Thread: One Man's Ongoing Search for Smut (and a bit of story) (MxF)

STARTERS This is where I'll post starters, if I have them ready. Feel free to message me with a response if any strike a chord! And, of course, I'm always willing to work out the details beforehand. AuntNephew See more The sun was just beginning to set as Conner stepped up onto his aunt's front porch. A smile tugged on his lips as his pale blue eyes took in the details of her new home. It was a nice place small, but quaint and warm from the outside. The twenty-two-year-old was excited to see his aunt after all this time. It had been four years since they'd seen each other at his high school graduation, and a lot had changed. Conner had grown a few inches and lost about twenty pounds he wasn't 'fat' in high school, but he'd always had some extra weight on him, enough to combined with having to wear glasses and braces for most of his adolescence diminish his self-esteem. His aunt had always been nice to him, though, always being playfully flirty or teasing to help boost his confidence. Now, though, things were different. What chub he had not gotten rid of had been transformed into muscle, meaning Conner's body was now lean and solid. He had left his hair shaggy and unkempt in high school, but at college he maintained his appearance by cutting it short enough to brush back. His cheeks and chin were covered in deliberate stubble, making him look a few years older than he was. Especially with his thick, black-rimmed glasses that had not changed a bit. He wore a fitted gray v-neck that complimented his torso's muscular curvature and a pair of blue jeans that fell over the brown boots on his feet. On his back was slung a duffel bag, the strap running diagonally across his chest. Conner took a deep breath, grinning, and knocked seven times before ringing the doorbell. It was his signature knock, one he'd used since since childhood he'd been amused by the rhythm he made on the door as a boy and he knew his aunt would know immediately who was at her door. When she had asked him out for the weekend, his heart soared she was his favorite aunt, and it had been too long since he'd spent some time with her. My Girlfriend's Mom See more Conner stepped onto the front porch of the sizable colonial home he had become rather familiar with in recent weeks before knocking on the large wooden door three times and ringing the doorbell once for good measure. He was here to pick up a classmate, who he had also been getting more familiar with in recent weeks, to give her a ride to school. This was her first semester of college, and Conner's third, and they had a history class together on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It started in ten minutes, so he knew they were both going to be late. In his rush to get out of bed, he had forgotten his cell phone at home he was hoping she hadn't gotten another ride, but given how long it was taking to answer the door he feared she might have. Although, if Morgan had already gone to school and her father to work, that would mean that her mother would be the only one home if anybody was. He certainly wouldn't mind seeing her again, especially since the last time he saw her was on the screen of his laptop. He had been Skyping with Morgan when the young woman left to go tend to some chore or another... Then her mother had slipped onto the screen, peeled off a too-tight tank top, and fondled her amazing tits in front of Conner. His jaw had dropped at the time, since he wasn't sure what to do if he typed anything, Morgan would have seen it upon her return. So he just sat there with a big, dopey grin and gave her his rapt attention. The MILF held a finger to her lips, winked at him, and disappeared before her daughter came back. The view still gave Conner goosebumps when he thought about it, and the nineteen-year-old thought about it a lot. He stood there, knocked again, and ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair, pushing it up and away from his pale blue eyes. His lean, toned figure was clad in a tight gray v-neck that accentuated his physique particularly his arms, which he felt most proud of, blue jeans and a pair of brown work boots. He checked his watch a bit nervously and let out a deep breath before shrugging and turning to leave... BrotherSister - Family Photos See more Conner, a young man in his early twenties, ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair as his pale blue eyes scanned the room. He was in his apartment, in the room that served as his home studio. He had his camera on the desk beside his computer, a heavy duty professional photography tool, right next to his video camera. He had set up a white sheet on the opposite end of the room and cleared some space so he could put a chair in front of the backdrop. His sister had contacted him recently, informing him she wanted some pictures done to see if she could get into modeling. She said she'd always been interested in the work, and Conner being the sweet brotherthat he was was all too happy to oblige her desires. Besides, doing some photography work that was tame enough for his family to see would help maintain the illusion that that's all he did Tame photo shoots. In reality, he had done some rather risque work and that was what he was known for in the business circles couldn't have his family knowing about that, though. So all the better that his sister wanted some photos taken. He didn't expect anything too labor intensive, hence the simple backdrop and singular prop. He double checked his camera, lounging about in his home wearing a tight-fitting white v-neck and blue jeans. Being at home, he hadn't seen the need for socks or shoes. His lean, muscular form was fit thanks to plenty of exercise and smart eating habits his work afforded him the luxury of eating well and having plenty of free time. Not that photographing beautiful women in hardly anything was excessively difficult. He smiled to himself, thinking about the last job he had done, then perked up when he heard a knock on the door. He set his camera down, gave the 'studio' a once over to make sure everything was in place, then hurried to the door and opened it with a big grin on his face. Hey, Sis. Find the place okay? BossSecretary MC's name is set, but if you would rather use a different name for YC that is A-OK! I just wrote this using a name as filler See more Derek Bonham , at 35 years old, was one of the richest men in the country. BonTech, his own company, was something he and a few friends had started in their teens. While not having any technical savvy of his own, beyond what was required for a man in his position, he did possess an understanding of good business and management. He had practically single-handedly funded several of his friends' inventions and gizmos and, by the age of 24, their accumulative networth was almost 10,000,000. A decade later, today, the company was worth almost ten times that much. They produced everything from graphics cards to TVs to e-cigarettes and business was a-boomin', even in this economy. Derek had been too busy for a family for practically his entire life this had not stopped him, however, from marrying the girl he'd had a crush on since middle school. Melinda had been the apple of his eye for so long that, after his company had started to take off, he jumped at the chance to be with her. Young, puppy-esque love was what he made of it now they barely spoke at all anymore. She had not worked since leaving high school, but after a couple of years their relationship had soured somewhat. They were amicable, to be sure, but the spark was gone she spent her days hanging out at the house by the pool or with friends drinking wine... Most of their conversations revolved around silly things like house decor or getting a new car. And their love life... Well, that was all but dead. At first, it was because Derek had been too busy to come home most nights. Years later, when the man had tried to make efforts to be more available, Melinda had apparently decided to give up. He had remained faithful to his wife all this time, but it had been over a year since he'd had sex and the frustration was getting to him. And it never got to him more than it had twelve days ago. Athena Rosewood, his new personal assistant, had been interviewed and hired by one of Derek's most trusted advisers. The first time he saw her, Derek practically had to pick his jaw up off the floor. She was gorgeous and everything she wore seemed to accentuate that fact. Her behavior sometimes caught him off guard, although he didn't think it was intentional. Not at first, at least. Her clothes and demeanor were one thing, but the way she kept bending over in front of him and winking when she caught him staring... Well, he may be older than her but he was far from senile. Derek was sitting in his office, chair turned away from his desk, looking out the window. He had an excellent view of the bustling metropolis below, one that he frequently liked to admire. When he heard the bustling just outside, a door flying open and items spilling onto a desk and the fumbling that followed, he knew his PA had just arrived. He glanced at his watch, a simple silver-plated antique piece fastened upon a leather strap that looked quite worn, and smiled to himself. Twelve minutes late yesterday it had been three. His office door flung open and he heard the clacking of her heels as she rushed to his desk, making some excuse about Starbucks. The man turned his chair around without saying a word. He faced her with one arm lying across his lap and the other propped up, supporting his head with his chin in his palm. He kept his poker face on, staring blankly at the wildly attractive young woman standing in front of him. His dark brown hair was swept back and strikingly pale blue eyes worked their way from her head down to her toe, stopping at everywhere of interest in between, and then back up. He wore a suit that looked like it cost as much as Athena made in a year, all black with a white shirt buttoned up and a slim, silk tie closing everything together. He picked up the coffee and lifted it to his lips, lazily lifting his head from his palm. Once he had set the cup back down, he licked his lips and leaned back in his chair, this time lacing his fingers together and laying them in his lap. He looked the younger woman over again, still silent, before straightening up in his chair and scooting up closer to his desk. Thank you, Ms. Rosewood, he responded, ignoring her excuse, and slid a folder from one side of his desk to just in front of him. He looked down at it, opening it up, and began to move some papers around. If you wouldn't mind shutting the door and closing the blinds, there's something I would like to discuss with you. He didn't look up from the folder as he spoke. He knew there was a lot of talk in the office about how strict he was regarding tardiness and professionalism, and he knew that the new girl would probably already be scared just from being late and receiving half-hearted reprimands for the last week and a half. He wanted her to be worried, to see how she would react if she was afraid for her job. She had nothing to worry about, though everyone in the office liked her, found her friendly, and he found her quite efficient when she was here. Still, though, making her think she was about to get fired was a worse punishment than anything else he could think up. The Confidence Boost Because this one is a bit more flexible than the rest, this is just a sample with placeholders. The relationship, age of characters, etc. is all subject to change based on your desires... See more At nineteen years old, Derek White had yet to move out of his parents' house. It wasn't a huge deal, but it made certain things harder to do. Certain things like throwing a party although he had never been one for large crowds, beer pong and great tunes were among his favorite things or having a girl over or, like right now, surfing the web in dire need of something to jerk off to. The young man had carefully listened for his mother, the only other person in the house, and deduced she was busy elsewhere in the abode. He had quietly closed the door and slowly turned the lock into place to avoid making any sudden noises. Now, he sat at his computer wearing a pair of blue boxer briefs and a tight-fitting white v-neck with the volume turned down and eyes darting across the screen. He took such careful measures not because his mother was a super prude who forbade such activities in her home in fact, she was rather chill about most things, but because with his luck she would come in for laundry or straightening up or some other chore that Derek was capable of but rarely did without urging right as things started getting good... And so far he had avoided the awkwardness of his mother walking in on him with his dick in his hand, and he wanted to keep that trend going. Lately, he had been moving away from the videos he liked to watch which mostly consisted of Brazzers Network's MILF channels and found himself surfing sites like Craigslist to look at the 'naughty ads'. Most of them, he noticed, were spam or prostitutes or someone pretending to be prostitutes... But a few were real-live requests from real-live people. The young man liked these, though he never responded to any something about knowing there were others on the internet with the same mindset as himself made him feel a little more normal for enjoying what he did. Shortly after departing Craigslist this morning, however, he found a new site that seemed to have been made just for him Cougar Connections. This site had been set up for women, over the age of 30, to make profiles and meet men of legal age but well beneath their own. After clicking through a few random profiles, Derek had instinctively begun rubbing the thick bulge in his boxer briefs. As his pulse quickened and he put more oomph into his motions, the bulge grew and grew until the soft fabric could no longer contain the throbbing member that ached within. Just as he narrowed the site's search results to his local area, revealing quite a few very sexy older women in his city looking for exactly what he had to offer, he tugged on the slip in his underwear to pull it aside and free his throbbing, aching cock from its confines. Almost immediately he saw a 35-year-old woman, red hair and nice curves, that he giddily scrolled down to see more pictures of. Along the way, however, something completely different caught his eye. What he saw surprised him, and no redheaded distraction could keep him from making sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him. Derek moved the mouse over and clicked on the profile. When the page loaded, his jaw hung slack while he flipped through the photos this apparently horny cougar had posted. He read through her bio, which told her potential suitors why she was here, what she wanted, and how she preferred you get in touch with her. The young man had never thought he'd be so confused, angry, and frustrated all at once... But seeing your married mother's dating profile can do that to you. Especially when you notice it was created just a couple of days ago. And that it has pictures of her that paint her in a light he had never considered.... Derek found himself resisting the urge to jump out of his chair and storm out into the house, demanding an explanation. Didn't he know already? His father had been gone for a week already on one of his business trips... And he had only been back a few days from nearly a month of solid absence. And things had not been good for a while, he reasoned. Still, she was his mother The one who taught him how to act and how to respect and... And this was wrong! He felt that fire rage in his chest once more and thought to rise from his seat with intent. Yet he paused, staring at the photos his mother had posted of herself. On one hand, he could empathize with her... But on the other, he couldn't just let it slide. He needed her to explain herself. But maybe, he realized, confronting her directly, son-to-mother, wasn't the best way to do that... Derek moved both of his hands to the keyboard and began making a dummy profile. He didn't even stop to think about the fact that the whole time he had been deliberating, going through the whirlwind of feelings as he stared at the provocative images of his own mother, his hand had never stopped stroking his large, solid member. He didn't even pause to consider that, with the constant pulsing of its veins and the unceasing throbbing of his hardened flesh, the erection he had now was more intense than any he could recall. A few minutes later, Derek's mother would receive a message from an apparently interested suitor by the name of Thomas Howard Hey! I was looking for someone to talk to... You caught my interest! Let me know if I have yours... The attached picture was new, freshly taken and sent over the website just to strengthen his ruse. He made sure there was nothing identifiable in the background, focusing mostly on the bulge covered by a thin layer of blue fabric. After his message was sent, while waiting to see if he'd get a reply in the next few minutes, he unconsciously went right back to the pictures that had stolen his attention several minutes ago now.... And didn't think twice about his hand returning to tend to his ever-throbbing bulge... Heroes - A Vigilante Team-Up See more This city smells funny, he spoke seemingly into the air as he hopped from rooftop to rooftop toward the rendezvous point he had chosen. It's so... I dunno. Clean. His feet connected with the roof below him at a perfect distance apart before his knees bent and he leaned forward, tucking into a roll and dispersing the impact of what would have been a painful drop even while continuing momentum and moving forward. I think you're just used to smelling our oh-so-pleasant docks with its ever-present musk of fish and sweat. The voice of an older man, one whom the hooded young figure had grown to trust and even admire over their many years together, came in through the flesh-colored earbud he was wearing. Nothing like home, sweet home. He smiled as he vaulted onto an obtruding AC unit and hopped upward onto an overhanging ledge before effortlessly pulling himself up onto the higher rooftop. And it's a lot warmer here than it is back home, too. Why'd you let me come out here with my usual gear ? I don't think hoods are meant for the Midwest. Your potential partner-in-thwarting-crime may agree with you... From what I understand, your wardrobe tastes are rather different . Well, I should hope so, he retorted as he arrived at the arranged meeting place. Nobody else rocks red and blue like yours truly. Indeed... Be careful out there. You're far from your usual hunting grounds and I can't arrange for any ordnance. You have what you came with, and whatever the local talent can provide. Best of luck . Thanks, Bob. I'll buzz you when the meet is over. It only dons on me now that you neglected to send me a picture or description of our local heroine... How will I know it's her when I see her? Other than the fact that it's after midnight and you're on top of a specific, twenty story building? Trust me You'll definitely know . Then, a click as Bob hung up his end of the line. Well, then, the Hunter mumbled to himself as he clicked the ear bud under his hood, closing his end of the line. Now my favorite part. The waiting. Conner hated waiting, especially when he was wearing his favorite suit. His dark hair was swept back to better accommodate his hood and his pale blue eyes were the only visible part of his face beneath it. They peered out over a face mask that covered everything from his nose to his neck. Fingerless gloves adorned his hands he had taken special precautions some time ago to avoid leaving prints behind because his fingertips had to be free to handle the compound bow slung onto his back. His costume consisted of the red and blue deep-hooded top, reinforced blue jeans, and a pair of black-and-brown heavy-duty boots. As the Hunter, he protected his hometown from the baddest of the bad. Most of the time, anyway. Last week, a particularly nasty baddy had beaten him in a duel and escaped the city limits in a and he hated to admit this particularly clever ploy involving multiple decoys and a helicopter. After licking his wounds and playing detective, he tracked the villain to this city... And, thanks to his ever-efficient 'handler' Bob, a meet had been arranged with the as Bob had put it 'local talent'. Bob had assured him that no personal information had been exchanged, other than giving this mystery heroine the alias 'Hunter', but he assured Conner that the woman was trustworthy. Apparently, she did good work here and the current quiet of the big city seemed to back that claim. He found himself getting more and more interested in meeting this new ally. When Worlds Collide - A DC Multiverse Adventure See more Clark Kent , at 24-years-old, was still attending college and working on getting his masters in journalism. He wrote a few articles here and there, but the majority of his income what little there was, at least, came from his job as a part time teacher for Metro High. He only had a couple of classes a few times a week, teaching sophomore-level science and history to juniors. His progress through his own schooling had been somewhat slowed thanks to his extracurricular activities, but he was finally nearing completion of his degree. He had just finished up teaching a history class at the high school and was casually strolling out of the building. Walking down the steps toward the street, he passed a few other faculty members and even students of his own leaving for the day. Greeting all of them with a smile and simple word or nod, Clark made his way through the traffic-ridden intersection. He hadn't made it but halfway to his apartment, choosing to walk the whole way, before his ears were suddenly set on fire. It was a sound he had never heard before like the very air itself had just split. Instinctively, he had covered his ears and hunched over a very human reaction that was, for once, not an oscar-worthy performance. When he looked about, there were a few people who were looking at him funny. Everybody else was straining their eyes to see something behind him, apparently in the distance. Clark turned his head and saw something that made his jaw drop and temporarily kept the brain-stabbing howl from overpowering his senses. The sky above S.T.A.R. Labs was... Well, not the sky anymore. The empty space above the considerably large building seemed to have been torn open, revealing the twisting, chaotic mess of lights and sounds that lay beneath. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before and, judging by the hanging jaws and heart rates that resembled machine gun fire, everybody else felt the same way. That was good. He hated feeling like an alien. Clark gritted his teeth, clenched his fists and, taking a deep breath, he straightened up and took every mental effort he could to block out that noise. It wasn't something he could just make go away, at least not from here and not yet, but he could block it out. He focused on everything else the traffic slowing and stopping and the accidents that were a result people gawking and snapping photos sirens blaring and choppers starting their engines. Metropolis was getting ready for a disaster. When he opened his eyes, he was tense but focused. The rest of the city was suiting up and it was time for him to do the same. He turned away from the tear in the sky and began to jog down the sidewalk, clutching the satchel strung across his chest. Making his way toward a nearby alley, nobody looked twice at the tweed jacket, blue jeans, and thick-rimmed glasses rushing away from a potential catastrophe. Clark paused just after rounding a corner. The alley wasn't but twenty feet away and there was nobody around, but there was a phone booth immediately beside him. It was built for a bit of privacy, only having a panel window with the rest being blocked out. He briefly considered it, but then continued on and into the alley. Maybe if they were bigger on the inside. Once he was sure he was alone in the alley, which thanks to a lot of finely tuned super-senses took all of a second while he was running, he began moving like only he could. The high school history teacher disappeared almost immediately, merely a blur of human shape and primary colors as the tweed suit was removed and secured in the satchel. Beneath it, as it almost always was, a suit of armor from his homeworld. It was an heirloom he had taken by force, along with a fortress of crystal, by another member of his dead race. The General had not gone down easily, but Superman had triumphed then and he would again. He flew off, moving faster than onlookers could perceive, and dropped his bag into one of the many nooks throughout the city where he stored his clothes and such before flying into action. This one was a gargoyle, whose shoulders were angled just so to create a small, hidden space. Moments later, Superman was flying directly into the tear that had, at least, been the plan. Just before his rapid flight reached the portal, he realized he could see far, far into it. Among the chaotic lights and sounds that swirled and twisted within this eldritch tunnel, he could make out a single constant a small orb-like figure hurtling through the void. It was getting closer and closer, heading straight for this opening. He stopped less than a hundred feet away from the tear, watching the rapidly approaching figure. It was just a ball of light, or fire, and it was moving at such a terrible speed he feared the damage it would do if he let it hit the ground. He had no way of knowing what was coming, what its intentions were, and that made dealing with the problem difficult. He knew what to do, so maybe it wasn't that difficult. It was just going to hurt. He watched the UFO carefully, then moved into its path just before it exited the tear. A lot happened in the span of that moment. The object came through the tear and, immediately, created a sonic boom as it blazed toward him. The portal closed with the boom, apparently sealing itself up behind whatever was about to crash into him at speeds that caught him totally off guard. Uh-oh, he muttered to himself as he crossed his arms into an X in front of him. When the object struck him, he felt everything go numb as his vision went momentarily dark. When he regained his composure, he was back down on the street, a sizable crater around him. He groaned, squinting, as he forced himself up. Once he was steady again, he looked around to make sure nobody was hurt. Plenty of folks were snapping photos with their phones and plenty more were running away, suddenly terrified. Police and other emergency responders had started to arrive, and Superman gave them a thumbs-up with a small smile to reassure them. Honestly, he wasn't sure what else to do. What could anyone say, even a flying man, about a literal tear in the sky? Without waiting to see if his utterly impressive reassurance tactic had the dramatic affect on morale that he was oh-so-sure it would, he shot up, up, and away to where the tear had been. Nothing remained in terms of evidence or indication of its origin in fact, if he had not just seen it and been struck by something that flew out of it, he would have questioned the legitimacy of reports about a hole in the sky. Looking around, he scanned for signs of where the UFO might have landed. It hadn't been as big as he thought it was from afar there was definitely some kind of energy trailing off of it and it had been tough . It didn't take long to find the crater in the side of one of S.T.A.R. Labs' taller towers, and the smaller hole where the UFO had landed on the roof of the main building below. He rushed down to see what had just fell upon his city, knowing the last UFO landing had been all kinds of bad news for him and countless others. When he landed he was only a few feet away from the source of all this craziness. What he saw as he got closer was the most jaw-dropping thing he'd seen all day. Uh... Hi?