fiction
Erotic, romantic, and sexy fiction for the Filthy community.
Ultimate care plan (nsfw)
About 3 years ago I had a motorbike accident, I broke both my wrists, my left forearm, dislocated my shoulder, broke a leg and 3 ribs. I spent about 5 days in the hospital before being sent home to recover because they needed the bed space, I was still in a lot of pain and couldn't use my hands so I need to have careers come in 3 times a day. They would come in the morning and help me get washed and breakfast sorted out, they would come at around midday and sort out some lunch for me and then they would come in the even and help me get washed and ready for bed.
By Alan Barker5 years ago in Filthy
Follow Me to the Woods
AIRPORT: WELCOME BACK I unbuckled my seatbelt and waited till the stewardess got up and opened the airplane door. I stepped into the aisle and got my backpack and laptop case out of the overhead compartment. I checked my seat for anything I might have left and when all i saw was a butt print and a pillow I walked out waving politely back to the flight attendants thanking me for flying on the airlines. Code for thanks for my pay-check.
By Ashley Alexander5 years ago in Filthy
The Northern Wars
FAEN, AEN Autumn, 1E72 There was a light mist in the air as cool autumn rain sprinkled down on the elvish town of Faen. The sun was setting beyond the Aryan Forest that comprised their nation of Aenor, sinking on the horizon of the Aerbonean Ocean off the coast of Legion some hundreds of leagues away to the west. Sendarin guided his boat back to shore as the evening closed in upon him. He would tie it off at one of the posts that served as the town's makeshift dock so that the tide didn't carry it out to sea, rowing his ways towards the elvish longboats that lined Faen's shore. He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the beach and took his boat to rest with its fellows after a long and peaceful day of fishing.
By Kelson Hayes5 years ago in Filthy
Rorie's Locket
“Rorie’s Locket” by Stan L. Prager I noticed Rorie limping again because I was watching her step around the scattered stones and rotting trunks at the banks of the little stream. I wasn’t looking for her feet or her limp but rather for snakes. She was terrified of snakes but still she rarely watched her feet when she was down here with the filter pump, crouched at the edge of the water. I also liked to watch her ass. Rorie had a fine ass. It was dark and cool here, out of the sun, and I watched Rorie’s ass while she used steady, rhythmic strokes on the pump until we had two liters of reasonably safe drinking water.
By Stan Prager5 years ago in Filthy
Subspace
Dara snuggled up against Stan smiling as he ran his hand down her side cupping and playing with her breast on the way down her side, slipping his hand into the waist band of her yoga pants to start slowly rubbing her clit. Smiling when she moaned low arching her back against him. shifting slightly Stan pulled his hand from her pants placing both hands at her hips. Pushing gently, he silently got her to stand.
By Marie Ross5 years ago in Filthy
Chaotica
I was dancing at Villa Alpha, one of the most popular nightclubs in New York City. By now, After two years, I was used to the mechanics of it all — the smell of warm, aroused bodies, the impossibly high heels, the skimpy outfits, the gymnastic tricks that would get me extra UniCurrency tips. Today I had on the expensive holographic lingerie that Janet had just given me for my twenty-first birthday. It changed images with my movements. It shifted from scenes of the city skyline to a collage of red lips to glitter and back to the skyline again. It made me a hit with the crowd. I laughed as I did an upside down midair split that earned me a standing ovation. The UC counter on the screen behind me shot up with tips deposited into my account, and there was an explosion of virtual hearts and roses.
By Fatima Kuyateh5 years ago in Filthy
Devoted
Buildings left in a destitute state crumble into rubble, a dusty breeze flutters what remains of a child’s clawed and tattered dress snagged atop a perched inn sign, violently stained with innocent blood. Golden rays of winter’s afternoon sun blanket the deserted streets. Shadow pockets in alleyways and corners steadily creep outward as dusk eerily approaches. In half-plated armor, she passes through the decrepit echo of a once prosperous town long gone. The sheathed rapier buckles by her side as with her every step clicks the rubble beneath her. A silver locket dangles against her breastplate, arcane inscriptions glimmer in the sunlight etched atop the lockets heart-shaped face and a cloud of fog follows her breath in the chill noon air.
By Femi Akinboye5 years ago in Filthy
