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By Corvidae
The Winner

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How Long
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By Elliot DeLocke
Getting Help

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So Much Better

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A Nice Pair
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Sandy Hurts and Loves It
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By Lesly Sloan
Heads or Tails

By Mike Kimera
Burger Queen
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Fucking Money
Happy Hour

Deus ex Machina
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By Nick Nicholson
The Bathroom Mirror

Getting Help

by Elliot DeLocke


erotic fictionTonight, my wife takes five different cocks inside her, and I love her for it.

The first cock is mine – modest but wielded well, familiar after five years. I slide it inside and take her with long, careful strokes. We come together.

I am spent. But she is not. She is just warming up.

So she spreads her legs to invite the others in.

The second cock is thicker than mine, a mottled, vein-lined beast. I watch it stretch her pussy and make her cry out. Her orgasm comes with tears.

The third cock is shorter, wider, plug-like. She comes by grinding against it hard, rolling it around the fleshy interior of her cunt.

She fucks a fourth cock, this one dark and smooth and long. She’s tired – she leans back and lets this one impale her until orgasm.

I marvel at her stamina. I love to see her come over and over.

I can tell she wants a fifth tonight. We exchange a glance, and without a word, agree it to be so.

Five cocks, I think. One for each year of our marriage.

For five years, she suffered one orgasm a night, maybe two, all that my own penis – with its modest length and hair-trigger sensitivity – could provide. It was never enough for her, but she tolerated my inadequacies for five years. That’s how long it took before she told me she needed more.

It hurt and saddened me. And then I realized what she had gone through, and what she needed, and saw that I had to let her have it, no matter what. She’d spent five years waiting; I promised to spend five times that giving.

So now, when she’s lustful and wanting, she takes two or three at least. Tonight it’s five. And I watch happily as the fifth cock, wide and long, fills her, and she gasps and begs and spasms.

The cock pleasures her as mine never could. She comes beautifully, sore and satisfied.

She pulls it and we kiss. She’s done for tonight, so I unhook the strap-on harness and let it fall away. I lie next to her.

“You’re perfect...” she whispers.

Not really. I just know when I need a little help.

© 2012 Elliot DeLocke. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Elliot DeLocke was born in small town Australia and raised in big city Southeast Asia. Having spent so much time abroad, he has since returned to Australia. He works in local government by day and writes by night. He's interested in fantasy and horror, feminism and history, politics and poetry, and how human sexuality connects it all together. He's battled wildfires and insomnia to be here, and feels very grateful to have the chance to share his stories.


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