Twerverted

Prom Night

Twervert — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 07:28:00 +0000

A horror story written back in 2007 or so.

Silent gasps escaped from Megan’s throat as her boyfriend thrust into her. His grunts were muffled by her soft neck and delicate shoulder. Sweat covered their naked bodies. Long blond hair covered the pillow beneath Megan’s head. She whimpered and moaned as Brian’s penis moved within her. He hadn’t looked that big to her, but he felt enormous inside her virginal cleft. There had been pain, but it was leaving now. A ghost of pleasure began to replace it.

The prom dress Megan had saved for since her eighteenth birthday lay in a heap on the stained chair in the corner. Clouds of orange stuffing vomited from holes torn in the chair’s brown, orange, and yellow upholstery. The pieces of Brian’s tuxedo lay strewn on top of her dress, like a dismembered corpse trying to mimick the actions on the bed.

In even worse shape than the thirty year-old chair, the bed screamed and groaned under the shifting weight of the young couple. It thumped against the wall but there was no one in the next room to hear it. The motel manager was the only other human within miles and he was shut safely in the office, six doors down, obliviously partaking in his own frantic lovemaking. His pumping right hand and the May 1986 issue of Penthouse couldn’t hear the banging of the bed either.

Brian rose up onto his hands as he continued to thrust. Megan felt suddenly and intensely exposed. Her small breasts bounced with the meager force of his hips. The bed thumped, thumped, thumped against the wall, ticking away the moments of her first sexual experience. Moments she would never get back.

His face twisted into an ugly grimace and Megan suddenly became aware of the smell in the room before a strangled grunt burst from Brian’s throat. She could feel with surprising clarity his penis begin to convulse inside her, spilling his seed into her fertile womb. Rotten meat. That’s what the smell was.

Megan lay motionless on the bed, trying to fight back the tears, while her prom date ejaculated into her vagina. His face kept getting more and more ugly as he climaxed.

Finally, his body began to relax. He slipped out of her, breathing heavily, and fished a beer out of the cooler he’d left at the foot of the bed. He stood naked, drinking. His penis was soft now and wet with his own semen. It shone with the flashing red light of the motel sign outside their window. Megan began to cry.

She didn’t want it to happen this way. She lay on her back, legs still spread as the trickle of semen from her dirty-whore hole began to turn pink. She was supposed to find her Prince Charming, and they were supposed to make passionate love in the warm grass of a sunny meadow.

But Megan hadn’t been able to wait. She’d been reading about sex for years, looking at pornographic pictures on the internet, masturbating at least twice a day. Her body had betrayed her dream. Brian had been willing, and her slutty body jumped on the opportunity.

After countless, anonymous minutes, the tears began to subside, and a tingling began to grow stronger in the back of her mind. Pain, embarassment, and shame faded, replaced by confidence and power. It always comes when I need it, she thought with cleansing relief.

Brian was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. He was still drinking the beer. Megan began to think about his little penis, visualizing it in her head; glistening in the intermittent light of the sign, beginning to dry, hanging between his slender thighs, resting atop his spent testicles. She felt the image click in her mind and knew she had it right. It became vivid then, as if someone had turned on an overhead light. The strong, comforting feeling of control swept through her.

Megan imagined Brian growing hard again as she stroked it with her mind. His penis throbbed with each heart beat, the veins delivering more blood than they took. Slowly it began to stand between his legs, longer and thicker. She was caught off guard when a hand closed around the shaft in her mind, but she recovered quickly. Megan could see Brian stroking himself, both in her mind’s eye and in front of her.

“Take me again,” Megan said with a grin. It was just what he wanted to hear. Brian threw back the last of the beer and turned around. His penis was erect, just as it had been in her head. Megan laughed silently to herself. The poor boy had no idea. He mounted her and guided himself back into her warmth. He paid no attention to the small trickle of blood leaking out from between her swollen whore-lips. At that moment, she hated him and every unwholesome urge that he represented in herself.

“Does that feel good?” she asked, lifting her hips to meet his.

“Shit yeah, babe.” His voice was slurred with the effects of the beer. His thrusts were slow and clumsy.

“Fuck me then, Brian. I’m your little whore, aren’t I?” She grimaced with the words. They hurt her to say them, but she knew it was how he felt about her. What he wanted her to say. She was just a pussy to him. She wasn’t his Princess, or even his girlfriend. Just a hole to fill with his immature seed.

“Yeah, you’re a trashy little slut,” he agreed, playing along though he had no idea what the stakes were. His teeth were clenched with intensity. It was arousing him more.

“That’s all I am,” she said, mostly to herself. The admission settled onto her and she embraced it. She was a slutty little whore. That’s all she ever would be.

Being able to see what she wanted to manipulate made it much more easy. Brian was looking down at her, excitement and dominance shining in his eyes as he pistoned his hips. Megan locked the image of his face in her mind and closed her eyes. A half second later, she flexed her mind like she would a muscle.

The spray of blood and brain and bone was warm and slippery. The headless body of her prom date collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the bed with its dead weight. It twitched and flopped like a dead fish. When she opened her eyes, blood was gushing out of the ragged stump of his neck. It felt warm and comforting on her breasts. Filled with relief, her mind flexed again, throwing the convulsing body across the room to crash against the door.

Blood was all over her. Another mental flex and the gore was wiped from her body without a trace. She gathered her prom dress and (flex) moved the corpse out of the way.

The night air was warm on her bare breasts. She threw her dress in the back of Brian’s new convertible and climbed in. The keys were still in the ignition. Megan started the car and threw gravel in a cloud behind her. She hoped it would be enough to cover her past.

Stories For Your Kindle

Twervert — Fri, 07 Jan 2011 16:45:40 +0000

I now have a small collection of my short stories available in .mobi format.

I’m not familiar with the Nook, so I can’t guarantee these will work on that device. Or any other device. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but this is my first foray into the world of e-readers.

For the Kindle, just download the file below and unzip the files into your /Documents folder on your Kindle. That’s it.

Twerverted Collection

Or, if you don’t have a Kindle, you can download the stories in PDF format:
Twerverted Collection (PDF)

“Please Just Fucking FUCK [me] Already!”

Twervert — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 13:14:39 +0000

I found this on Reddit but apparently it originated from Craigslist. The original posting is long gone, I’m sure, but this glorious shot of wisdom still lives on. And I’m posting it here for posterity.

Ladies, what say you? Do you agree with this? Have anything to add?

“Dear Men of Craigslist,

Look, I know you men have it difficult. Women are just about impossible to understand, much less please. In a post-feminist society, you never know exactly what you should be doing. Women are bloody picky, I know we are. It can be scary, too, when women freak out about what appear to be benign issues. And men who do their best to be respectful, female-positive humans, I salute you, I do.

But please, please just fuck me already. Honestly, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I like that you want to take things slow. I can totally get behind the idea of emotional connection, but dearjesusinheaven, FUCK ME. We’ve done dinner and drinks. We’ve gone dancing. We’ve cuddled and watched a movie. I’m wearing a low cut shirt and you’ve been staring at my breasts all night. Goodgodalmighty, get to it and fuck me.

When we get hot and heavy, please take charge. Please, please fuck me. Trust me, I’m not going to just lie still – I’ll get involved. But don’t make me force your hand into my panties. That makes me feel like a rapist. We’ve been kissing for a half hour and your hand keeps grazing my ass. That’s nice, but it’s time to move forward. Get on top of me. Don’t make me get on top right out of the gate and start bobbing up and down on your cock like I’m practicing some crazy new aerobic yoga because YOU won’t go down on me. Roll on top and start dry humping like a good boy should. Don’t gently suck my nipples and then pull back when I moan with pleasure. You being coy is totally not what I want. It’s not what WE want.

OK, I know it’s scary. There are lots of women out there who make fucking really difficult. So, I have compiled some handy tips. Don’t think of this as complaining, or as schadenfreude for the Andrea Dworkins of the world. Just some simple tips, for timid men who have forgotten what it means to fuck like men:

1. Taking charge is not bad. Oh, there will be some women who feel that you are pushy. If you are making out with a woman, and she starts to push back, ask nicely if things are moving too fast. If she says yes, say something like “I’m sorry – you just look so fucking delicious. I’ll go slower.” Otherwise, skillfully move forward. If you start kissing a woman, and she responds well, and before long, you’re both on the floor with her skirt pushed up, and you on top of her, it’s not the time to roll onto your back and start awkwardly stroking the top of her head. Seriously, grow a goddamn pair. YOU’RE the man. Act like one.

2. Ohmyfuckinggod, please learn to respect the clit. It’s different for every woman, so ask what she likes. Do not, I repeat, do not just wiggle your fingers around her pussy like you’re trying to tickle her. Do not drum your fingertips against her vulva like you are impatiently waiting at the Sears Tire Center for your receipt. Do not push the clit like it is a doorbell at some house that you need to get inside of. Start by using all four fingers with firm yet gentle pressure against the outside of her pussy. Do not charge in with a single finger and start jabbing at things. And if you really don’t know what to do, ask her. Just ask. “How do you like it?”. It’s a simple question, and most women will answer straight out. If she’s being all coy, ask “Do you like pressure? Is it sensitive?” The clitoris is a varied item, indeed. Treat each one as though you have never encountered one before. Forget everything that your last partner liked.

3. Most women like to be fucked, and fucked well. Yes, there are women out there who want to “make love” every time – sweet, gentle, rocking love with lots of eye contact and loving kisses. Those women are not the majority. The majority like to be pounded. The majority like to have their hair pulled. The majority like a good, solid jackhammering. When a woman is bucking wildly against you, it’s not because she wants you to pull back and slowly swirl your cock around her vagina like you’re mixing a cake batter up there. It’s because she wants you to hold down her arms, or grab her hips, or push her legs above her head, and fuck her harder. Don’t be too afraid of what this means as far as gender equality goes – I am a raging feminist bitch, but I still want to be penetrated like you are planning on fucking my throat from the inside out.

4. A little roughness is nice. Do not pretend that you had no idea that some women like their hair pulled. Do not act shocked if she wants you to spank her (”Really? Spanking? Won’t it hurt?” – yes, it does. That’s the fucking point). We know you’ve read Stuff and Maxim, and that’s all those laddie mags talk about in their “How to Please Her” sections. Start with light, full handed smacks to the area of her ass that she sits on. Judge her response and continue on from there. You don’t have to bend her over one knee and tell her she’s a naughty girl and that Daddy’s going to punish her; save that for the fifth date. Women are less delicate than you think, so don’t worry about breaking her hip.

5. It’s OK for you to make noise. Otherwise, we feel like we are fucking a ninja. Unless you actually are a ninja, and have sneaked into our rooms with vibrating nanuchaku and zippered black pajamas, please, please make some noise. If you’re banging a woman, and she’s crying out and saying your name and moaning, and you can’t even manage a grunt, she’s going to feel like an idiot. You don’t have to make the sounds she is making, but do SOMETHING. You know how when you are watching porn, and the girl does something great to the guy and the guy kind of goes “Ah!”, half grunt, half yell? That’s HOT. Do that. Whisper our name (assuming you know it) gruffly. Groan against her neck when you’re in missionary position. You don’t have to grunt like a mountain gorilla, but if you are totally mute, she’s going to get worried.

6. Most women like dirty talk, in addition to the grunting. If you’d like to get some dirty talk going, ask her if she likes the way you fuck her. If she responds well, continue with something like, “I love fucking you. God, you look so fucking hot.” Is she still moaning in response? “Your tits are so beautiful.” Does that work? If she doesn’t respond well to the term “tits”, you might have to stop there. If she keep moaning or responding, pass Go and collect $200. Try the following:

“Oh, god. Your pussy is SO tight.”

“You’re so wet – are you wet because you like the feel of my cock ramming you?”

“I think I’m going to come inside you. I’m going to fill up your little cunt.” It doesn’t matter that you’re wearing a condom; we LOVE hearing this.

If all of those work, you can then progress to things like “sexy little bitch” and “dirty whore”. Tread carefully, but please, tread. Do not tiptoe. Do not sit down. Charge.

6. You’re not obligated to eat a woman out. In return, she’s not obligated to choke on your dick. Don’t skip one and expect the other. If you do eat a woman out, the only comment you should make about her pussy is how nice it is. The length of her labia minora, the color of her interior, her waxing job or full bush – you are not John Madden. No time for color commentary.

7. Do not bitch about condoms. Oh, we hate them. Trust us. They hurt us more than they hurt you. But we don’t want to be preggers, and you don’t want to catch anything, right? Don’t whine about condom sex. Do not explain that you can’t come with one on. LEARN to come with one on, or if not, help us figure out what to do with you once we’re satisfied and it’s time for you to let loose your load.

8. We really like it when you come. It’s called a money shot for a reason. Watching semen shoot out of you is one of the most gratifying things EVER. However, do not assume that she wants you to jack it off onto her face. She might, but don’t assume. Seeing and/or feeling you come is rewarding for us, so there’s no need to deprive us of it, but please do consult us before unleashing. “I think I’m going to come – how do you like it?” is a fair question that shouldn’t rob you of your testicles.

In recent memory, I’ve been fucked by a very aggressive, manly guy, and I’ve been… well, fucked is the wrong term here. I’ve been penetrated by a total and utter wuss. Who am I going to run back to when I’m ready for my fill? Manly McHardon, that’s who.”

Evangeline Lilly… We Meet Again

Twervert — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 19:41:05 +0000

Three nights ago, I decided to start watching Lost, since Hulu has all of seasons 1 through 5 available until the end of 2010.

First to really catch my eye was Kate. She’s attractive on so many levels, not the least of which being her mysterious past. As I watched that first episode, then the second, I began to get this feeling that she looked familiar. It was one of those things where you’re almost certain you’ve never seen the person before, but there’s some intangible trait about them that nags at the back of your mind. I was having that feeling with Kate.

In the beginning of one of the episodes, as I half watched the names come up, one of them caught my attention: Evangeline Lilly. That name… it sounded very familiar, but again I could place it. Was that who played Kate? I paused the show and went to IMDB.com; lo and behold, Kate is played by Evangeline Lilly. But that still didn’t satiate that elusive sense of familiarity. So I did an image search on Google for her name.

To my very pleasant surprise, two images leaped out at me immediately:

Picture 1

Picture 2

These two images have been in my personal collection for quite some time, and are in fact a couple of my all time favorites. The one is such a playful image; her pigtails, the frilly little undies, that gleeful smile. The other makes my crotch throb with the devastating curve of her lower back and ass; and if that weren’t enough, there’s the contrast of her black stockings.

Easily the hottest on the show, I’m looking forward to getting to know Ms Lilly – well, at least her character Kate – over the course of several seasons of Lost.

The Scoop On Semen

Twervert — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 19:41:03 +0000

A very interesting infographic about some facts and properties of semen. Click above to go to the original story at OnlineSchools.com.