proper keyboard, and consequently I think this could be a lot better, but whatever. ... Emilia turns the motorboat engine off, stands up, and makes her way to the back of the boat. She’s gorgeous and the bikini she’s chosen to wear shows off almost all of her athletic twenty-six-year-old body. A moment later she lounges back on the boat's to tan, unfastens her bikini top, and then casually tosses the top aside entirely. Her pert breasts tumble out and the barbell piercing

This was intended for the five-sentence short form thread, but I guess it actually fits here better: Rachel ducks out of the team bus, leaving behind the drained iced pineapple matcha cup she’s been sipping at ever since they left Des Moines, and dashes over to the first source of semi-privacy she sees – a sun-beat non-name cola vending machine situated off to the side of what she’s sure must be the only service station for a hundred miles. She takes the briefest moment to glance around for potential onlookers, and when satisfied that no one is watching, hurriedly tugs her volleybal

This alternative scene would take place right at the end of the main story. Read the main story first if you haven't already. ... “Okay, I’m done,” Emily announces, apparently finally done peeing. A moment later, she gives her ass a shake to throw off any urine still clinging to her body and pulls up her g-string panties. She lets me watch and I do my best to keep mental notes. Emily only just manages to get her panties back into position when I see her release a small spurt of urine right into them. Must have misjudged her bladder a bit. It’s not much but I watch the pink laven

Thanks for the positive response. Probably won't be a part two, but I'm thinking about writing some "alternate" scenes where events unfold a little differently than they do in the original post. Thanks for the reply. As above, probably won't be much more for this story, but I'm thinking about a new story that may or may not involve the protagonist getting lost in a Halloween corn maze with a bunch of inebriated university girls.

I wrote a fair portion of this on a phone - by no means the optimal method - so there might be some typos and such. I'll probably fix and update when I get a chance. ... This story takes place a few months after the US Army posted me to Paris. I was working at something called the Office of Defence Cooperation, which is basically the US military’s portion of the American embassy in France, and I had just started dating this American girl named Emily. A civilian at the embassy whom I’m friends with had set me up with her – said she was like her third cousin or step-cousi