She’s the hero we need, but don’t deserve
In the English language alone, how many words have been created to tell a woman that her desires are improper? Too many to be repeated.
Try this one on for size: Heroic.
Superman was not the original superhero. That designation belongs to the woman who — generations ago — wore the scarlet letter. This brave woman risked it all for pleasure and the pleasure of those who followed in her footsteps.
Tonight, she is outwardly embracing her inner powers. She’s got her eyes lasered in on an innocent bystander. He cannot resist…
Some days, Margaret felt it was a blessing that the world’s only other survivors were two strapping men that had stumbled into her forgotten valley. Other days, the men made it feel like a curse.
Marc arrived first. He stumbled down the dirt road to her house close to death from dehydration. Margaret almost shot him, thinking he was a roamer. But she didn’t see any fog in his beautiful brown eyes.
Winter was even darker with the cancellation of the Hotwife Hustle. The former organizers of the devious race toiled in despair until a kind of collective lightbulb started to flicker — necessity is the MILF of all invention.
It must have been all those GoPros gifted over the holidays. You could almost see the moment it dawned on those scheming husbands: why, a camera strapped to the head can go almost anywhere, capture almost anything.
Judging from the initial reaction on various OnlyFans pages set up by past runners, the husbands knew there would be intense interest in another racy…
Hayli had moved to town right as the lockdowns were starting. She felt like she’d lived a lifetime in her high-rise condo but she was still just a stranger.
A nearby bowling alley was one of the first social establishments to open up, and Hayli was intrigued when she was heard about “Chicks Can Roll” night. She could use some girlfriends in her life, she thought.
It wasn’t the ideal time to open a bowling alley. The public’s reticence was understandable. …
She’s ready to deliver something sweet
No one seems to appreciate a tall, creamy glass of milk anymore. Milk comes in every variety you can think of: no-fat, low-fat, lactose-free, and don’t get me started on that almond shit. Me, I want it straight from the source.
Sometimes, I keep myself awake in bed before my Monday morning delivery of fresh milk. It’s that thick creamy splendor that gets delivered to my door from a local cooperative. The hum of the V-6 engine lets me know that my dairy delight is on the way.
Beth was fetching the milk from…
When Ginny woke up, the couch below her was cold and wet. Alice was still with her, smoking a cigarette and drinking more wine as she nervously twirled a finger through her hair.
Ginny’s body felt torn up inside but she found the strength to sit up. Her dress was still drooped over her breasts. She slowly slid the straps over her shoulders and put on her glasses.
“Are you feeling different?” asked Alice.
“I had this bad dream that I was pulled apart into a million different pieces. But now it feels real. …
On the trip to the penthouse, Ginny had a sinking feeling she had made a mistake. A well-guarded luxury hotel with a fleet of generators and plenty of fuel sounded too good to be true. Ginny thought it must be a placebo, just like the pill she took to accept her invitation to the penthouse (read Issue №6).
She was trailing three security escorts, and one of the guards, Aaron, was listing off his favorite parts about the penthouse. “Hot water, electricity, booze, music,” he said. “And that’s not even the best part.”
Liz stared him down and he shut…
Maddy arrived at Camp Grimes in a pickup trip. A boisterous crowd surrounded the vehicle, forcing her to climb out of the back window. She stood up in the cargo bed and was met with adulation.
“It’s so good to be home!” Maddy yelled.
Her voice was drowned out by cheers.
“I’m happy to report that I just got back from seeing the General.”
“Booooooooooooohh,” the crowd responded.
“No, no, it’s OK,” said Maddy. “Right about now, he’s starting to get a little warm. I think he might be coming down with a little case of the Roamers.”
There was never a moment Ginny didn’t feel like she was being watched. As she scoured the woods for dry branches, she tried not to take her eyes away from her surroundings for more than a few seconds.
She was more worried about militia than roamers. Roamers moved out in the open and weren’t loaded up with AR-15s.
I got a notification that my following at Junkérotique hit 100 followers this weekend. One thought came to my mind. That’s like 100 people I can talk to directly.
Truth is, I don’t post tons of content to Junkérotique. There are lots of places you can find me (I’ll get to that), but I felt like I owed you all a posting for my centennial of followers.
What I wanted to do is compare notes on what we’re all doing to stay perv during the pandemic. Don’t be shy in responding. There’s no such thing as social distancing on Medium!