Steamy Stories Podcast
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Steamy Stories Podcast episodes

  • Perry, The Galactic Penis, part 1
    Perry, The Galactic Penis, part 1Senior student, Ed; gains a strange new friend. by Krosis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Scene 1: The Dream.. or was it? Silence….eternal silence…until it wasn’t. Suddenly, a whistling sound broke through the monotonous, noiseless vacuum of space as the meteoroid entered the atmosphere and became, by definition, a meteor. Now awake, the creature within huddled inside the deepest part of the interstellar rock as the outer surface heated up dramatically from the friction. Down, down, the rock fell, parts of it sloughing off as it became red hot and melted away. It became smaller and smaller, and the creature screamed as it felt its own flesh burn. Then the rock, now only slightly larger than its precious payload, hit the surface of the planet, becoming, by definition, a meteorite, and the creature lost consciousness. It came awake. It didn’t know how long it had been dormant, but the atmosphere of its new home was cool on its skin, very welcome after the scorching it had taken! It was injured, and needed to replenish its biomass. It cast out, sensing for compatible material, and then slithered toward a structure in the distance. “Fuck me, Ed!” Ed Doughtry, 18 years old, had his hot, bubble-bodied blonde classmate Charisma bent over his living room sofa, her round, tanned ass cheeks bouncing as he rammed his hard cock deep into her wet pussy. She was wearing her cheerleading outfit, the skirt flipped up onto her back, and her panties were long gone. Ed knew that this was a dream. With his less-than-handsome looks, skinny frame and small penis, there was no way outside of dreamland that he would be able to even carry on a stimulating conversation with Charisma, much less have sex with her. But he didn’t care…this felt good, and he was going to cum soon! “Cum in my mouth, Ed!” Charisma urged him, and he pulled out. She quickly dropped to her knees and sucked his small but hard cock between her lips. As she started to bob her head on his member, her tongue stimulating the underside, he felt his cum rising. Finally, he grunted his pleasure as his semen splashed into her mouth. Charisma kept sucking his cock, swallowing his seed and making him feel amazing. Munch! “Uh?” Ed looked down. Charisma was chewing on something, and swallowed it down just as he realized that she had taken a bite out of his penis! It hadn’t hurt, so, in shock, he hesitated just a moment too long before she opened her mouth and engulfed the rest of it. “Wait–!” he yelled, but it was too late (munch!). His cock, small as it had been, was now entirely gone, chewed off by his dream girl. But where was the blood? he stupidly wondered as he stumbled back. He looked down between his legs, now also strangely free of pubic hair. Aside from his ball sack, he looked like a Ken doll now! He screamed. He sat up in bed, still screaming. Knock knock! “Eddie?” He heard his mother call from the other side of his bedroom door. Ed shook his head. Of course it had been a dream, but that last part had been deranged! “I’m fine, Mom, I just…” He pulled back his bed sheet to confirm that his cock was just as expected. “…what the fuck!” His door flew open. “What is it, Eddie–?” his mother asked, wide-eyed, and then her gaze fell between his legs. “duh.” Ed wanted to cover himself back up, but he could only stare at what was now between his legs. It was a penis, but not his penis; it was much too large, about 8 inches in length, and it was pale blue! As he watched, the long, half-hard phallus danced in his lap, hypnotically, like a snake. He heard his door close and looked up. His mother was just standing there, staring at the blue penis-snake-thing, her mouth open, her eyes glassy. “Mom?” Then he felt a warmth rush through his body, and his eyes fell to his mother’s chest, noting how the late thirty-seven year old woman’s large breasts pushed out her tight blouse. His gaze fell lower, taking in her round hips and shapely, nylon-clad legs unde
    27 min
  • PreMed Sex Tutoring
    PreMed Sex Tutoring. Her professor teachers her about orgasms, sucking, raw cocks. by FatherMarin. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Unlike most of her professors, Dr. Redding spoke with enthusiasm. He was clearly passionate about the subject material, and enthusiastic about sharing his knowledge with his freshman class. Just how enthusiastic he could be was something she would come to learn in short order. For now, as the professor lectured, her face remained down while she doodled, one hand covering her brow like a visor. It was all she could do to tune him out. That, and the growing wetness between her legs. “As you progress through the program and eventually into your residency, you’ll become accustomed to patients being nervous, or shy, just as you’ll become accustomed to your own nervousness. My advice is to not stress about this process, and to just let things happen naturally. Any questions?” She hadn’t been paying attention to the lecture or the time. Thank god, she thought, her face flush with embarrassment as she rose to leave the class. “Excuse me, would you remain a moment?” She turned to the professor before glancing around as her other classmates filed out of the room. “Me?” she asked. “Yes, if you don’t mind?” “Well, I have work right after this, and it’s getting late…” She looked outside, the sun having nearly set. “I couldn’t help but notice you were distracted today,” Redding said as the last student filed out of the room. This was the last class of the evening, she knew, and soon they would be alone as most of the students left for home or the bar. “Oh. Maybe. Sorry,” she said. “A lot of students find it hard to adjust at the start of the year. I like to make sure they know I’m available and willing to help with anything that comes up, or with any needs that may arise. How have you been adjusting?” Redding walked around around and casually closed the door at the back of the room before returning to his desk at the front, leaning against the front of it and crossing his arms. His slacks seemed to pull taught against his muscular thighs. The bulge in his pants was noticeable. She swallowed, again that wetness between her legs apparent. “Fine. No issues, really. Is there something wrong?” “Not at all. You have a 4.0 this quarter. Normally you’re pretty attentive, but today you hardly looked up once. I thought to check in with you since we’re half-way through the quarter already. How are you finding the material?” They’d been studying reproductive systems, and in truth, much of it was new to her. She’d come from a conservative household and a private Catholic school, and neither had ever taught her anything much about how her own body worked, or sex, or what to do with herself when she’d felt aroused, except that anything outside of marriage–even masturbation–was a sin. It was no wonder that when she began to notice Redding she had a hard time focusing. “It’s…fine,” she said, fidgeting nervously in her chair. She looked up at him, at his broad chest and handsome features–stubbled chin, blue eyes, shaggy hair. He looked like someone from a shampoo commercial. The front of his shirt was tucked casually into his pants, belt slightly askance as he shifted position, ankles uncrossing and crossing again. Suddenly aware that her nipples were pressing prominently against her blouse, she pushed her chest forward, unaware of the motion until she made it. “I don’t have a lot of, um…I mean with the material, I don’t…I haven’t…” she trailed off, catching herself again glancing toward the bulge in his pants before looking quickly away. Was it growing? “You’re a virgin, aren’t you? Not much in the way of sex ed either, I take it?” She gasped, blushed, felt the heat rise quickly in her chest and throat and, yes, between her legs. “Don’t worry,” Redding said, uncrossing his arms and gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned back. “It’s just as I said in class: you have to get used to these things, get comfortable talki
    22 min
  • The Breakfast Club
    The Breakfast Club ,He’s teased and tempted by a woman at breakfast. by rocketskate - listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. He didn’t notice her sit down at first, he was too engrossed in his morning paper. It was his morning routine before work. Always a coffee and quick light bite for breakfast at this cafe. Sometimes he sat inside but in nice weather like today he sat outside in the early morning sunshine. When not reading the paper he just liked to watch people come and go and over the past year he got to recognise the regulars that used the cafe. That’s partly why when he looked up from his newspaper his eyes caught sight of her. He hadn’t seen her before but it wasn’t just because she was new here that drew his gaze towards her it was her look. She was stunning. She sat on a table just across from him, her long dark red hair flowed down over her shoulders. She was tall, elegant and curvy, a classical looking English woman. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and wondered where she had come from. He had a longer look at her as he took another sip of his coffee and noticed her outfit. A classic red flowing dress with white polka dots. It was almost as if she had stepped out of a Forties Hollywood movie with her vintage dress and long flowing perfect red hair and her make up. She looked like one of those people he would see going to a 1940s reenactment but at 8am on a Monday morning this was going to be unlikely. She hadn’t noticed him looking at her yet. For her it was just a morning stop for tea on her way to work in what was a new town for her. She had only just moved here a matter of weeks ago and by chance had seen this quirky little cafe whilst passing by. As for her outfit she loved to dress in a sexy classical vintage style. It suited her look and made her feel sexy. As she sipped her tea and looked around her new surroundings she noticed a man on the opposite table sneaking a brief look at her not once but twice. She smiled to herself at this man trying to look at her. It made her feel attractive and sexy to get some attention especially for someone like her who loved to tease and play a bit of a game. He tried not to make it obvious that he was looking at her but he just could not take his eyes off her. Her green eyes sparkled in the early morning light highlighted by her long eyelashes and dark eye make up. Her lips glistened with her deep red lipstick. He couldn’t help but watch as she bent down to her bag on the floor and pull out a small purse. Were those stockings she was wearing? He was certain that he saw a seam down the back of her tan covered legs when she stretched her leg out. He felt his cock rise and immediately went back to his paper for fear of her catching him looking. She had already noticed him looking at her, it was blatantly obvious that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. That’s why she stretched her leg out further than she needed to. She knew he would look and take notice of her legs. She had slipped a foot briefly out of her one of heels and back in again on purpose. She knew full well that he was wondering if she was wearing stockings or not. The vintage dress she was wearing was made for wearing stockings with and the tan almost nude coloured silk stockings with a black seam accentuated her long legs as well. He couldn’t really concentrate on his newspaper. Other people had looked up and noticed her but had gone back to their breakfast and morning coffees but he just couldn’t help but keep catching a glimpse of her. He looked back at her just as she took a single cigarette out of her purse and placed it between her cherry red lips. She lit it in a classy almost seductive way like she was a Hollywood film star. For reasons he could not quite understand himself he felt even more turned on watching her smoke. He tried to look back at his paper but could not help but be mesmerized by her blowing the smoke out of her mouth and how she left her lipstick on the cigarette when she had
    41 min
  • Coaster Kisses
    Coaster Kisses - Two new acquaintences ride a roller coaster, and sparks fly. by  enri_lowren , Listen to the Podcast  at Steamy Stories. The first thing I remember noticing about her was the trickle of sweat running down her back. It was nearly a hundred degrees out and humid, so it’s not like that was out of the ordinary. She was chatting with her friends in front of me in line while I stood utterly engrossed in the tiny bead as it made its way from the base of her short-cropped purple hair down her spine towards the top of her blouse. Honestly, I was just zoning out, thinking about my friends. They were the ones who had dragged me to this stupid amusement park in the first place, but now they’d wimped out on the biggest, newest rollercoaster, a shining steel beast known, apparently, by the name “Throatpuncher Giga Smash”. Well, I wasn’t about to let a bunch of wet blankets get in the way of my chance to actually have some fun on this trip. If I was paying forty bucks for the privilege of standing in line, slowly dehydrating in heat-warning weather, interspersed by nauseating drops for five minutes–well, the theme park was going to have to earn it. The drip slid another few inches down her tanned skin, over her next vertebrae, finally reaching the band that ran along the top of the blouse. The shirt hung off her smooth, slightly freckled shoulders, and I couldn’t help but think how attractive they looked. I snapped back to myself as the recorded message blared over the intercom announcing the arrival of the next rollercoaster. I looked up ahead, trying to gauge how much of the line would fit on this cart, hoping that we’d all fit on somehow. The line trudged ahead. A bored-looking, acne-spattered teen was scanning bracelets as people piled into the carts. It was looking dangerously full as the line worked its way forwards. Finally, the group ahead of me reached the person with tickets. The worker held up their hand and gestured for them to stop. “Sorry, we only have room for four more. You five will have to wait.” I groaned. The girl’s group of five was just too many to keep me here one cycle longer. A square, well-muscled guy up front of their little group with dark brown skin and dreads turned back. “Look, Kez… you wouldn’t mind if we went ahead? I’m sure another cart will be along in a second, and we’ll wait for you at the end.” The girl I’d been accidentally staring at rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh. “Oh sure, now that you’re ahead of me it’s ok to split up, but on the flume ride you wouldn’t let me go ahead. Yeah, whatever, knock yourselves out. I’ll text you when I’m off.” The other four made noises of appreciation as they pushed through the gate and lined up, but I was already zoning out again, back against the slim metal fencing the loading zone was surrounded with. I was trying to stay in the tiny sliver of shade afforded by the roof of the loading zone by leaning as far back as I could. Behind me, I felt a slight whoosh as the cart shot forward, fully loaded, with a thin scraping sound. I rested my head back, eyes closed, trying to ignore the beads of sweat trickling down from my hairline. “Hey, uh. I don’t mean to be weird, but, do I know you from somewhere?” A pause trailed on for a few seconds until I realized the question had been directed at me. With a jolt, I turned and looked to the remaining girl, now alone at the head of the line. “I don’t think I recognize you, but then I’ve never had a head for faces,” I said with a wry grin. “If the name would help, I usually go by En.” It was only a moment, but I saw her eyes flick up and down, scoping me out. I was a bit taller than her, maybe one or two inches, with a decent (if wiry) build. I was wearing shitty, paint-splattered cargo shorts that showed off my toned calves, with a tank top exposing my already-sunburned shoulders. She wrinkled her nose slightly, thinking. “I feel like I woulda remembered a name like that. Nah, sorry. I was t
    42 min
  • The Spy and the Pilot
    The Spy and the Pilot. A WW2 fantasy: a spy and a pilot take refuge in each other. by PeriodPorn. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Max turned around, still half asleep, pulling my body into the half-moon of his own. We lay on a straw mattress in the loft of a barn that had been taken by the resistance here in rural France, and for modesty’s sake we had retreated to either sides of it; a difficult task, now made more challenging by the pilot’s movements. He took a deep inhale, his face nestled into the back of my neck, and exhaled warm breath onto my tingling skin. Now, with me in his arms, his nightmares were retreating into the dark recess of his subconscious. We had slept beside each other for four nights now. That was how long it had been since we had found each other on a backroad from the border, him separated from his grounded plane and me… well, I had kept myself separate from everything in order to remain undetected. Every night he had been wracked with awful nightmares; this was the first he had touched me in his sleep. I knew that this respite from undoubtedly horrid images should be protected, but an itch inside of me yearned for his hands, now securely fastened at my waist, to animate themselves and explore my body. He had removed his cotton undershirt to sleep better in the heat, and in the dappled moonlight of the barn I could make out the sinews beneath his bare skin. “You hardly know him”, my brain hissed to itself, cannibalistic in it’s determination to stifle the urges. “And he’s not even awake so he doesn’t know what he’s doing”- Yet, I tilted my pelvis back ever so slightly. I sighed, trying to mimic the unintentional sounds of someone asleep. The movement made my body arch back into his groin. His body seemed to instinctively tighten around me, welcoming the way the space between us vanished. I felt small, childlike inside his broad, muscular frame. I tilted my pelvis back yet again, hoping the rhythmic movement might stir some kind of consciousness into his lower half. I moaned, as if I was the one having nightmares now. His arms, once slack against my lithe torso, now stiffened. That might have done it. I continued to keep my eyes shut, gripping my arms tighter against his, as if I were protecting myself. The more I created this fiction, the more real it felt. Hadn’t I been trying to make myself invisible, protecting myself from enemies this whole time? “Natalie?” He whispered, his Scottish vowels thick and low in his hoarse semi-consciousness. I waited a moment, then pretended to rouse myself. I murmured a little. “Natalie,” he said, more gently this time, “I think you’re havin’ a nightmare.” You’re a sneaky bitch, my brain thought- but his arms were so strong, his chest so firm against my back. I hadn’t felt this safe since the start of the war. I was alone then… I had been alone for years. I had used men sexually, of course… but not for my own comfort. Not for my own pleasure. Hadn’t I known from the moment he smiled from beneath his RAF cap that this could be a different kind of ally? “You’re having a bad dream,” he repeated softly, with a tenderness I almost couldn’t bear. As if I’d known him for more than two days. As if the thought of me, my safety, and my unreachable subconscious was of the utmost importance to him. I turned in so I was facing him, curling inwards and tucking my face just below his chin. I would never admit to being frightened by daylight, but in the darkness, I permitted myself this luxury; comfort. I had been frightened for so long, one almost comes to accept it; it was a fear people who did not know wartime would never understand. One of the pilots arms wrapped around my back and scooped me up, the other wrapping underneath my neck to cradle the nape of my hairline. His fingers were coarse unlike mine which were still soft from handling weapons of a slightly different kind: transistor radios. “Shhh,” he whispered sleepily. “It’s alright.” His hand was so big that whil
    24 min
  • Posing Leads To…
    Posing Leads To… Artwork leads to passion for virgin artist. by SoCaliDude. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I’m a 19-year-old sophomore at Pasadena City College where Ron, 24,  graduated a few years earlier. He’s now a junior at CSUF. Ron and I met at a retirement event for our favorite teacher, Joe Keene. I’m a 5-7, average blonde, brown eyes and freckles. Ron is 5 foot 10 with brown hair and green eyes. Folks say I’m shy, but Ron say’s my smile is captivating. while Ron could talk to anyone. His friend Joe suggested that we date, but I wanted friendship to prevent dating “distractions.” I was an art major. Ron is a media major. Later, Ron bumped into me at Nicodel’s, a popular Colorado Boulevard lunch spot across the street from P.C.C. Many of us ate there as our campus cafeteria was awful. As in really awful. Nic’s had great food, was quiet with red brick and plenty of plants. When Ron arrived, I was in a, rear, booth, crying. When he asked why, I told him the guy I hired to pose for my final figure project took my $100 and walked out. “I had to draw him today,, I sobbed. It’s my final project… I am ruined!” “What were you drawing? Why $100?” “Silly boy, it was a figure pose… as in nude…” I explained. “Oh, he said. "I didn’t know… I bet there are plenty of guys, on campus, who will get naked for you…” “Yea, right,” I responded. “They will want something other than $100, and I am, now, broke and I don’t want their STDs. This is a major project. I am in, awful. trouble, here…” “If you need a naked man, and put someone else’s face, I could volunteer if you let me take naked pictures of you for my photo class…” “Seriously?” I said. “Kind of like me posing for Playboy? That is a college girl’s fantasy.” “Seriously…” Ron responded. “My SLR is in my car. I just need some 400 film-for natural light. Do you really want to pose nude?” “I really need this grade… I am not much to look at… Covered with freckles and a hairy bush. I hope I don’t scare you away…” “You won’t scare me. I lost my v-card last year and hairy pussies turn me on..” “I hope you aren’t planning sex,” I admitted. “I’ve never even seen a naked guy and still am a virgin..” We walked to his car, drove to the store-for film, and to my house… “My mom is on the closing crew-at Sears, so we have about six hours of time…” Ron dropped me at her door and parked his Camaro on the street… probly not believing I would see me, naked, within the hour… He knocked on the front door, I shouted, “It’s unlocked, walk in. I am changing into my bathrobe…” He walked in, shut the door behind him, and I greeted him in a plush, white, robe… walked him to our family room, turned around and dropped my robe, revealing my natural pine-cone shaped breasts, covered with freckles and a, very, bushy pussy… He couldn’t help getting rock-hard, and dropped his jogging shorts and briefs and removed his t-shirt, revealing his plush hairy chest and crotch. This nude project was, quickly, moving forward… I, quickly, grabbed my sketchpad, then, told him to stand on the end table, and started to draw him as his cock, shrank in his nervousness. I quickly, started drawing, acting as if he & I wern’t nude… I was just another model-to him… I placed the sketch pad in my lap, covering my bushy pubes. However, my excited nipples pointed directly at him. For the first time, my good friend, was sexually attracting me, causing him to get hard, again. I acted like I didn’t seem to mind, just smiled as I sketched. About an hour, later, I concluded my work, stood up and showed him the final product, having added longer hair and a beard with goatee, to protect his anonymity, walked up, hugged, and French-kissed him, saying, “Thank you for saving my grade.” Ron had me stand next to the curtain, and took a, single, frontal nude, for his side of our deal. He said I was beautiful! As he laid down on the comforter, on the sofa, I gathered up my nerves and gave into some new aroused passion, and shocked him b
    10 min
  • In Heat
    In Heat - A scorching outdoor encounter in the dog days of summer. by TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. You know the worst thing about the Midwest? August. Sure, there are other things. But after three straight weeks of 98 degrees and 90% humidity you don’t really care that Kansas is a thing. You just want out – to escape the stifling grassland; preferably to a place where you don’t need to swim through the steam to reach the next air-conditioned oasis. Where I work we need to maintain a minimum staffing level to fulfill our obligations. So vacation requests are handled on a first come first serve basis. First person to request time off gets first pick of available dates. Usually I get in early, guaranteeing myself at least one week that I want. But by the time I remembered to request this year, my only option for a summer break was the final week in August. Monday and Tuesday were a bust. Too hot to leave the house. I tried Monday morning, heading out to my favorite brunch spot for an omelet. But after burning my hand on the gear shift lever at 10:00 am I decided to pack it in. The weather app promised cooler temperatures mid-to-late-week, so I set about crafting a plan to salvage what was left of my vacation. There’s a state park a few hours north, on the edge of a popular college town. I’d hiked there several times before. It was quiet, with a decent elevation and full tree canopy, and a 15-foot waterfall at the crux of the two longest trails. Temps in the mid-eighties were still warmer than I preferred. But after months of being stuck in a warehouse 10 hours a day, a little time outside seemed…necessary. I texted my friend Natalie, curious if she’d want to tag along. She was fun, outdoorsy, and never seemed too busy for an adventure. And sometimes, if we’d both had a few drinks, you might find her with her head in my lap, cock in her mouth and my fingers slowly circling her clit; agreeing this was a great way to spend an evening. But this time I struck out. I was on my own. I’d have to make the best of it. Every hotel in town was booked for Friday night (damn college football weekend), so I reserved a room for Wednesday and Thursday and headed out after lunch. Two hours and three Interstates later I pulled into a parking lot already half-filled with cars. I intended to drop my bag in the room and lap the short trail before dinner. That plan screeched to halt the moment I shut off the car. Cooler temperatures midweek my ass. It was 90 degrees at 4:15. The air saturated my clothes as I trudged across the pavement, and by the time I arrived at the check-in desk I knew I was done for the day. Cranking up the air in the room I decided to catch up on some streaming shows before heading across the parking lot to a local burger joint for a lite supper. But soon the sun disappeared behind a fortress of darkened clouds. The wind whipped up and the rain poured down in sheets, lashing the windows and transforming the parking lot into a rippling black pond. I watched for a while, checking the weather report to find nothing about precipitation. If Thursday was anything like this…. Eventually the rain stopped, and I headed out for dinner. It was cooler now – high 70s or so, and the squall had dried the air enough for the wind to wick away the water instead of steaming me in a sauna. I picked a seat in the corner of the restaurant patio and settled in for a meal. The dining room filled up quickly. Mostly locals – you could tell by the comfortable clothes and their rapport with the bartenders. But midway through my second beer, three young women rounded the corner from the waiting area, following the hostess to a four-top across the aisle from me beneath the center awning. And they were obviously based somewhere else. Two of them looked similar, (sisters maybe? cousins?) with straight blonde hair and big broad smiles. They dressed like they’d come straight from the yacht club: white shorts, striped navy tees and de
    34 min
  • Young Bride: Given In Marriage
    Young Bride: Given In Marriage.  Cecily is a young woman who will get married. by Lady_Mary. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.  Chapter 1 I grew up in a very conservative family. My father was the boss in the family business, which was created by his father, which was my grandfather. My mother took care of the house and the children, whatever else she wanted to do the approval had to be given by my father. A wife was to be her husband’s adornment and calling card; I, my sisters and brothers were brought up with this motto. Cecily? Father is calling you. I was pulled out of the activity by the voice of one of the brothers, Arthur. I am on my way. I nod as I put my knitting aside. I run it over the fabric of my blue dress a few times to smooth it out and present myself impeccably in front of my father. My father was a traditionalist. Together with our mother they took care of our impeccable dress. Especially the girls. Our dresses, because that was all we could wear, usually reached our ankles or mid-calf. Anything shorter was inappropriate. Tights were also compulsory. My family believed that ladies from good homes should always have them. I nod in respect as I enter my father’s study. He sits in his swivel leather-covered chair, looking as perfect as ever in his suit trousers and white shirt, ironed by my mother. He said in a cordial tone, indicating a chair for me to sit down, then said;  “Mother praises you immensely, you have become a great help to her. I am extremely pleased about that.” “ Thank you, Father. Praise always makes me happy.” I said with a smile. “Therefore,” Father puts the stack of papers aside. “I thought you were mature enough to think about your household”. “My household?”  I repeated in surprise. I felt my face turn white. “This is what awaits every woman. I thought my mother and I had instilled this in you all.” The man walks around the desk and sits on its edge almost beside me so that he can brush his fingertips against my cheeks. “You are our great pride. You will be the same for your husband. Lucky him.” “So… who will it be?” I ask timidly. “You will find out in time. You will like it. Of that I am certain.” Father blinks one eyelid at me. “First the engagement and a few… procedures involved.” “Procedures?” I asked. “Your mother will prepare you. You have nothing to fear. Well… That is all. You may return to your duties, my child.” “Thank you, father.” I bow my head before I leave my father’s office. My preparations for the nuptials began almost immediately… although I did not know to whom I would be married. I also still didn’t know anything about the procedures I was to go through and my father had mentioned them. “The doctor will be with you shortly, lie still, my lady.” The maid instructed me. In fact, there was nothing wrong with me, but it was necessary for the engagement to be announced. That is what mother and one of my brothers said. So I was fulfilling a commitment. I lay in my huge bed, dressed in something like a nightdress, but much shorter than a standard one, for here the linen material ended above my knee. I didn’t wait too long as the door to my room soon opened. I saw a man with blonde hair and at first sight he was two heads taller than me. He placed his brown leather bag on the table that was next to the bed. “Lady Cecily? I’m doctor Mason. I am here to confirm your readiness for the sacrament of marriage. I understand that this is your first examination of this kind, but I assure you that you have nothing to fear.” The young doctor sent me a weak smile. “ At first, I ask you to move down toward the base of the bed and spread your legs.” “What? “ I could not believe what I had just heard. Red was on my cheeks almost immediately. “Lady Cecily. It would be far better for yourself to do it voluntarily. Neither of us wants it to be unpleasant, do we?” he warned. I obediently move down and spread my thighs. I seek solace in looking at the ceiling of my bedr
    24 min
  • An Unexpected Shag
    An Unexpected Shag.  I enjoy an unexpected fuck whilst my wife is asleep upstairs. By Tommy8305. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Gosport Holiday. This is a true story.  I was about 26 at the time, six foot tall, 165lbs, 40-inch chest, 32-inch waste and an 8-inch cock. It might not be that long but it is thick. Playing soccer twice a week at the time, so I was reasonably fit and in good shape! I was on holiday with my new wife of six months touring the south coast of England for a week. Sue, my missis, was 3 years younger. At the time, a mate of mine was in the navy and stationed in Gosport with his wife and two young boys. He was away at sea at the time, but I had known his wife Sarah for many years, when we lived in the same town, so she had invited us to drop in on our travels and stay the night. It was a beautiful, warm day in a long hot summer. We arrived about 5pm, as her boys were having tea. We played outside with them after tea for a couple hours before they went to bed. We had  takeout Chinese for dinner, sharing a bottle of wine. Around 10pm Sue, my missis, said she was tired after a long day and so she decided to go to bed. The boys were doubling up in one room so she could have a small bed and so she went up stairs to settle down. I was to sleep on the downstairs couch, but I was not that tired and neither was Sarah, so we opened another bottle of chilled white and chatted a while. Sarah was a slim, almost skinny girl, 90lbs at most. I had seen her in a bikini a few times and she had a great body with cute, pert 34B breasts. She was around 22 at the time and a dead ringer for porn star Zoe Parker in looks and body. By the time she returned with the bedding, I was down to my boxers and she had changed in to a man’s pajama top. She had only a few of the buttons fastened and it was barely long enough to cover the essentials. As she entered the room she turned the main light off so now the room was bathed in flickering light from some scented candles she had lit earlier. As we started to set up a bed on the couch she kept bending over and flashing herself to me. First her pert little tits, then her tight round buttocks and just a quick flash of a neat blonde shaggy bush. I could feel the blood surging into my cock straight away. ‘What is that Gordon?“ she asked. "It’s a bulge!” was my rather embarrassed reply. “So, what is the difference between Hard and Light?” she asked? 'Dunno.“ I said "You can get to sleep with a light on!” She explained, looking at the bulge. “I reckon you might need a hand getting to sleep tonight.” “A hand would be nice but I would prefer something hot and wet.” “What, like a cup of tea?” She teased. “No, I was hoping for something like whatever it is you are hiding under that blonde bush you kept flashing whilst you were making up the bed.” Oh, so you noticed then? You bet I did! “So I am the cause of the bulge then? Well in that case let me see what is causing it.” “I can show you but then we will have a problem!” “What sort of problem?” she asked. “Well, if I get him out, he is going to expect some action.” I explained. “What sort of action are we talking about?” “Well preferably pussy action, but a BJ at least!” “Oh, I am sure we can sort something out, as long as we are quiet.” Reminding us both that Sue was just upstairs. “Well if you are sure.” I replied. “But I don’t want you reneging on the deal if I do!” And with that I slid the thumbs of both hands into the waistband of my boxers on both hips and slowly started to push them down. As I did so, first the thick dark hair came in to view, followed by the thick base of my cock and then inch by inch the long shaft until finally the big, swollen head was released to spring out in front of me. “Christ, it’s big! Bigger than Jim’s” she gasped “And it is not even fully hard yet!” As it had just been released from its prison, my cock was not yet fully erect, it was bent over like a banana, the big head drooping at the en
    26 min
  • Tribe: Part One
    Tribe: Part One.Hardcore sex in the Jungle. by Tommy8305. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. A tribe of scantily glad, statuesque, women are out in the jungle hunting cock! Unlike other local tribes the warriors are white with the exception of the leader and a couple of the girls who have darker, olive coloured skin. Having lured him into a trap they snare a Tarzan like figure. He is dressed in just a loincloth, is really well built and muscular. It takes 4 or 5 of the warriors to wrestle him to the ground. As he is pinned to the floor a couple of the girls are already grabbing the front of his loincloth, checking out his equipment! Once they have him tied up they march him back to their camp, which is in a small clearing in the jungle and as night falls it is time for fun by the campfire! They are keen to assess his ‘potential’ so they have him standing with his hands tied behind his back around a large wooden pole driven into the ground, in the open space in the centre of the village. The prisoner is at one side of the space and the Queen of the tribe’s 'throne’ is on the other side of the space, directly opposite the prisoner. The scantily clad warriors are sat around in a semi circle fanning out from the throne. The space is illuminated by a number of small fires burning around the perimeter. Their light creates an eerie yet warm glow. The Queen walks slowly into the circle and goes across to the throne. Laya is stunning; she’s a tall, athletic type, with long legs and slender thighs that are topped by a short animal-skin skirt. Her long dark hair is tied back in a tail. She is buxom and her top barely contains her ample breasts. Either the cool night air or the anticipation of what might be to come has made her nipples hard and push up against the soft material of her top. She sits down and crosses her legs showing off her slender thighs. She stares at Tarzan’s loincloth wondering whether what lies beneath will please or disappoint. Tarzan stares back wondering whether he will get to feel those thighs around his waist whilst he pleasures her pussy! He feels the blood start to surge into his cock. A short command from Laya brings Tarzan back to his senses and causes one of the olive skinned warriors to rise up from the her position in the semi circle and move toward Tarzan. Ona is slightly shorter than most of the other warriors. Nonetheless she has ample breasts and long dark hair like Laya. As she stands a few feet away she stares into Tarzan’s eyes as she takes off her short, little skirt. Then in just an animal skin, bikini like outfit she starts a slow, erotic dance as the tribe start to clap and chant rhythmically! As she gyrates around in front of him she slides her hands up and down her body, occasionally stroking her ample breasts through her taught little top. At other times she runs her long slender fingers across the front of her knickers provocatively. It is not long then before the warriors see the first signs of a bulge in the front of Tarzan’s loincloth. Encouraged by his response, Ona slowly removes her top and her ample breasts spill out. Her nipples are long and hard and the dark circles around the base are so swollen they distort the perfect shape of her tits. As she continues her dance she massages her tits and the long hard nipples poke between her fingers. Now her hands slide down to her hips. Slowly, as she continues to gyrate, she hooks her thumbs into the waist of her knickers and as she slides them down over her slender hips her dark bush is gradually revealed. Despite it being thick and curly, Tarzan can just make out her perfect peach-shaped pussy and can see that her clit is hard and swollen. Instinctively he runs his tongue around his lips as he imagines flicking it across her magic button! She moves towards him thrusting her pussy at the bulge in his loincloth and gyrating against his hardness. Tarzan thrusts his hips at her and they both imagine his cock in her pussy! As she dances u
    16 min

About Steamy Stories Podcast

From the publisher's feed

Explicit short stories of intimacy and passion. The text of each story is included in the episode notes.