I had been reading stories in Literotica for years. I have a healthy libido and enjoy fantasizing along with the stories I read. It was a lot of fun.
I had also written quite a few stories for my enjoyment. I had a many-part series about a man with a wife and stepdaughter. It was extremely detailed and very hot. It was written before “cloud storage” existed for the common man, and a hard drive crash took it away. I was so disheartened that I didn’t start more for a year or so, but I kept reading on Literotica. I liked it.
One day I discovered the Erotic Chat on Literotica. I know it had been there forever but I just didn’t go into it. When I tried the first time it wanted a username and password. Well, I didn’t have one so I set up an account and chose the username YoungTerrence. One of the perks I heard about about was publishing my own stories. I thought, “Hey why not?”
I had created a 13-part series that started with two teenage boys, Tom and Hal, who discovered masturbation together, and then Hal discovered he loved sucking cock. It progressed through a bunch of episodes with Hal’s mother and many other erotic couplings.
Anyway, I started publishing those and I quickly started to gain a following, including some that I chatted with.
Transitioning back to real life, I had a friend, we’ll call her Brooklyn, who was also my wife’s stylist. She became my stylist, mostly because my wife suggested it. Brooklyn is drop-dead gorgeous and always dresses to kill. Tight pants and a top that accentuates her great tits. She is probably in her 40s, married, and has 2 kids. The suggestion that she cut my hair met with absolutely no resistance.
There were many times during our friendship that I tried to flirt with Brooklyn but my attempts were always rebuffed. Not rudely or anything, she just wasn’t biting. I can respect that.
One day she was cutting my hair and we were chatting and she asked what I do on days when the weather kapaklı escort was crappy. I told her I liked to write stories. She said “Really! Tell me about it. Can I read some?”
I said, “Brooklyn I don’t think you would like my stories. They can be quite raunchy.”
Brooklyn said, “Mike, I am not a nun. Let me read your stories.”
I told her they were published in Literotica. I was watching her face in the mirror. Her eyes got big and she blushed. Obviously, she knew what Literotica was. Whether she had ever been there is hard to say, but I suspect that maybe she had at some point because of where the conversation went.
She asked, “Are they published under your name?”
I told her they were not, and gave her the name I published under. She said she wasn’t sure if she would get a chance to look at them but she would try.
I didn’t give it another thought for a few weeks. I kept writing and publishing. I started some new stories, having decided that my first series had run its course. I hate going in there and seeing stories with “Part 35”. Those get boring.
There is one area set aside for authors to check to see if anyone is following, making stories “favorites” and so on. One afternoon I was looking at those stats and I saw a new follower. “StyleB” was the user name. I clicked on it to look at the profile. There was no information, which is not unusual for users who only come in for reading, so I didn’t think much of it.
That user also added my stories to their favorites. Not very often a user adds all my stories to their favorites so I was pretty excited. I wanted to somehow reach that user to thank them, but wasn’t having any luck.
Fast forward a few weeks, and I am in for another haircut. Now typically, my wife and I schedule our cuts the same day so we only have to make the 20-mile trek once. But for whatever reason I was there on my own that day and it was early; right after the salon karabağlar escort opened. There was one other customer in the place and only one other stylist.
So, Brooklyn was cutting my hair, and my efforts to chat with her were going nowhere. Finally, because she is a friend, I asked, “Are you OK Brooklyn?” She stopped cutting my hair and looked at me in the mirror.
“I read your stories, Mike,” she said. I felt myself blush. Uh oh. I didn’t want to put her on the spot, so I said “I told you they were raunchy, my friend. But you did insist on reading. I’m sorry if you didn’t like them.”
She spun the chair around to look at me. “Are you kidding?” she said. “They are some of the most creative, well-written, and erotic stories I’ve ever read.” She looked around a little and said “Does Ann know you write?”
“No! Ann would have a conniption if she knew I was doing that. It’s why I don’t write under my name.”
She said, “Well I’ll never tell her. My husband would have the same conniption if he knew I was reading them.” I smiled, and she smiled back. Without another word about it, we had each other’s secret.
She turned me back around and went back to cutting my hair, and she said, “I started following you, and I’ve added the first 5 to my favorites.” She saw the surprise on my face and laughed.
I said, “Brooklyn, are you StyleB?” and as soon as I said it, it made sense.
Her smile faltered just a little bit and she stopped cutting. She said, “Can you see that?”
“Yes,” I said, “And you are the only follower who has put every story on her favorites list. I’ve been trying to get hold of you to thank you.”
She looked a little nervous. “Brookie don’t worry about it ok. It’s just between us and I am not saying anything.” She seemed a little relieved and went back to cutting.
I was trying to think of a way to ask the next question and finally decided to just ask, “Do you ever get on there karabük escort to chat?”
She stopped cutting again and looked around. She said, “I have not in a very long time. Under a different name. I had a real problem with it for a little while. It was just so hard to stop. I got so caught up in chatting and role-playing that I thought it might ruin my marriage. That’s why Andy can’t ever find out. And all I will ever do on there is read stories. Probably only your stories. OK?”
“Brooklyn, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I promise you I am not going to tell anyone. OK?”
She looked at me for a few seconds, then said, “I appreciate you, Mike. Thank you. Do you have more stories coming in that series?”
“I do. How far have you read? There are thirteen parts, but I think I’ve only published five so far.”
“I’ve read all of those. What happens next?” she asked with a hint of excitement in her voice.
I had to laugh a little, “Brooklyn if I told you that you might not read it. And honestly, from one to the next, I can never remember off the top of my head. I should be posting and publishing in the next couple of days though.” That seemed to satisfy her and she finished cutting my hair.
She got done cutting my hair and took off the cape. I stood up and got my glasses. That’s when she saw it. Talking about the stories and watching her in the mirror had given me a serious hard-on. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice it. She did.
“Oh my, Mike,” she said, averting her eyes. Then she looked back. “I’m sorry. Is that my fault?” she said with a tiny little smirk on her lips.
I said, “Brooklyn, you do that to me every time you cut my hair. This is just the first time you’ve noticed.” And we both laughed a little bit.
“Mike, thank you. I love having a little secret with you. I don’t have many friends I can trust to do that with,” and she gave me a full frontal hug that lasted maybe a little longer than it should have. I got the full benefit of those amazing tits. When she let go, she kissed me. Just a quick, soft touch on the lips. It took me by surprise.
“Holy cow, Brookie. I did not expect that at all,” I said. I paid her and left.
I masturbated in the parking lot.