Collaborative sex stories let us write the plot together
(Her Secret Fantasy, continued by SamF...)
You get another email every month, almost like clockwork, showing your ex-girlfriend getting fucked by lots of different guys, and also women. You can’t help yourself, this does turn you on. You still love her, she is very sexy, and these are very sexy videos, better than any porn could ever hope to be.
But then, one month, it’s different. The video isn’t in a dimly lit garage or warehouse or whatever. It’s out on a street, at night. You can see Rachel walking by a lamp post and you can tell someone is recording her, presumably from across the street. They zoom in, and she is leaning against the lamp post, with a cigarette between her lips. She had quit while she was with you, you guess she’s picked the habit back up again. Shame, she had been so proud of having quit. She wears plateau high heels, fishnet stockings, a micro-skirt and a bikini top. You see in her other hand a tiny purse. Rachel’s make up looks very thick and extreme.
Anyway, soon you find something else to focus on. A guy walks up to her and they start talking. You can’t really hear what they’re saying, but from the gestures, her dress, the neighborhood, and the fact they’re walking together towards a brothel room, you can figure out she is now working as a prostitute.
The scene cuts and she is in the brothel room. He is pounding her. You can see some nipple piercings sparkling on her tits. The ‘john’ you saw her talking to on the street a moment ago — you watch him fucking your ex-girlfriend, who you sold into this lifestyle.
Eventually he is done, and he leaves. Rachel gets up and you can see a trail of their combined juices running down her leg as she stretches. She then turns to the camera and talks to it.
“Ross, Master said he is gonna be sending you this video. I am working as a prostitute for him now. I love it! I get to fuck so many people, like I always wanted! I was so scared to tell you for so long, I didn’t want you to think I didn’t love you, or didn’t want you, or that you weren’t enough for me or whatever… I love you, Ross. I will never forget you. But I wanted this so badly. I’m sorry. Come meet me. I’m at Bates street in the brothel on Fridays and on the Sundays I work the glory hole — any other day I am on the street. Please come fuck me… I need you… I love you…”
With that she stands up and you can see a tramp stamp on her butt.
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