One Last Night
My name is Nana, I'm forty-two years old, and until last night the most reckless thing I'd done in nineteen years of marriage was switch…
Food play stories, from quick reads to long series. Most food play stories here sit in erotic couplings and fetish. Reads run 14 to 24 minutes. Writers to know: Echo Ink, Delta Corner and Juniper Room. Readers usually start with “Peony Season” and “Comet Light Over Us”. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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My name is Nana, I'm forty-two years old, and until last night the most reckless thing I'd done in nineteen years of marriage was switch…
The directions said take the gravel road past the second cattle grid and keep going until you think you've made a mistake, and that's…
Malik Dawkins was thirty-four years old, and he was watching a woman take his sound booth apart with her bare hands.
I'm forty-two years old and I make wine for a living, which sounds more romantic than it is.
My Saturday had been going exactly the way my Saturdays usually went, I had coffee on the back porch at eight, read half a journal article…
Kimmy, twenty-eight, dispatcher for a construction materials supplier, sat in her car outside the trailhead and thought about cargo.
I've been going to storage auctions for six years now.
My name is Mack, I am sixty-two years old, and I have never once backed down from a contest in my whole life.
Jen had been in the city for exactly three weeks when she climbed the last flight of stairs with two vinyl records under her arm and a bag…
I unlocked the control room door at six forty-five.
I'd been smiling for nine hours straight and my face felt like it was gonna crack.
The parking lot had one truck left in it.
Okay so let me set the scene for you.
I'm thirty-four years old and I sell commercial flooring for a living, which means I have spent the last eleven years of my life in places…
Macy tried the key a third time, mostly because there was nothing left to do, and the lock did the same thing it had done twice already…
I turned twenty-nine in March, which meant I was old enough to know better than to agree to fake-date someone I barely knew, and young…
My sister Gail asked me twice why I said yes to this thing with Jarrod, so I finally wrote it out on paper while the front desk was dead.
The night Vernon left, I did the math on the motel receipt and laughed.
The sign on the building said MIDNIGHT DISPATCH in letters that used to glow blue but now just glowed half blue.
The thing about Towner during leave season is that it empties out in a way that feels personal.
Food play stories, from quick reads to long series.
Some stories are free to read in full, with no account. The rest open with a free preview; members read everything.
Most food play stories take 14 to 24 minutes, and the average is 19. Sort by shortest to start small, or follow a series to get each part as it lands.