Hetero Sex Stories

Bless me Father, for I have sinned

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned....." Awakening. The priest had heard the door shut quietly and settled into a comfortable position, ready to hear the usual liturgy of minor transgressions that would be forgiven with his scale of "Hail Mary's" by way of absolution. Twenty minutes later, and having received an education in the emergence of one of his parishioners from drudge to the exalted woman she now was.


Buffy is from the upper classes of the UK. She has very definite ideas about what it is she wants to do on film. My dotage was not so far advanced that I couldn't get the old boy to polish up quite nicely into some semblance of erectile muscle and throbbing gristle. Occasionally, he would even put out for me and eject a thin stream of jism, but it needed the stimulant of my past life to get him going these days. As had become a habit of mine, I had been reviewing some of the old footage of films we had made. Robbie was long gone now; the abuse of narcotics and booze had caught up with him. But, we made some films all right!

Cabury in service

Jenny dangled her unadorned legs over the edge of the bed, her slippers had fallen off and landed on the carpeted floor, silently, one across the other. Her thoughts raced and anticipation mounted with each thump of her heart, as it quickened and hammered faster in her chest. It wasn't her first time with her lover, but she had decided that, this time, she wanted to take it to the next level and a Friday night would give her ample time to recover, if she needed it. Just the thought of her long-term lover and the experience of him, caused her to breathe a little more rapidly and her pulse to quicken.


D'Oh! Jon sat on the park bench, lost in a world that included only the limits of his peripheral vision. His thoughts centred on nothing, just enjoyment of the warm summer sun that beat down to gently brown off the grass in Hyde Park. His bottle of mineral water became tepid, giving off a vapour, filling the plastic container so that it bulged slightly. Egg mayonnaise sandwiches fried in their wrapper destined not to be eaten, at least, not by Jon. Perhaps an enterprising crow or homeless person might liberate them from the trashcan sometime later. He looked up, casually observing the other frequenters enjoying the Mediterranean like warmth that had enveloped London recently.

First experience

First experience. I thought I would share our experience with you. Please let me know what you think. Our introduction to bestiality came about purely accidentally. As these things often happen, until it occurred, I had never given a thought to including an animal in sex play, but when it presented its self, the result was to be life changing. We had been married for some time. Two children were the result of some inept sexual excursions with my wife. We had only really discovered the pleasure of each other's bodies once the kids were born and we decided that two was enough.

Fortunes of war

Packed earth crunched beneath her hands and knees. Her torn and ravaged body shuddered and continued to leak the cumulative essences of hers and the horse's sexual organs. She stayed quite still, head hanging down and reeling, waiting for sufficient recovery and the strength to return enough so that she could once again stand, once again look up and study the faces of the crowd. Her lover was being led away by his halter. The animal had no more interest in her now that he had fulfilled his need. All that remained of the grey stallion was the semen that trickled from between her ruined lips and the puddle that formed on the floor, to soak into the bare earth.

Game over

Game over. Chris paced the carpet. Driven by the temptation to go back a watch his wife and her lover, but he didn't, knowing that he was most definitely excluded from the action of their bedroom, hearing the squeals of delight, the sighs and sounds of sex coming from the room only a few feet and a couple of doors away from him was pure torment. The television played to its self, unobserved and disregarded as his minds eye played out the visions of what he knew was going on in there. Jacqui's body writhing in its supple way, sweat glistening on her skin as her lover bringing forth another wracking climax from the tongue teasing her swollen clit would be receiving.

Genetic modification

Today was to be the day. All of the tests, the hypotheses and fights with ethical groups had been, either worked out with scenarios considered, probed and prodded, or just discarded. Elaine, or just Laney to her group of friends, was ready. A small thrill of fear and doubt coursed through her, but she pushed it to one side and revelled in the luxury of the no expense spared comfortable room. "Hi Laney, would you like anything?" The mechanical and electronically filtered voice of Trisha came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "Uh...No thanks, I'm fine." Laney lay back on the feather filled sling cushion and idly traced the Aztec pattern of the weave with a fingertip.


We left the relative shade of the peristyle garden with its white marble fountain depicting Venus, a ewer hoisted on her shoulder. The trickling figure stood in the centre of a shallow square pool, surrounded by smooth flag stones and then by a grassed border skirting up to a colonnaded cloister that hemmed the garden in, providing a screen to the outside world. I took her small hand in mine to lead her away from the site of our tryst, to the coolness of the house I had had built in a Roman style. She hesitated as if frightened by the sudden change of light. A gently guiding hand at the small of her back motivated her forward step into the cloister.

Home alone

The world, on the other side of the glass, was suffering; buffeted and sodden. Gales had been lashing for the better part of two days. High winds had whipped the pines into thrashing wands, stripping the remaining pine cones to fall to the ground with little thuds, barely audible above the cacophony of the storm. Black, scudding clouds shrouded the landscape, creating bizarre, moving shadows of dark over dark, blotting out the usual features of the pine forest.