1. Hello,

    New users on the forum won't be able to send PM untill certain criteria are met (you need to have at least 6 posts in any sub forum).

    One more important message - Do not answer to people pretending to be from xnxx team or a member of the staff. If the email is not from forum@xnxx.com or the message on the forum is not from StanleyOG it's not an admin or member of the staff. Please be carefull who you give your information to.

    Best regards,


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  2. Hello,

    You can now get verified on forum.

    The way it's gonna work is that you can send me a PM with a verification picture. The picture has to contain you and forum name on piece of paper or on your body and your username or my username instead of the website name, if you prefer that.

    I need to be able to recognize you in that picture. You need to have some pictures of your self in your gallery so I can compare that picture.

    Please note that verification is completely optional and it won't give you any extra features or access. You will have a check mark (as I have now, if you want to look) and verification will only mean that you are who you say you are.

    You may not use a fake pictures for verification. If you try to verify your account with a fake picture or someone else picture, or just spam me with fake pictures, you will get Banned!

    The pictures that you will send me for verification won't be public

    Best regards,


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  1. cyrano

    cyrano Sex Lover

    Apr 27, 2014
    This story was originally posted in parts over two sites due to censorship. I’ve decided to edit and repost the whole story here.


    “What are we going to do?!”

    The familiar plaintive wail jolted me out of my sleep. Shit! Bonnie and Clyde were back. Why today of all days? I glanced over at the alarm clock. It was seven a.m. My job interview was at eleven. But with these two loitering outside my apartment, it might as well be never. I was trapped.

    “For God sake, why do they keep ignoring us, Clyde?!” Bonnie bellowed loudly and sorrowfully.

    I stumbled to the bathroom with my job interview on my mind. I had to land this job. I only had two months of cash reserves left. After that was gone, my only option was moving back in with my parents. Failure was not an option; I had to get past these two. I needed a plan.

    The shower cleared my head some but I was still antsy. If push came to shove, I knew I would have to face my fears. I couldn’t keep cowering in my apartment every time these fuckers showed up.

    Suddenly, my heart picked up a beat; I couldn’t hear them. Had they left? I tiptoed to the living room curtain and peeled it back just enough for a peek. Fuck! They were still there. Bonnie was down on her knees blowing Clyde in the front yard. Clyde wasn’t making a peep. Clyde never makes a peep. He had to be a mute. And since he was never going to say the young blonde’s real name, I gave her one. I decided “Bonnie” was just as good a name as any.

    Bonnie was now deep into her sword swallowing act: eyes red and bulging, snot bubbles forming in her nostrils. I could see the outline of the head of Clyde’s long, thick snake going deep into her throat, no doubt crushing her tonsils on the way down. Beads of sweat were shining through his buzz cut. Sweet agony spread across his face as Bonnie slowly pulled his cock out to catch her breath, lightly licking the head on the way out, followed by unimaginable ecstasy as it plunged back down her throat again.

    My dick was in my hand before I knew it. “Just once I’d like to know what that feels like,” I thought while I watched Bonnie choke on Clyde’s massive cock. Saliva sputtered from the corners of her mouth.

    “I don’t have time for this shit,” I muttered in frustration, unhanding my dick. It was eight o’clock; I had just three hours to get downtown. I hurriedly dressed, had a light breakfast of cereal and toast. It was now eight-thirty; Mothers will be walking their kids to the elementary school up the block – usually a good distraction. If that failed, I’d catch some of my neighbors on their way out; slip by using them as cover. I grabbed my satchel and headed for the lobby; I had to be ready.

    “I know you see me bitch! You know you’d loved to get fucked like this!”

    I took a quick peek through the lobby glass door. Bonnie and Clyde’s clothes were strewn about the lawn as if a stiff wind had blown them off a clothesline. Clyde’s sweaty muscular torso gleamed in the early morning sunshine; his knees rutted the lawn as he impaled Bonnie with abandon. The object of Bonnie’s scorn was a yuppie, baby in her arm, her little girl in hand. She totally ignored the couple in heat.

    “Fuck,” I cursed under my breath. Bonnie was facing the wrong way. The lobby door was right in her line of sight. A mixture of pain and pleasure was imprinted on her face as her hips met Clyde’s thrusts. There was no way the early morning processional to the elementary school was going to be enough of a distraction. I definitely needed my neighbors to shield me now. I turned my attention to the stairwell, listening intently for the echoes of footfalls. As the minutes passed, my anger built. I would give it five more minutes, then head for the gate. Fuck the consequences!

    “Why can’t they see us, Clyde.”

    The sound of Bonnie’s voice was now fainter. I returned to the lobby door. They were on the sidewalk, heading across the street. Thank God! I waited until they were out of sight and then practically floated as I ran to the bus stop.


    After a metro rail ride and a couple of bus transfers, I made it downtown with twenty minutes to spare. I was thanking the gods for my good fortune when I got gut punched a half a block from my interview.

    “I know you see me!” shouted a naked middle-aged black male.

    He was huge, built like an NFL lineman, complete with a paunch in his midriff. He had a petite redhead – also completely bare – by her hair, slinging her like a rag doll. They were between me and the site of my job interview, but I didn’t dare cross the street and circle around them – there was no telling who might be watching me. I had to walk right past them, ignoring them like everyone else.

    “Somebody, get him off of me!” the redhead pleaded in a slight southern drawl. She was trying in vain to free herself, frantically flailing about; her body botched red from the near noonday sun.

    “Shut up bitch!” the black man shouted, giving her a teeth rattling slap; his huge hand easily covered her whole face. It was taking quite an effort not to turn my head in their direction. But in my peripheral vision I caught a glimpse of the man’s semi-erect dick swinging between his legs.

    “Nobody’s dick is that big,” I thought. I fought the urge to take a second look.

    “I’m gonna fuck her, Missa Charlie!” the black man boasted. “Split her ass into. You better stop me.”

    I was now close enough to see the spittle in the corners of the man’s mouth. The redhead, still dazed from the slap, was barely able to keep her feet. My heart was pounding through my chest. Just a few more feet and I would be past the spectacle and home free. I had some cover but not as much as I wanted. To my left was a short man with big ears and thick black hair; to my right a tall, fat, bald man in an expensive suit and confident gait. I would have preferred that their positions were reversed.


    I flinched at the redhead’s gut wrenching screams as the black man plunged his dick into her. I fought to keep my composure; I’d come too close to my goal to make a mistake now.

    “Shut up and take this dick, bitch!” the black man commanded. “I warned you, Missa Charlie, didn’t I?” he said to no one in particular. “Oh, and this some good pussy, Missa Charlie! I can see why you don’t want a nigga to have none. Nothin’ but white pussy for me from now on. There gonna be brown babies everywhere!”

    The redhead was whimpering and repeatedly murmuring “mommy”.

    I let out a sigh of relief after I finally passed them. I was now just steps away from the building lobby.

    “Niggers, huh?”

    I reflexively turned to the voice coming at me from below. Fuck!

    “Gotcha!” the little man said as a smile spread across his face; his big ears almost wiggling in delight. “You see me! Keep walking and look straight ahead. Wouldn’t want that crazy buck following us, now would we?”

    “I’m gonna fuck her in the ass, Missa Charlie!” I heard the black man shout before we turned the corner.

    “Nooo!” the redhead screamed. The slap sounded as if I was right next to them.

    “Shut up bitch! Who gave you a vote?”


    We walked a block before the little man spoke again.

    “Don’t worry, young man. I’ll reward you for your time. I have plenty of money. I just need to get home.” He stuck out his hand. “My name is Kiimpu.” I ignored his hand.

    “Are you going to reward with me with a new job too? Because that’s what you just cost me.”

    “You weren’t going to get that job, young man. It was filled this morning.”

    “Don’t talk to me,” I said, almost choking up. That interview was my last hope. I finally gathered myself enough to say, “I’ll take you home, but then we’re done, you hear me? Just don’t say another word to me.”

    I was steaming with anger the entire bus trip to Korea Town. And every time I looked over at the little man I got angrier.


    Kiimpu’s neighborhood was about the size of a movie lot, and had the neat set-like appearance of one. It was a couple of blocks of matchbook-sized houses and neatly trimmed lawns standing in open defiance to the high rises and office buildings that had sprung up around them, dwarfing them in size. I didn’t even know this neighborhood existed.

    Kiimpu’s welcome mat had remnants of police tape strewn across it.

    “I have keys in the back,” he said.

    He led me around back through a wooden gate to a patio surrounded by plants. This guy had one hell of a green thumb. Spare keys were hidden in the soil of one of the potted plants. Police tape enclosed the entire patio.

    The beeping of the alarm started my heart racing the second I opened the door.

    “1137,” Kiimpu said. “That’s the code.”

    I entered the code and the beeping stopped. A small sigh of relief escaped my lips before an awful stench burned a trail into my nostrils with my next breath. The smell of death had settled on the place like bay area fog.

    “There’s tuna sandwiches and cokes in the fridge,” the little man said. Was he kidding?

    “No, thank you.” Breathing was becoming a chore. I just wanted to get out of there.

    “Come on. Let’s get your money. I’m a man of my word,” Kiimpu said, leading me past the chalk body outline without giving it a glance and down the hall to his bedroom.

    “Looks like you’ve been picked clean,” I said, looking at the trashed bedroom. “What the thieves didn’t get, I’m sure the cops have entered into evidence.”

    I was prepared to walk away empty handed. I didn’t care. I just wanted fresh air and lots of distance from this house.

    “One place is always safe from the godless bastards,” he said, pointing to a huge bible on his night stand. “John 3:16,” he added. I opened the bible and turned to the passage. Five crisp one-hundred dollar bills were bookmarking it.

    “Thank you, “I said, turning to see I was alone in the room. I stepped into the hallway to see Kiimpu lying inside the chalk outline, weeping. I hated this part. I slowly tiptoed past him, trying not to disturb him in his grief.

    “Freeze! Police! Let me see your hands!” I slowly raised my hands, trying not to even breathe. It looked like I was going to spend the night in jail.

    • Like Like x 2
  2. knighthood

    knighthood Sex Lover

    Jan 22, 2015
    Strange but interesting so please continue
  3. cyrano

    cyrano Sex Lover

    Apr 27, 2014

    The police station I was chauffeured to sparkled like a new penny. It was a modern building, perfectly framed by immaculate grounds; If not for the sign outside, it could have been mistaken for a tony private school.

    But it was all just a facade; a shiny veneer wrapped around a rotted tooth; a gleaming smile for a society in denial.

    The jailhouse smell assaulted me as soon as I stepped into the building. Lysol and bleach were in a battle with street grime. Street grime was winning. Traces of vomit and urine wafted about in the poorly circulating air. The dingy walls and sterile décor crushed the spirit. No wonder cops were always angry; they worked out of a public toilet.

    I was quickly marched over and shackled to a bench; business was slow. I was the only customer on the long empty row. I started preparing myself for the holding cell – the worst part of the jailing experience. I was in for a long, uncomfortable night with the other street flotsam before being shipped off to county in…


    I smelled him before I saw him. His pores reeked of the sickly sweet smell of evil: vomit laced with molasses. A uniformed officer was leading him over to be shackled next to me. His vile, unspeakable acts loomed larger with every step he took. The pit of my stomach began to toss. The state of my nausea precipitated a full blown panic attack.

    “Officer, you can’t seat him next to me!” It was meant as a plea but it sounded more like an order.

    “There’s no preferred seating here, sugar.” he said with a weary sigh. The bags under his blood shot eyes and loose jowls made him look years older than he was.

    “No, you don’t understand –“

    “Is there going to be a problem here?” His tone was so icy I knew not to utter another word.

    A smile turned up the corners of my new seatmate’s mouth as the officer turned to leave. I started squirming, pulling away from him even as the cuffs bit into my wrists.

    “Officer!” I yelled at the retreating cop who never broke stride.

    “Somebody get me out of here!” I shouted as my seatmate pulled a snarling puppy from his overcoat.

    “Get me out of here!” I was flailing like a fish in the bottom of a boat as the man beat the puppy with a miniature baseball bat. Its high-pitched yelps stabbed my brain like ice picks. Finally after the puppy stopped resisting, the bastard unzipped his fly.

    I screamed at the top of my lungs, desperately trying to drown out the sound of the poor creature being brutally raped.

    A swarm of uniform officers appeared out of nowhere and pounced on me, cutting off my air. A leather mask was forced over my face and the metal cuffs were replaced by plastic restraints. Before I knew it, I was hogtied and being physically carried somewhere. Finally I was dropped belly down on the concrete floor of a musty room, barren except for a card table and a couple of folding chairs.


    I don’t know how long they left me there alone; I was too busy fighting to breathe through the stifling leather mask to account for time. Finally, I heard the door open. Hard sole shoes clicked on the concrete. Someone was standing over me but I couldn’t lift my head enough to get a good look at him. His shoes were expensive but his cologne was cheap.

    “I hear you put on quite a performance out there, Brendan.” His condescending tone grated on my nerves.

    “I’m Detective White. Now I understand you not wanting to talk to us, but I really don’t think you want us to call the Whacky Wagon. The good doctors over at the booby hatch have a whole new batch of powerful drugs. I’m sure they’d just love trying them out on twitchy hombre like you…Take his mask off.”

    I felt a knee in my back as the mask was removed.

    “Your choice, Brendan. You wanna play with us, or go pill popping with the good doctors.”

    “I wanna stay here,” I said, grateful to be breathing freely again.

    “Now, we want to remove the restraints too, Brendan. But we can’t do that if you’re a danger to yourself or others. Are we going to behave ourselves?”

    I just nodded as best I could. Hands and knees again moved over my body as the restraints were removed. Then I was lifted to my feet. Four men, two of them in uniform carrying tasers, escorted me to a room labeled “Interview Room 4.”

    In the middle of the room was a gray metal table, bolted to the floor. The edges of the table were padded. Electrical tape had been used to doctor the padding in certain spots. Two chairs were at the table. Four others were tossed haphazardly into the other corners of the room.

    “Take a seat, Brendan,” Det. White said, before taking a seat facing the door. “This is my partner, Det. Raymond.” Det. Raymond remained standing. They were an odd couple. Det. White had the build of a tennis player. Det. Raymond had the thick neck and bulky muscles of a wrestler. He also had a walk-in! Damn. They were everywhere today.

    “We’re investigating Mr. Park’s murder,” Det. White began. It doesn’t look good for you, Brendan.”

    Det. Raymond’s walk-in came forward. She was at least six-foot tall, raven black hair, full lips and perky little tits. The black leather dominatrix outfit she was wearing, complete with knee-high boots and riding crop, wasn’t just a costume. She was truly a sadistic bitch, which would make Det. Raymond unpredictable and dangerous.

    “You killed a man for money, Brendan,” Det. White continued. “That puts a needle in your arm. Now, if you cooperate, maybe we can get you a deal. Maybe you get out in time to collect social security.”

    “I didn’t kill anyone,” I protested, my head down, wincing from the pain in my wrists. “I need medical attention. My wrists are turning purple. I think I’ve got permanent damage.”

    “We’ll get you some help. But first we need your statement.”

    “We’re trying to help you here, shit bird!” Det. Raymond yelled, slamming his palms on the table. His nose was just inches from mine. “That old man didn’t have to die!” I could smell Juicy Fruit on his breath; he had a thick wad of it in his cheek as if it were chaw. His walk-in flickered her tongue out at me lustily. I flinched. Damn!

    “Oooh, you see me!” she said, delightedly. “Hi, my name’s Tyra.”

    “Calm down, Ray.” Det. White pleaded, grabbing his partner’s wrist. Det. Raymond backed off. “I’m sure Brendan will cooperate once he understands the seriousness of the situation. Brendan, we have you returning to the scene of the crime. You used a key to get in and you knew the code to the alarm. You were caught red handed, son.”

    “You think we’re idiots, punk?!” Det. Raymond barked.

    “Where were you March eighteenth, Brendan, between two and three a.m.?

    I fought to suppress a smile. They were going to have to kick me loose.

    “I was in county lockup – vagrancy and loitering.” for once I was grateful for going to jail.

    “We’re going to check this out,” Det. Raymond said in a huff. “Heaven help you if you’re wastin’ our fuckin’ time.”

    The detectives exited the room but Tyra stayed behind. She wanted to play.


    “Don’t mind Boochie,” Tyra said. “He’s just angry and confused. He thinks he’s a woman trapped in a man’s body. Let’s keep me a secret, okay? No need for more confusion in
    his fuzzy little head.”

    “Boochie?” I asked. A little confused myself.

    “Boochie!” Her call brought forth a younger Det. Raymond. He was in a bedroom trying to fit his fat feet into a pair of red pumps. The blonde wig he was wearing and his badly applied makeup were even less flattering.

    “Mmm. Nothing like a pair of red pumps to lift a girl’s spirit.” Tyra cooed.

    A giant of a man in policeman’s blues entered the room, startling Det. Raymond.

    “Boochie! I thought by now you would have grown out of this nonsense. But I guess you really are a fag. My poor brother must be tossing in his grave.”

    “No, Uncle Jack, It’s not what you think,” Boochie croaked. “We’re putting on a skit at the academy.”

    “You know what we do to pillow biters around here, don’t you? Is that what you want?”

    “I told you, Uncle, It’s for a skit.” Boochie’s eyes pleaded for mercy.

    Instead his uncle unzipped his fly and pulled out his huge fat dick and let it flop heavily. “Let’s keep it in the family, shall we, Boochie?”

    “Yummy!” Tyra exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “What a beautiful cock this despicable turd had.

    “Get over here, boy!” Uncle Jack commanded. “This is gonna be your graduation present.”

    “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Tyra said, chuckling. “But look at Boochie. The poor baby is trembling.”

    Tyra was replaying her “trap” for me. The Uhkalu are nothing if not patient. They groom their “hosts” from childhood. It starts with just suggestions - a faint inner voice the host mistakes for his subconscious.

    “Go on try it, I bet that feels so good!”

    The next step is isolation.

    “You better not let anyone – especially your family! - know what a freak you really are.

    Finally there is the trap. The host is humiliated in act so shameful – raping puppy, sucking off an uncle – he no longer gives a fuck about being accepted by his fellow man. It’s the point of no return. The walk-in owns him.

    Tyra let out a gasp as Boochie hesitantly wrapped his hand around his uncles’ salami-sized dick.

    “You have to understand, Brendan, it had been sooo long. I almost came just feeling that magnificent tool jump to attention in my hand. I get wet just thinking about it. Look.”

    She hopped onto the table with the agility of a cat and firmly planted the soles of her boots on the table, her palms flat behind her. She slowly spread her legs apart and arched her hips toward me. Her full black bush glistened through her lacy crotchless panties.

    “Go on, lick it Boochie.” Tyra was no longer watching the scene. She didn’t have to; she was reliving it. Her body dropped onto the table with a thump, her hand shot straight to her pussy.

    Boochie began to flick his tongue around the crabapple-sized head of his uncle’s cock.

    “Watch me work, Brendan,” Tyra said proudly as she rubbed herself to Boochie’s rhythm. “This is how you control a man from your knees.”

    Uncle Jack was straining to pull Boochie’s head forward but even his powerful arms were no match for Boochie’s pit-bull-sized neck.

    “You see how bad the bastard wants to get off? Never give a man what he wants. If you do, you’ll just end up his toilet. No, you give him what he NEEDS! Frustrate him until he’s got to have it more than life itself.”

    “Goddammit! Stop fucking around!” Uncle Jack’s slap resounded with a thunderous clap.

    “Yes, Boochie! He’s just gotta have it!” Tyra’s hand raced back and forth above her clit in a blur. Her pink labia spread before me dripping wet; her smell wafted beneath my nostrils making me rock hard.

    Boochie returned to his knees bruised and bloody but resolute. Again his tongue dance around his uncle’s head. Again his uncle struggled to bring his head forward.

    “Oh ,God!” Tyra shouted before shaking in orgasm. After her breathing returned to normal she returned her attention to Boochie and Uncle Jack.

    “A great blowjob starts between the ears not below the belt,” she said continuing her primer. He’ll do most of the work if you frustrate him enough. Give his imagination time to run wild. Make him believe that if he can just get his cock deep into your warm wet mouth, he’ll cum hard enough to flood the room. But you gotta sell it.”

    Uncle Jack raised his hand to strike Boochie again, but before he could bring his hand down, Boochie took him deep into his throat.

    “Oh!” Tyra exclaimed loudly. “He didn’t see that coming. Look at the old fart shake. He can barely keep his feet.”

    Boochie quickly pulled away, coughing heavily. Tyra laughed uproariously. “You see what we just did? We sucked him into Paradise, just gave him a little taste, then spat him back out. Now we’re giving him the ‘You-too- big- for- me-daddy’ act. It’s filling him with pride and driving him insane at the same time.”

    “Get back here, faggot!” Uncle Jack commanded, twisting Boochie’s ear.

    “Now, Boochie!” Tyra ordered. “Rock his fuckin’ world.”

    Boochie sucked his uncles’ cock in deep again, only this time working him eagerly, kneading him like dough, loudly slurping and sucking all the will out of his uncle.

    “Oh, my God, Branden, how this takes me back,” Tyra said returning her hand to her pussy, really abusing it. “That fat fuck’s cock felt so good throbbing on my tongue; pounding the back of my throat. Tyra quickly had her second orgasm. It took all the restraint I had not to jump between her thighs. The smell of her pussy was making me dizzy.

    After her breathing returned to normal, she said,“Look at that, Brendan. Have you ever seen anything more ridiculous?”

    Uncle Jack was hunched over, mouth agape, balancing himself on the balls of his feet while he frantically pumped Boochie’s mouth.

    “He looks like a dancing bear,” she added, snickering.

    “Bless be the saints!” he shouted, exploding in Boochie’s mouth. The blowback gushed from the corners of Boochie's mouth in torrents.

    “Amen, brother!” Tyra exclaimed, seconding the emotion.

    “Lick it up good, Boochie,” Tyra said in a stage whisper. “Make him believe you love the taste of his spunk.”

    Boochie complied, eagerly lapping it up in gobs until Uncle Jack’s meaty fist came down mightily, catching him near his ear.

    “You’re a disgrace,” he said before straightening his soiled uniform and hurrying out of the room.

    “Don’t worry, Boochie,” Tyra cooed. He loved it. And he hated loving it. He’ll be back. And he’ll keep coming back until he’s our bitch. Brendan, they’re baaack.”

    The detectives reentered the room looking none too happy. Good! Now, let’s get this over with so and I can get the hell out of here.

    1. sure4
      sound very familiar this story,
      amazing text, good write this one :)
      sure4, Sep 27, 2018
  4. cyrano

    cyrano Sex Lover

    Apr 27, 2014

    “’Your arrest record checks out, Brendan,” Det. White said dropping a manila folder on the table.

    “So, I can go now?”

    “You’re not off the hook yet, cum stain!” Det. Raymond shouted, slamming his palms on the table again. You may not have been there to do the deed, but you set it up. That makes you just as guilty.”

    “Give your pals up, Brendan,” Det. White said. Give them up now while you still have some bargaining power. If we find out on our own, you’re going down with them.”

    “I had no part in this.”

    “Brendan, you knew where the keys were. You knew the security code, and you had five crisp one-hundred dollar bills on you. We caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.”

    “What happened, mutt?” Det. Raymond spat out. “The old man befriended you; gave you odd jobs to put a little money in your pocket? And this is how you repay him?!” This was more than just a bad-cop routine. This guy really hated my guts.

    “How did you know about the keys and the code, Brendan?” Det. White asked calmly.

    “It’s complicated.”

    “Well, you better simplify it in a hurry, you piece of shit!” Det. Raymond snapped. We’re through fuckin’ around here!”

    This should be good,” Tyrla purred, leaning in the corner with her arms and legs crossed, lightly tapping her thigh with her riding crop.

    “I died when I was eight years old,” I began, dreading having to repeat this story to yet another cop. “I was clinically dead for fifteen minutes. You can look it up; I’m in the medical journals. While I was dead, I walked among the Ekhalu, a hybrid race of humans and angels, or aliens, whatever you want to believe. When I came back to life, I could still see them.”

    “Are you trying to tell us you see dead people?” Det. Raymond said, his fingers forming air quotes.

    “They’re not dead. They don’t die. They just move from one body to another. Mr. Park was a host.

    “That still doesn’t tell us how you knew about the keys and code, Brendan.”

    “When Mr. Park died, his walk-in, an Ekhalu named Kiimpu, was ejected from his body. He still has Mr. Park’s memories. He just transferred them to me.”

    “Bullshit!” Det. Raymond was really getting on my nerves. “Sell it to Hollywood, punk. We’re murder-homicide. We don’t deal in fairy tales here.

    “Wait…you said he transferred Mr. Park’s memories to you,” Det. White said leaning forward. So, you know what Mr. Park knows…or knew?”


    “So, then you know who killed him?”


    “Well, out with it, nimrod!” Det. Raymond shouted, loud enough to make my ears ring. “This ain’t a game of Twenty Questions.”

    “I want a deal.” I said, forcefully. “You drop all the charges against me and I walk.”

    “Fuck that! How about we lose your ass in the system ‘til you’re ready to talk? Have the gangbangers in there supply you with a steady diet of dick.”

    “Wanna fuck him up the ass, Brendan?” Tyrla whispered in my ear. “I can make that happen. That would be deliciously ironic, wouldn’t it? C’mon Brendan, let’s stretch his ass good.” She ran her hand along my check before I could pull away.

    “Holy shit! I can feel you!”

    “Alright, Brendan, I’m sure we can work something out – as long as you weren’t involved in any way. So, who killed Mr. Park?”

    “I want a lawyer, and I want this in writing.”

    “Can you believe the balls on this guy?” Det. Raymond said, chuckling.

    “Okay, Brendan. We’ll get you that lawyer.”

    The two left the room again.


    As soon as the detectives left, Tyrla hopped on the table again and aggressively offered herself to me. She swung her legs around to rest her boots on my shoulders, arched her back, and started rubbing her pussy roughly. The smell of or her pussy sent the blood rushing to my dick.

    “Do you know how rare you are? I haven’t been fucked by one of you in over a thousand years.”

    “What do you mean, ‘one of you’? There are more? You know why I’m like this?”

    “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, daddy, just pound mama’s pussy.”

    It was a dangerous proposition. I hadn’t forgotten Zola.


    I ran into Zola – literally – at General Hospital. I still had a lot to learn about walk-ins at the time. I didn’t know that they could roam about without their hosts; I thought she was human. She just stared at me in confusion while I apologized.

    “This way,” she said abruptly, taking my hand. She led me to an unoccupied room and dropped to her knees; blew me on the spot. She left without saying another word. I was grateful for the Penthouse Forum experience but it confused the hell out of me.

    When I got back to my dorm room, she was sitting on my bed.

    “Who are you?” she asked. “How is it you see me, feel me?”

    “I don’t know. How did you get in my room?”

    She was out of her blouse and bra in seconds; her double D’s flopped to the bottom of her rib cage.

    “Wanna fuck some more?”

    “Hell yeah,” I replied with a lump in my throat.

    We fucked like beasts until my first class. Then we fucked again after my last class. From then on we were fucking three or four times a day. My dick stayed sore, and my balls empty.

    Zola was game for it all: tugjobs, blowjobs, footjobs; she took it up the ass, licked my balls and tossed my salad. She was a living breathing fuck doll, a horny teenager’s fantasy. I was in heaven – for about two weeks. She slowly became a living nightmare. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and she would be staring at me, waiting for me to fuck her. She’d stare at me from across the table at lunch, waiting for me to fuck her. I couldn’t even take a shit without her standing there, waiting for me to fuck her.

    It turned out, her host was a quadriplegic. Her need for human contact – any human contact – was driving her insane. My lack of privacy was having the same effect on me. But I just couldn’t shake her. This could have gone on for years had her host not died of a staph infection months later.


    After Zola, I told myself, ”never again.” But this was different. Tyrla had answers – at least she said she did; she could be lying. But I had to roll the dice. I was tired of hiding and living in fear. I had to know what happened to me and why.

    I sank my face into her black bush and lapped away at her pussy.

    “Oooh! I see we have an oral fixation.” Her hands and thighs pinned me into a vice grip as rode my tongue until she shook with spasms.

    “Oh my God, how I’ve missed this!” Time stood still as she drenched my face with a slow grind, alternately grunting and squealing. It was becoming harder to breathe. I was about to tap out when she pulled me up.

    “Enough of that – fuck mama.”

    I shivered as I plunge into the warm wetness of her tight pussy. Her walls clenched and released me in Zen-like rhythm. We moved as one, even our heart beats matched. It was perfect – until she slapped me.

    “I said fuck me! Pound my pussy!” The blow enraged me. I slapped her back and started slamming into her pussy. She just laughed loudly. Her ridicule stoked my anger. I grabbed her by the throat to cut off her air. The rough play seemed to arouse her. Her hip thrusts spurred me on to an even more vigorous pace.

    Adrenaline – and rage – flooded my body. I was getting high off the rush; my heart jack hammered in my chest.

    “Pound it, goddammit!”

    “My chest cavity tightened in pain; I was killing myself but I couldn’t stop. I had an itch I couldn’t quite get to; it was driving me mad.

    Then my heart stopped. Pain fled my body; euphoria rushed in to fill the vacuum. I was weightless, my senses became highly acute. I could feel gravitational waves massage my body. The blood pumping throughout Trya’s pussy vibrated around my dick.

    “Yes!” Tyra shouted. A peace came over me that I never felt in my life. I sobbed uncontrollably as Tyra enveloped me.

    “Stay with me, Brendan. Live on the razor’s edge.” I would have sold her my soul at that point. But she kneed me out of her unexpectedly. My heart came back to life, pumping blood so hard and fast it made me dizzy. “They’re coming back.”

    I rushed to straighten my clothes as I fell into a deep depression. I had been expelled from the womb. I wanted back in no matter the cost.


    The detectives returned with disheveled man in his thirties. Both detectives stopped in their tracks and quizzically looked about the room.

    Tyra, now squatting against the wall, said in a singsong voice, “They can sense it but they can’t smell it,” before flashing me a devilish grin.

    “Brendan, this is Billy Turner with the public defender’s office,” Det. White said. “We’ll leave you two to look over the agreement.” Then both detectives left the room again.

    I asked to see Mr. Turner’s credentials, and then we spent twenty minutes scouring the agreement. I’d been down this road before so I knew what questions to ask. If this hack didn’t have the right answers, he was getting fired.

    “So, we good?” Det. White asked, re-entering the room.

    “Yes,” I replied before signing the document.

    “So, let’s have it,” Det. White said with a sigh.

    “It was his son.”

    “Annngh! Nice try, bug turd. Mr. Park doesn’t have a son.” Det. Raymond needed a dose of his own medicine. And now that I had an officer of the court, Mr. Turner, in the room with me now, I was going to give it to him.

    “He raised his first wife’s son for five years. He never formally adopted him.”

    “What’s his name?”

    “Jay Kim.”

    “Why did Mr. Park’s stepson kill him?” Det. White asked. His expression was blank; I couldn’t read him.

    “Jay regularly chauffeured Mr. Park to the Morongo Casino. On the night of the murder, Mr. Park won twenty thousand dollars. After Jay drove him home, Mr. Park gave him two grand. Jay thought he deserved more. They got into an argument and Jay leveled him with a golf club.”

    “This just keeps getting better,” said Det. Raymond. He turned to Det. White with a smirk. “You’re not buying this horseshit are you?”

    Tyrla started mimicking a blowjob just over Det. Raymond’s left shoulder. “C’mon Brendan, let’s wash his filthy mouth out with cum.”

    A snicker escaped my lips before I could catch myself.

    “Oh, this is funny to you, cocksucker?”

    “No, it’s not that. It’s just that you look ridiculous in pumps, Boochie.”

    “Motherfucker!” His quickness surprised me, and apparently his partner too. He was on me in blink, pummeling my head into the floor. Det. White and Mr. Turner struggled in vain to get him off of me. His knee, bearing his full weight, was in my chest cutting off my air. I was seconds from passing out when…

    “Captain!” Det. White said sharply. Det. Raymond was off me quickly.

    “You okay, son?” A tall brawny man asked in monotone. He filled me with such terror I couldn’t answer.

    This man was a killer; the scariest kind. He killed as a matter of honor and duty. His walk-in, a Roman centurion, had personally killed hundreds and commanded legions that killed thousands more. Blood dripped from his fingertips. The detectives couldn’t see what I was seeing, but I could tell they sensed it. The fear this man summoned came from more than just his rank. Even Tyra bottled her irreverence and practically curtseyed in his presence.

    “Get him out of here,” he commanded. Det. White escorted Det. Raymond out of the room.

    “Captain –“Mr. Turner began before being cut off.

    “He’s going to get charged, counselor. Just fill out your report.” Mr. Turner hurriedly left the room. Tyra quickly followed.

    They left me alone with this killer, death personified.

    I was a dead man.

    • Like Like x 1
    1. sure4
      hot staffff!!!!!!
      sure4, Sep 27, 2018
  5. cyrano

    cyrano Sex Lover

    Apr 27, 2014

    “Let’s go,” The captain commanded. I followed him like a trained puppy through the labyrinthine halls of the police station.

    I had no choice; my lawyer skipped out on me again.

    During the forty-five minutes it took for us to file the police report, and for me to receive medical attention, I learned the captain’s name was Robert Miller.

    We stepped out into the parking lot a couple of hours before sunset. I stood for a moment, admiring the huge ball of orange in a cloudless sky. I took a deep breath of fresh air and let the light breeze wash over me. I couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful day to die – had I a choice.

    “Get in,” he said, unlocking his Impala. Would my executioner read me my offenses before leaving me in a ditch somewhere? I thought about my mother. Would she have a body to identify or would I just end up “missing?”

    We headed west on the freeway; I was expecting us to head east to the desert. As we inched along in rush hour traffic, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him. There was a noble air about him. I could see why men followed him into battle: We all want to be him - fierce, fearless, a man you didn’t fuck with.

    Suddenly, darkness overtook us. We weren’t in a tunnel; this freeway had no tunnel. And it was so dark I couldn’t even see my hand in front of me. Faint screams gradually became louder. Then high noon sunlight temporarily blinded me and a blast of war cries split my eardrums. I was on a battlefield.

    This had never happened before. I wasn’t just watching some walk-in reenact his history. I WAS the walk-in. I was Antonius Chaerea – and I was anything but fearless; I was drunk with fear. The fear raged through my veins like a rapid, heightening my senses. My arms ached from wielding heavy steel through flesh, tendon and bone, and from fending off crushing blows with my shield; my thigh and calf muscles burned from repetitive movement.

    I felt nothing for the men whose dying gasps reverberated up my sword, only a determination not to share their fate. It drove me to fight on even when the battle seemed endless and my muscles felt as if they were going to split open. Then the heat of a thousand suns spit my skull. My brain felt as if it was going to burst from the inside out; razor sharp steel sliced through my hamstring. I fell to the dust with a heavy axe embedded in my skull.

    I was paralyzed but not numb. Every heartbeat carried excruciating pain. My men encircled my body and fought on. I didn’t need their protection; I needed their mercy. Please, Quintus, Titus – anybody – please send me on my way. At least the gods were merciful; the pain faded some as an icy chill crept over my body.

    A chorus of misery followed the battle. The wounded pleaded to the gods for death, but were cruelly ignored. Instead, a flock from hell descended; desperate screams resounded in the valley. The buzzards gorged on their afternoon buffet, pecking and vomiting into open wounds. My stomach churned as I awaited my turn. I entreated the gods with all the strength I had left to take me home before I became the next course.

    A thump on my body told me it was not to be. Fuck the gods, the heartless bastards! The bird smelled of vomit and rotting flesh. I yelled at it in a vain attempt to scare it away. Instead, it waddled up to face, bobbed its ugly head, and then plunged its beak into my eye. My screams joined the chorus in the hellish valley.


    “If you keep eyeballing me, I’m going to pull this car over.” The captain’s voice brought me back to the car.

    “I’m going to throw up,” I warned.

    He grabbed his strobe light off the dashboard and turned on his siren. The sea of cars parted ways as we headed to the freeway shoulder. My vomit came in waves; even when I was empty my body lurched in dry heaves.

    “Are we done?” Captain Miller asked impatiently.

    “I want to go home,” I said.

    “Get in the car!”

    “No! Not unless you're taking me home.” His icy stare made me shiver. I summoned the last ounce of courage I had left and said, ”What are you going to do, kill me?”

    “No. But after I’m through with you you’re going to wish you were dead.”

    He hadn’t come to kill me! I felt light enough to float across the freeway.


    The gate man waved us through and Captain Miller slowly drove us down the long driveway to the “stately” mansion. They were poseurs; they had to be. No one needed to put on such an ornate display unless they had something to prove. I could just imagine the dinner party conversations.

    “Your English garden is to die for, Fifi.”

    “Thank you, Jen. On our last visit to the Baroness Diana’s estate, I was stricken with jealousy walking through her English Garden. I just had to have one myself. Of course, this walkway was taken brick by brick from the late countess Elizabeth’s estate in Tuscany. We bought the villa just for these two-hundred year old cobbled stones. Three popes and two kings have walked on these stones.”

    We were greeted by an English butler – of course. The décor could only be described as hillbilly chic – a hodgepodge of styles pulled from celebrity magazines and Architectural Digest. The occupants couldn’t be more than one generation removed from a trailer park. We were led us to a sitting room decorated in soft pastels. An old woman, tastefully dressed but carrying the old world air of a gypsy, was seated on a loveseat with another senior citizen whose hair was not quite blue. The blue haired lady rose slowly with a look of concern as she eyed my bruises.

    “Robert! What did you do to this young man?”

    “Nothing,” Captain Miller replied, clearly irritated. “He’s fine.”

    “Brendan, my name is Lois.” How did she know my name? “This is madam Zelda.”

    “Let’s get on with this. I have to get back,” Captain Miller said.

    Lois walked over and clutched my belt to steady herself as she and slowly lowered herself to her knees, then unzipped my fly.

    What the fuck?!

    I swatted her hand and stepped back. Captain Miller gripped my arm and whispered, “Don’t move a muscle.”

    Madam Zelda crossed over to squat beside Lois. “He’s waiting for you, Lois,” she said softly.

    Lois reached into my boxers, pulled out my dick and swallowed me hungrily.

    Don’t get hard! Look at her! Her tits are sagging to her knees. Don’t get hard! Look at her! Her age spots are the size of silver dollars. Don’t get hard! Look at Her! She probably has varicose veins – on her tongue. Don’t… get…hard!

    My dick sprang to life. This broad could really suck cock! My dick rolled and rumbled over her tongue; barreled through warm, wet saliva; and then bobbed and jerked against the back of her throat - only to start all over again. Her mouth was a fucking Disney ride.

    “That’s it,” the gypsy gushed excitedly. “Find him!”

    Her enthusiasm was intoxicating. I was no longer fighting her; I was willfully participating, silently praying she wouldn’t stop.

    A beautiful black woman, not quite five-foot tall, entered the room. She had penetrating emerald eyes, an athletic build, mocha colored skin – and she was completely naked! Who the fuck was this?

    “I’m Hemetra,” she replied coyly. She heard me. Aw, hell, not another walk-in! This just wasn’t my day. Wait! Nobody was blowing Captain Miller. This was just for me; they must want my sperm. Don’t give it to them. Don’t cum; don’t cum, dammit!

    “Oh, you’ll cum,” Hemetra assured me. “This truck stop lizard has been blowing men since she was nine.”

    She stepped into the gypsy, and Zelda said excitedly, “He’s waiting for you in the hanging gardens, Lois!”

    She then stepped back out of Zelda and reached over to cup my balls. Her little hands were so soft and warm.

    “Just open yourself up and accept, Lois. Be with him!” Zelda implored. Oh my God! This was an invitation. Lois was agreeing to host a walk-in!

    “Don’t keep a lady waiting, Brendan,” Hemetra said in a sultry voice. I wasn’t; Lois had sucked all the fight out of me. My balls stirred in Hemetra’s soothing palms and seconds later my dick erupted into Lois’ mouth. Hemetra quickly knelt down and blew softly in Lois’ ear. Her eyes widened like saucers before she keeled over on the carpet weeping.

    “I was with him, Zelda!” she exclaimed. “For a brief, glorious moment, I was with him.”

    Hemetra reentered Zelda. “Was his touch familiar? Did you feel this… ageless connection?”

    “Yes, I did! We finally found each other, Zelda!”

    “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!” I shouted, putting my dick back in my pants.

    “Oh, I’m sorry. We’ve been so rude. Help me up Zelda.” Zelda helped Lois to her feet.

    “Let’s take a walk, Brendan,” she said as she walked over to interlock her arm in mine.

    “Want me to send some uniforms, Lois,” Captain Miller said. “He’s a rabbit; he’s gonna run.”

    He was right. I was – the first chance I got.

    “No, Robert. Brendan will stay once I explain things to him. But if he does run, you can always hunt him down and kill him.” She chuckled, before adding, “I’m just kidding, Brendan. We’re all friends here.”

    “Well, Lois, Lola and I should be going,” Zelda said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

    “Hold up, Zelda,” Captain Miller said. “I need to speak with you for a second.”

    “Bye, Zelda,” Lois said as we left the room.


    “I’ve known since I was child that I’m an old soul,” Lois began as we strolled along the hedges of her backyard. “I’ve lived countless lives,” she continued. Aw, not this shit!

    “You’re being hustled, Lois. That gypsy is conning you.”

    “You think I’m some backcountry rube. I didn’t marry into this fortune; I built it – in a man’s world. I’m not some simple-minded fool.”

    “Hi, Lois.” The voice belonged to a stunningly beautiful teenager. She was doe eyed with lips as full as those of Angelina Jolie; her intricately braided waist-length ponytail bobbed along in time to her youthful energy.

    “Hi, Lola. Brendan this is Zelda’s niece, Lola.”

    “Hi, Lola.”

    “Hi.” Her smile could melt butter a block away. I watched her cute little apple bottom dance under her dreadfully unflattering Mumu as she bounded away.

    “She’s off limits, Brendan,” Lois said, playfully slapping my shoulder. “Zelda will have your balls. Look, I know you’d rather be off romping with young fillies like that rather than a decrepit old women like me. But you’ll be well compensated for your hardship - three sessions at a million dollars a session.”


    “Sex, Brendan, if we must be crass about it.”

    “Why, me? I don’t understand.”

    “Don’t play stupid. I’ve done my homework. I’ve spent a small fortune over the last two decades searching for you. You’re rare Brendan – maybe one in a generation.

    “Wow! I know my sperm is to die for but-“

    “Stop that! I won’t be ridiculed by a young punk like you. What do you know about life? You still smell of your mother’s breast milk.”

    “Listen, Lois, you’re right; I am special - just not in the way you think. Zelda’s using me to trick you. There is no such thing as past lives. We get one, that’s it.”

    “I was there, Brendan – in a past life. It wasn’t some peyote dream. It was as real as this moment we’re sharing right now. And sucking your cock guided me there, just like Zelda said it would. Trust me, if she’d been wrong, Captain Miller would be burying you both in the desert right now.”

    The statement made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Thank God Zelda was “right!”

    Lois was dead wrong about this, though, but I empathized with her. Less than an hour ago I too was in a “past life,” fighting an ancient battle I’m not even sure made it into history books. It was real yet it wasn’t. I was Antonius Chaerea, right down to his thoughts and fears, but I was still Brendan. I’ve always been Brendan. I’m sure to Lois that’s just a distinction without a difference. So, it would have been an exercise in futility trying to explain to her that these were Hemetra’s lives she was experiencing, and she was never Hemetra in a past life.

    “You’re damn right! There’s no way this sewer rat could ever be me.”

    Hemetra startled me. Lois never saw Hemetra’s hand knife deep into her abdominal cavity. But she, or some consciousness within her, responded with vicious eye gouges. A no holds barred cat fight ensued. Hemetra ripped, tore, and stretched Lois’ flesh desperately fighting her way inside only to be expelled with equal ferocity. I had no idea “moving in” day was this violent – or this messy. The outcome was never in doubt, though; Hemetra prevailed in her assualt in less than three minutes. Lois was left in a heap on the ground - unmarked, exhausted, and unaware of what just happened.

    “Oh dear, did I just faint?” Lois asked as I reached down to help her up. I didn’t know what to say; she wouldn’t have believed me if I told her the truth. And what was the truth? My brain scrambled to piece it together.

    Zelda…was dead; Lois was now Hemetra’s new host.

    Captain Miller…killed Zelda; that woman couldn’t have died of natural causes so quickly.

    I…was in deep shit; and running was not an option.

    • Like Like x 1
  6. sure4

    sure4 Sex Machine

    Sep 9, 2018
  7. cyrano

    cyrano Sex Lover

    Apr 27, 2014

    My life was still in danger.

    Captain Miller killed Zelda right in Lois’ home, with her daughter less than fifty feet away. Desperation was in the air, and not just on this estate; it was blanketing the city.

    “You’ll be staying here, Brendan,” Lois said, walking me back the house. “I’ve prepared a room for you. My staff will get you anything you need.”

    That was a relief. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with Bonnie and…INSANITY! I’d been so focused on my own survival I hadn’t even considered why I had been encountering so many walk-ins lately. The walk-ins are running out of hosts!

    Without hosts, walk-ins go insane. And their most effective recruiting vehicles – spiritualism and new age religion – have fallen out of favor. The self-absorbed little shits of this generation aren’t interested in quests for “higher planes of existence” or truths from the “world beyond.”

    And birthrates are falling too, so bloodlines – a walk-in’s most valued asset – were drying up. Shrinking bloodlines mean fewer choices. And choices are important. No walk-in wants to be stuck in the wrong gender for decades – unless they are twisted – or to be trapped in the physically or mentally infirmed for that matter.

    All of this made Hemetra’s choice of Lois all the more confusing; especially when Lola was there for the taking. But Hemetra was probably four or five moves ahead of me in this chess match.

    The answer was probably hiding in plain sight. I just couldn’t see it yet.


    Why Lois? The puzzle roiled my brain for half the night. I was still no closer to the answer when I drifted off to sleep. There was a hand on my chest! – a small hand. It belonged to Hemetra.

    “Dreaming about me, lover?” she whispered softly. “I’ve certainly been dreaming about you since you visited us, waiting for you to become a man. I just knew you’d grow up to be the handsome stud you’ve become.”

    “You were there?”

    “Yes, I was one of the ones who voted to send you back?”

    “Why?” I asked. I was testing her.

    “I’m always open and honest with all my friends, lover. Are we friends?”

    She failed the test. I wasn’t making any deals with this bitch.

    “Find yourself another host, Hemetra. Go away.”

    “You have me all wrong, Brendan,” she cooed, slipping under the covers. Her nipples dug into my back; they were hard enough to cut glass. “I’m just lonely.” Her hand slithered toward my crotch. “I know you are too. You no longer fit in this world.”

    “I’m fine, Hemetra. I’d be even better if I didn’t have to deal with you walk-ins.” Her little hands wrapped around my dick, making me feel so big.

    “We’re not your problem, lover. If you knew why we sent you back, you’d see that.” She was applying just the right amount of pressure on my dick as she slowly tugged away.

    “So, just tell me, Hemetra – no more games or bullshit. Just tell me.”

    “But I like games, love. And as you already know, I have way too much time on my hands.” She swallowed my dick whole, massaging it with her tongue and lips in ways I didn’t know were possible.

    “Second sight isn’t the only gift we gave you,” she said as her saliva cooled on my dick. “There is so much more. You have no idea what you’re capable of.”

    Careful Brendan, this one is sly!

    “Go away, Hemetra. And take your head games with you.” I didn’t have much conviction in my voice but it didn’t matter. As long as I never said yes to this bitch or accepted anything from her, I felt I was safe.

    “But you’ll like this game, lover. It only involves your head down here.” She went back to work on my dick.

    Only now it was different; my body was connected. Every trick her mouth performed on my dick was now happening all over my body in a loop. And she kept adding to the loop. I could feel her tongue, teeth, and lips on every inch of my body. I felt her tongue slip into the crack of my ass and along the soles of my feet at the time. I was awash in darkness and saliva. I was getting my dick sucked and I WAS my dick getting sucked.

    “But wait…there’s more,” she said with a wicked cackle. She straddled me and guided me into her pussy – in more ways than one. There was just darkness, wet juices swirling about me, and a hum. Each new pitch brought a different sensation.

    Then she started chanting and the pitch changes picked up in speed until it felt as if a thousand different vibrations were working on my dick – me. A cornucopia of pleasure wrapped me from head to toe, filling my balls until I was in serious pain. I needed a release! But I couldn’t cum.

    “The orgasm of your life awaits you, my love. Just accept it.”

    “Fuck you!”

    “Okay,” she said, hopping off my dick. “Be seeing you, love,” she added, bounding out of the room.

    “Fucking bitch,” I groaned. I grabbed ahold of my dick and pumped furiously for relief. A blast of cum hit me in the face, burning my eyes.



    There was an awkward silence at breakfast the following morning. Lois convinced Lola to stay over; still no word from Madam Zelda. I knew she was dead. I would think Lola would know too since communicating with the dead was part of her job description.

    “She’ll turn up soon, dear,” Lois said, trying to comfort her. Hemetra stepped out of Lois and walked over to Lola and put her lips to her ear.

    “I’m here now, birdie,” Lola replied.

    “Zelda?!” Lois nearly jumped out of her chair.

    “Who else would it be, you old whore? Look, I’m moving on, so I don’t have time to chit chat. Trust Lola; she has the gift. Don’t tell her I’m gone; it’ll only distract her. Finish what you started, Lois.”

    A stunned Lois sat there staring at Lola, expecting more from Zelda.

    “What?” Lola asked. “What’s wrong?”

    “Nothing, dear, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to stare.”

    “Lois, I’m not really hungry. I’m going to go for a walk.”

    “I understand, dear. You go ahead.”

    “Lois, we have to tell her,” I said after Lola left the table.

    “You heard what Madam Zelda said.”

    “Lois, we have to tell her, and we have to file a missing persons report.”

    “Okay. I’ll call Captain Miller.” Was she fucking kidding me? “But leave the girl some hope for the time being.” That’s right Lois; don’t let anything interfere with your “journey.”

    “Morning, nanna.” A tall, strapping teen made an entrance. “Nanna?” There ought to be a law against calling your grandmother “nanna” after the age of six.

    “Brendan, this is my grandson, Kevin. His parents are away on business. Kevin, this is Brendan. He’ll be our guest for a few days.

    “Pleased to meet you.”


    “Pancakes, Kevin?”

    “You know I can’t turn down your pancakes, nanna.” He was lean and muscular. I bet he could eat junk food all day and never gain an ounce. I remember those days – fondly!

    “You an athlete, Kevin?”


    “Don’t be so modest,” Lois interjected, pinching his cheek. My baby is an All- American. Smart too. Going to Yale next year.”

    “I’m keeping my options open, nanna.”

    “Going to Yale,” Lois insisted.

    The kid had everything going for him – fashion model looks; wealthy family; intelligence. We hated pricks like him when I was in school.

    “Lois, I’m going out to the patio.”

    “I’ll join you in a minute, Brendan; we need to talk.


    I needed a quiet place to think. The same question was still burning a hole in my brain. Why did Hemetra choose Lois over Lola? I couldn’t see an advantage. It certainly wasn’t wealth. A woman with Lola’s body and Hemetra’s centuries of seduction experience would have no trouble hooking a wealthy bachelor.

    I definitely didn’t see an advantage in age. A young, fresh, hot, body like Lola’s was too big a prize to turn down for a woman as vain as Hemetra. And Lois’ health was on a downward slope. I just couldn’t see Hemtetra strapping herself in for the next twenty years of that ride.

    It had to be her bloodline.

    Kevin? I couldn’t see Hemetra in a Boochie/Tyrla situation. So, unless Kevin had a hot sister or cousin, I was back to square one. My head hurt.

    “Ooh, a lovely day, isn’t it?” Lois took a seat across from me with a tall glass of ice tea in her hand.

    “Yes, it is.”

    “Brendan, I don’t mean to be indelicate, but just why do I need you? Zelda never explained. I mean, you don’t even believe in time travel.”

    It was a good question. I didn’t have an answer.

    “Lois, I’ve been on one of these “trips” you’re about to take. Maybe that’s why you need me.”

    “So, then you know it’s real.”

    “Yes it’s real but it’s not time travel. Look, there’s no way I can explain this to you until you’ve actually experienced it.”

    “But I have experienced it.”

    “No, you’ve only dipped you toe in it. You’re about to be thrown in at the deep end of the pool.”


    The lawyers and bankers showed up late that afternoon. Like any good whore, I insisted on being paid before each “session.” So, Lois paid for lawyers and bankers to set up a numbered account for me. After some last minute haggling, Lois agreed to pay the taxes too so that the money would be tax free to me.

    After a couple of days of waiting for the stars and planets to align, or whatever gobbledygook Lola was feeding Lois, I was awakened from a sound sleep.

    “It’s time, Brendan,” Lois said, excitedly. She was wearing a white sheer negligee.

    I took some time to gather myself, shake off the sleep. I tried to put on a game face as I headed to her bedroom in just my boxers, but this was unchartered territory for me; I was scared shitless.

    “A little more to the left,” Lola said, arranging Lois on the bed as if she were a doll of hers.

    “Drop,” she said pointing to my boxers. I did as ordered. Then she grabbed me the elbow and positioned me between Lois’ legs.

    “Okay,” she said, satisfied that we were in the right position. “You can start.”

    “Start what?” I asked. Was she serious?

    “Start! We don’t have much time.”

    “That’s not how it works, sweetheart,” Lois said, laughing herself into a coughing fit. “She’s a virgin, Brendan, she doesn’t know. Here, let me help,” she said extending her hand.

    I helped her off the bed and onto her knees. Her mouth worked its magic in no time. I helped her back on the bed and Lois positioned us again.

    “Hurry, Hurry!” said, excitedly.

    Damn, she was pushy. I entered Lois quickly to shut her up. Lois’ pussy was dry but responsive. Half a dozen strokes in, Lola grabbed my hips.

    “No, like this,” she said guiding my rhythm. She chanted something in my ear to help me keep time. I was in that dark tunnel again within seconds as more voices joined the chant. Lois’ pussy became wetter – and tighter! Pussy never felt so good. The darkness cleared to the dimness of torchlight and candlelight. And Lois was not Lois and I DEFINITELY was not me!

    I was a black slave punishing an olive skinned beauty with my horse cock. I had no idea pussy could feel so good. A bigger dick meant more pleasure – for ME!

    “Slow down, Brendan,” Lois pleaded. “You’re hurting me.” Yeah, I was destroying that pussy - and loving it!

    “Are you blind? Does it look like we have control of this? Do I look like Brendon to you?”

    “Oooh!” she exclaimed, as her pussy flooded in lubricant. My pace picked up - well, the slave’s did, but same difference - so did the chanting.

    “Oh my God, Brendan! This is too much. I can’t take any more of this.” The fuck you can’t! Lois was panicking. She was having a hard time reconciling the fact that this wasn’t her pussy being destroyed; she was just feeling the destruction.

    “You’re fine, Lois. Just focus on the chanting. Stop fighting your host. Give yourself over to her and just feel.”

    Soon Lois was humming along with the chanting. I felt hands moving on my body and then the women came into view. One squatted over Lois’ face and thrust her tongue deep into my mouth. I could smell pussy on her face. More hands caressed us and then tongues licked us everywhere.

    The pleasure ran cool, tickling us into giggles and then outright laughter; the pleasure ran warm, soothing and comforting to us; the pleasure ran hot, stoking our aggression as we fought for release. The fire boiled us until we burst through the walls of the building and down a great waterfall in the Amazon. We fucked and screeched like monkeys in the forest. Each orgasm sent us to another wonder on earth: the plains of the Serengeti, Mt. Everest, Kaghan Valley. We fucked until we were all fucked out.

    We were back in the building when it was over as if it had never happened. It was quiet except for the snoring naked bodies around us. I’m pretty sure the structure was a pyramid, but this pyramid would dwarf the Pyramids of Giza. And the walls were not made of stone; it was some gun-metal colored material I couldn’t identify. A statue of a half-man half-bird towered over us two stories tall; this was a temple.

    “I can’t wait to walk the city,” Lois said, bubbling with enthusiasm. Think of all the knowledge we can bring back with us; knowledge that was lost to history; history that we’ve gotten wrong, and not just this life but all my lives. I could dedicate the rest of my life to this.”

    “Lois, three sessions and then I’m out.”

    “I know what I promised, Brendan. Zelda said after three sessions I’ll have the power to do this on my own.”

    It was time to strip Lois’ of any trailer trash fantasies she had of astounding scholars and having high tea with the Queen.

    “Lois can you read the hieroglyphics on the walls?”

    “Well, no.”

    “Do you think everyone will be speaking English as you hopscotch through history?”

    “Well, I can learn the languages.” I could hear the doubt in her voice.

    “Yeah, right.”

    My heart skipped a beat as Kevin walk past.

    “Morning, Brendan.”

    I heard myself say, “What’s up, buddy.” Our lives were continuing in our “absence.” It was unfolding right in front of us – well, me; Lois, apparently couldn’t see it. I picked up the newspaper and a glass of orange juice and headed out to the patio. What I saw in the paper sent me into a full blown panic.

    “Lois, we have to go back.”

    “No, Brandon. Even if I can’t understand anyone, I want to see the city.”

    Was I hallucinating? The statue moved.

    “Lois, this is a temple. We’re never leaving this place.” I heard a gong, and the bodies began to stir.

    It was fucking breathing! The statue was slowly coming to life. I wasn’t going to be here when it did – even if it meant lying to Lois.

    “Lois, Kevin’s in trouble!”


    “Yes, Lois! He needs you. He needs you now! Take us back!”


    When I returned back to my body, I was still seated on the patio reading the paper. I started hyperventilating. I tried to stand but vertigo sent me crashing back into the chair. My head was throbbing.

    Lois came stomping out, yelling.

    “You lied to me! Kevin’s fine.”

    “How long were we gone, Lois?”

    “I don’t know – a few hours. It’s morning, Brendan.”

    “How long were we gone, Lois?” I pushed the paper toward her. “Read the date.” The color drained from her face.

    “That’s right. Ten days. Are you ready to listen to me now?”

    Something was moving on my thigh. It was my dick! Was it black? I had to investigate.

    “Excuse me, Lois.” I left her there staring at the newspaper as I ran to the bathroom.

  8. cyrano

    cyrano Sex Lover

    Apr 27, 2014

    My blood was pumping so fast it was making me dizzy. I prayed a little prayer: “Please be my dick.” Then I slowly unbuttoned my pants and pulled out the fat anaconda. It was mine! But it was the same size as that slave’s. Hemetra told me that the Ekhalu had changed me; she also told me that I didn’t know what I was capable of. She was right. But how did I change the size of my dick?

    I got so excited just holding it, the question lost its importance. I just stroked the heavy organ and admired it in the mirror as it stiffened. I thought about all the pussy I could have beat to hell with the monster I was holding. My hand started getting wet. The smell of pussy wrinkled my nose. Was this how it worked? All had to do was think it? I focused real hard on my last fuck – and I was there!

    I was fucking my landlord in the laundry room. I was pounding her fat ass against the dryer. This wasn’t love; this wasn’t even lust. This was pure fucking disgust – of the situation I was in more than anything else. I was fucking my landlord to keep a roof over my head. I lost my job but I was still making my rent. Still, she could've found a way to evict me if she wanted to. So I fucked her to keep her mind off my unemployment.

    I was plowing her ass good. I wanted to tear something, rip her up, but the rough stuff was just making her wetter. God, I could have used a much bigger dick then. And with just that thought I was back in the bathroom. My landlord’s pussy juices were spraying everywhere as I beat my dick mercilessly. Somehow I was still fucking her while I jerked off. I felt her and smelled her right up to baptizing the wall with a cup of cum.

    Jerking off was never going to be the same!


    I stumbled out of the bathroom trying to make sense out of it all. Feeling my dick run down my leg was going to some getting used to. I was feeling self-conscious about it so I folded it into my crotch. My clothes were sticking to my body from the sticky heat. With my old dick, I would have thought nothing of changing into my swim trunks and taking a dip into the pool. This new dick was going to present a challenge in that regard. I decided to walk over and lounge by the water while I thought it over.

    I had company.

    Lola was doing laps in the pool while Kevin skulked nearby in a pool chair pretending to read. My footfalls startled the amateur.

    “You hit that yet?” I asked.

    “Nah, she’s two years older than I am.” Ahhh, to be young and stupid.

    “What, you not into cougars?” He got a chuckle out of that.

    “No, what I mean is, she probably thinks I’m not old enough for her.”

    The kid seemed confident and aggressive in every other area in his life. I guess his arrested development in this particular area was probably due the all-boys schools he’s been attending.

    “Trust me, Kevin. She wants you. You’ve been stalking her like creep in a raincoat yet she’s swimming half naked in front of you. You need to go over there and knock the bottom out of that pussy.”

    “Shhh! She can hear you.”

    “Want me to help you out, “I said, making a move toward the pool. He grabbed my arm. The kid had one helluva grip.

    “No, I’m okay.”

    “Just trying to help,” I said turning to leave. “I’ll leave you to it then.” I would have loved to stay and make the young stud sweat, but Lola was giving me a hard-on.


    It was too hot to go inside, so I headed back to the patio. Lois was still there - seated now, but still staring at the newspaper.

    She looked up and said, “Have you seen Lola? She needs to explain this.”

    “You can’t trust her, Lois.”

    “No, she’s just new at this. We can make adjustments.”

    “I want you to listen to me, Lois. This is important. We didn’t go back in time; we went back in memory; I saw a documentary once. While this man’s skull was open, doctors touched different parts of his brain with a probe. They touch one part – he’s eating his first ice cream cone; another part – he’s breastfeeding. Now this is the important part, Lois: He wasn’t just remembering this; he was there, experiencing it again. Tears ran down his cheeks as he nursed.”

    “So you’re saying I’m reliving memory?”

    “Yes, we were in a memory; we were never leaving that temple.”

    “So, I’ll just go back in memory to all my past lives – same difference.”

    “You don’t have any past lives! These are Hemetra’s memories.”

    “Who the hell is Hemetra?”

    “She’s the walk-in possessing you.”

    “Ain’t no demon possessing me.”

    “I didn’t say she was a –“

    “I’m a blood washed, sanctified, spirit filled, child of God!” She pointed to her chest. “Ain’t nobody in here but Jesus.”

    “What does Jesus say about time travel, reincarnation, and fucking in temples?”

    “Don’t talk to me!” She stormed away in a huff, mumbling, “Fuckin’ heathen.”

    “I heard that!”


    Lois didn’t speak to me for two days. She would turn around and walk the other way if she saw me coming. But late in the evening that second night she burst into my room – without knocking.

    “I can read them now!” she said pointing to an open book.

    “Read what Lois?”

    “The hieroglyphics – Lola said the language would come back to me and it did. This was a past life of mine. You were wrong!”

    I didn’t see any point in arguing that any further. But the time we lost was another matter.

    “Lois, while we were gone we had no accounting for time. We could have died here while we were frolicking in that temple there. By the way, how did you bring us back anyway?”

    “Lola said I just have to focus on me or something I need to do.” That was good to know. I was going to try it myself if we went back to that temple.

    “Lois, someone was functioning in your body while you were gone. You have to admit that. And you have no idea what she did in your name.”

    “Lola said it was me. She said, with practice, I’ll be able to function consciously in two time periods at once.

    “You can’t trust Lola! She wanted to leave us in that temple!”

    “You just don’t like the fact that you were wrong, Brendan. This is a big universe; you don’t know everything.”


    There was a feint knock on my door.

    “Come in.” It was Lola. Anger swelled up in me. I no longer saw her as an innocent.

    “It’s time, Brendan.”

    “I’ll be there in a minute.” After she left, I concentrated on the next paragraph of a book I’d been reading. This is what I’d focus on to bring me back. If it worked, I was definitely leaving Lois in that temple.


    “No, No,” Lola said as I prepared to enter Lois. She pushed on the top of my head to get me to kneel.

    “Well it’s about time,” Lois said gleefully, before giggling like a school girl.

    Fuck it; pussy is pussy. I was more than willing to lick Lois into her “past” life – and leave her there!

    This time there was no dark tunnel; no transition at all. We were just there – a huge bedchamber lit by candle light. A tiny hand was pressing the bald head of my host downward.

    “Oh brother, please don’t tease me.” I could understand her; I knew my host’s name. He was Ahmose, next in line to the throne. And the elfin thighs squeezing his head in a vise belong to his sister, HEMETRA! Lois and I were their original bodies. In a weird twist of irony Lois and I were walk-ins and Hemetra and Ahmose were hosts.

    Ahmose fought the resistance of the tiny hands and forced his head up, drawing groans from Hemetra. “You’ve been teasing me all week, knowing how much I’ve hungered for this,” he said. “So, suffer as I’ve suffered.”

    Even in candle light Hemetra looked especially radiant. Jasmine and myrrh seeped from her pores and mingled with the smell of her pussy; it was a heady brew. Ahmose returned to the task at hand, wanting nothing more than to lap her honey pot into the early morning.

    “Oh, brother,” she sighed. Even muffled by her sweaty thighs, the need in her voice was the sweetest music on earth. Ahmose’s tongue flickered about, knowing where to go but fumbling about like a drunk in an alley. It was driving her mad; he was enjoying every sadistic second. She needed to know how close to madness she drove him; she needed to feel the frustration he felt being so close to her and not being able to taste her, feel her, ravage her.

    “Oh, brother, please,” she pleaded earnestly, her muscles strained to the point of exhaustion.

    “You’ve been a bad girl, sister. I will not wait as long again. If I have to take you in front of our mother, I’ll do it – in her dinner dish if necessary.”

    “Oh, silly boy, still you ramble instead of acting when I’m right in front of you. Take me now!”

    “I’ll take you, you evil temptress,” he said plunging into her wet pussy. “I’ll take you now; I’ll take you forever.”

    Their bodies began to levitate. “Brendan how can they do this?” Lois asked incredulously.

    “They’re half angels.” I replied. Why do I even bother? She doesn’t believe me anyway. “Shut up, woman, and let me enjoy this fuck.”

    The heat of their passion accelerated their assent until they passed through the ceiling into the muggy afternoon sky. They burned even more and rose higher until the wind cooled them as they floated like fireflies and fucked with unimaginable intensity.

    “Nanna! “ Ahmose shouted, but it was in Kevin’s voice.

    “Kevin?” Lois answered.

    A thumping from a distance was becoming increasingly loud. A bird was heading towards us; its wings beating the air with ferocity. It was a BIG fucking bird. Its screech filled the heavens. It was that bird-god from the temple! Focus, Brendan, you need to get the fuck out of here!


    It worked!

    I was back on my bed reading. My heart was beating so fast I was finding it hard to breathe.

    “Oh, my God!” I heard Lois shout. I guess that bird scared her back too. Then she just screamed in a pitch so high it gave me the willies. I heard her running down the hall to my room. The door flew open – once again without knocking.

    “My own flesh and blood!” she shouted hysterically, waving a pistol.

    “Lois you’re not making any sense. Put the gun down.” Her face was flush and tears streamed down her face.

    “You’re right, Brendan, she’s a demon! Get out of here while you can.”

    “Lois, just put the gun down and we’ll talk about it.”

    “My sweet baby boy,” she whimpered before shoving the nozzle in her mouth.

    “No, Lois, don’t!” She painted the walls with her bone, blood and flesh. I shouted at the top of my lungs for no other reason than I didn’t know what else to do.

    “Be seeing you, Brendan,” Hemetra said with a smirk and stepped out of Lois’ slumped body.


    Open your mouth the technician ordered. She ran cotton swab along the inside of my cheek.

    “Are you a pro, Brendan?” Det. Williams asked. The technician went about her business, swabbing my hands.

    “Excuse me?”

    “You know, are you a gigolo?”


    “The girl said Mrs. Tate was paying you for sex.” Fucking Lola!

    “She wasn’t paying me for –“ Careful, Brendan, you don’t want to go down this road again.

    “Okay, yeah, she paid me a couple of times.”

    “There you go. Did you molest the kid too?”

    “Of course not.”

    “Make it easy on yourself, son. We will find out. Swab his penis too, Lori. Drop your pants, Brendan.”

    For some reason I was more embarrassed exposing myself to the men working around me than to Lori.

    “Goddamn, son! You licensed to carry a lethal weapon?” The technicians and photographer stopped in their tracks and stared. This was so unprofessional.

    “Lori, take your time, sweetheart. This may be the closest you get to heaven.” The men in the room laughed more out of obligation than the cleverness of the remark.

    “Asshole,” Lori, muttered under her breath.

    “Miller, what are you doing in our backyard?” I turned to see Capt. Miller filling the doorway.

    “I’m a friend of the family. Can I talk to the kid?”

    “Hell no. I haven’t questioned him yet. I’m waiting for his parents to get here.”

    “I’m not going to question him, Gary. I just think he needs to see a familiar face right now.”

    “Yeah, I guess it’s alright. Lot of good it’ll do. The kid’s probably fucked for life.”


    After questioning, I gathered my belongings and decided I’d wait outside for my taxi; I needed a breath of fresh air. As I passed the salon, Hemetra smiled at me. Lola was her host now. Capt. Miller had his arm around Kevin, comforting him. They could have been father and son. Shit! That was the missing piece of the puzzle.

    Capt. Miller wanted the kid. Hemetra used Lois to gain access to her bloodline. Antonio Chaedea isn’t Capt. Miller’s walk-in; he was just a former host. Capt. Miller’s walk-in is Hemetras’ brother, Ahmose. This really was about a love affair transcending centuries. An affair the two will now resume as Kevin and Lola.

    What my part is in the bigger picture was still a mystery. They’ve obviously been trying to educate me or train me for something. But I no longer gave a fuck? I decided to take Lois’ advice and get the hell out of Dodge.

    “Were to?” The driver asked.

    “The Biltmore.” Hell, I can afford it. And from there, some place warm and free of fucking walk-ins. The South Pacific had a nice ring to it.