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Samantha Willows
Stories (6/0)
Spreading Holiday Cheer
Christmas has cum and gone, and if you’re like me, you could still use a little more cream filling. A new year is on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean this one is ready to be discarded like last night’s bar slut. There is still some time to send 2021 out with a bang, my lovelies.
By Samantha Willows2 years ago in Filthy
Getting Railed by a Coworker
Preston and I had worked together for almost three years. He looked like a movie star with his suits that fit perfectly, the shades he wore every day, and the sandy brown beard that managed not to hide his chiseled face. Tall and lean, his body cut perfectly, he commanded the room as soon as he walked in. He did not belong behind a desk in an insurance agency. He belonged on a movie set or at a photo shoot. He knew how to carry himself so that the tattoos climbing above his collar on his neck and reaching out of his sleeves on the backs of his hands only added a little extra spice to his look.
By Samantha Willows3 years ago in Filthy
Dear Daddy,
I came here to lay you down on a bed of autumn leaves in the glow of a full moon, its light sifting through the branches overhead to let me see your delicious flesh while keeping my form in the shadows. I wanted to mount you and fuck you until your soul seeped out through your sex and into me. I wanted to devour you and touch that place deep inside where you know damn well you want to be devoured.
By Samantha Willows3 years ago in Filthy
Why I Became a Slut
I met my first husband in high school. I lost my virginity to him in the front seat of his Blazer down at the park on the way home from a date one night. It wasn’t quite the way I had imagined my first time – rose pedals on the bed, soft kisses in the golden light of a Sunday afternoon spilling over us through sheer curtains, gentle, caring, both us getting pleasure from it, feeling loved. It was quick, rushed, almost like he was trying to see if he could get away with it. Afterwards, he dropped me off with a kiss on the cheek, backing out of the driveway before I even had the door to my parents’ house open.
By Samantha Willows3 years ago in Filthy
Penetrating the Solstice
The Solstice neared. The nights had grown longer, colder. Rare was the wanderer caught walking through the night. All had turned indoors, spending time close by family and friends, seeking warmth, shelter, assurance. Seeking affirmation, that life would continue in this time of dying when the world fell into its gray wintry slumber.
By Samantha Willows3 years ago in Filthy