Collaborative sex stories let us write the plot together

(Her Secret Fantasy, continued by Anon...)

As Rachel walks out the door she embraces you in a deep kiss, sucking hungrily on your tongue. Sliding her hand down the front of your pants, she leans back to look you in the eyes. “Don’t forget the mask! Thank you soooo much for letting me do this, you’re such a great boyfriend, Ross!” With that she skips out the door leaving you high and dry.

Besides the awkwardness of buying a gimp mask, the rest of the day is a bit of a blur until Rachel gets home.

“Hi honey! I’m home!” chirps your girlfriend. “I bought a nice thick robe for tonight… did you…” she drifts off, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah I did. Was a bit weird. The dude went hard on the upsell. He tried to get me to buy one of those cocksleeves!”

“What? Like a fake pussy? For masturbation?” asks Rachel, a little confused. “You know you can always use mine!”

“Um, no. A fake cock that goes over your dick. To, um make it…”

“Bigger? Lord! You didn’t!” Rachel squeals. “Did you?” she asks, her interest clearly piqued. “That sounds interesting!”

“Ha, that’s a big nope!” you reply, reaching into the brown paper bag and throwing the mask over to Rachel. She immediately rushes to the bedroom, all thoughts of enlarging your penis apparently forgotten for now. By the time you catch up, your girlfriend is already barefoot, wearing the robe, has her hair in a ponytail and is pulling the mask on. It’s a perfect fit.

Unzipping the mouth, Rachel purrs, “Wow! I think this look really works, Ross! It’s femininely house-wifey and totally slutty-kinky. It sends all the right messages!” Bounding out of the room, Rachel continues, “Speaking of messages, I think we should write a note. Just to make sure that everyone knows what I’m there for? Yeah?”

Chasing after your girlfriend you find her sitting at the kitchen table with a sticky-note pad and a pen. Looking over her shoulder, you can’t help but reach inside the robe and grab her boob. Giving it a firm squeeze, you marvel at how it’s the perfect size. It completely fills your hand, with just enough left over. So soft and malleable. As you press your crotch into her back, Rachel pulls your hand away.

“That’s enough mister. Here, how does this sound? I’ll read it out,” she giggles.

“If you’re reading this, then I assume you’re here for a good time. I’d be happy to oblige. It’s my fantasy to have my body sold and used. I want to be treated like the village bicycle. The fee is $100 and you can take me for a ride anywhere for as long as you want.”

“How’s that?” she asks, biting her lip. “Do you think they’ll get the message, Ross? I’m hoping the ‘anywhere’ bit will get their imagination, um, going…”

“Ah, yeah, it will, but what does anywhere-”

But Rachel cuts you off. “Good! Let’s get going! I can’t wait!” She grabs a bottle of rum from the counter and runs towards the front door. You quickly chase after her and bundle her into the car, hoping none of the neighbors see your gimp-mask-wearing girlfriend.

The drive is only about fifteen minutes, but Rachel manages several long swigs of the rum. “Oh god, I’m so nervous!” she babbles between mouthfuls. “What if there’s no one there? What if they don’t want me? Which would be worse? Maybe there’ll be loads and loads of guys? Oh gawd, what if there’s another woman there? I’ll be competing!”

“Rachel, relax,” you comfort her. “Nobody can compete with you. If you want I’ll give her a go, just to check!” You laugh, finding it hard to understand how you came to be comforting your girlfriend about being good enough for a bunch of guys to want to fuck her silly at a dogging hang out. While she’s trapped in the car window, wearing a gimp mask, no less.

You pull into the parking lot entrance.