Disclaimer:
In this series you will find no incest, rape, drugging, coercion, serious violence, sci-fi, fantasy, bestiality, scat, necrophilia or anything of very offensive nature, including underage sex. The focus of this series is on characters, storylines, humor, and it happens to be set in a sexual environment. Please enjoy it in this context. If you are familiar with my previous work, you are in for more of the same.

Note on format: These chapters will be interconnected, but there will be many different characters, some may reappear. At the beginning of each chapter will be a brief introduction and description of the character, and it will then jump into the point of view of that character.





The Craigslist Chronicles: Chapter 1
Cynthia, 24, short curly brown hair, perky large b-cups, skinny. Cynthia looks like a girl/woman, someone who slept with stuffed animals well into her teens, and engaged in endless sessions of “no I love you more” types of phone calls. While not religious, she certainly is conservative, modest, and a frequent critic of those who sleep around. She is a college graduate with a good job, and her own apartment. She is currently single, and has not had a boyfriend since she found out that her lover was cheating on her six months ago. Though she is typically meek, quiet, shy, etc, she will not tolerate cheating and kicked his ass to the curb.)

Saturday Afternoon
I’m getting hornier than I ever thought possible. I’ve had a vibrator since I was sixteen, but never have I had to replace the batteries this frequently. For the first time in my life, I’m considering the fact that I might need to get laid. Wham-bam, thank you sir, and move on. I’ve always mentally castigated people that did such things. Sex outside of a relationship? That’s just asking for a disease or an unwanted pregnancy or other undesirable consequences. I’ve always felt myself to be of higher morals or values or self-control or some such bullcrap. But now, with my fingers numb and forearm sore from this mornings vibratathon, and having to fight off the urge to find the nearest phallic object and jam it inside myself, I feel like I just might understand the desire for sex overcoming the lack of a relationship and resulting in two people with little connection just doing the deed and parting ways.
I keep hoping that if I jerk-it the urges I feel will subside and I can return to my normal day. I decide it’s time to watch that porno that my ex left here when we broke up. It’s called Rockin the Bed, and has a photoshopped picture of a blonde with huge fake tits and a muscly man with a huge cock that looks more painful than fun. Tim tried to get me to watch this while we did it once, I made him turn it off, because, well, it was creepy. Why would it make sex better to have this fake crap on the tv. It made me feel undesirable I suppose. I pop in the DVD, close the blinds, and lay down on the couch. I jam my hand inside my sweat pants, but above my panties as I wait for the credits to end and the fun stuff to start. It’s always surprising how warm and moist my panties are when I wouldn’t think I was wet, but apparently I am.
Varying sex scenes are shown, its standard porn, we’ve all seen it I suppose. I slowly rub my fingers up and down my panties until I can’t stand it and I have to put them under the panties. Wow, she is wet! My middle finger pushes its way between my wet lips and I push it down to the opening of my vagina, and then slowly up to my clit. My fingertip reaches my clit, and with a little pressure, moves above the clit, giving her a little bit of a flick, and then the fingertip goes once around the clit, then back down and slightly in and around my vagina. Repeat. Oh my, repeat. On screen, two blondes are taking turns sucking off a huge cock. They’re on their knees and they look like they just are aching for him to cum all over them. I’ve never been a fan of the hand grabbing the back of the head, the domination kind of thing that men have over the women in porn. It’s degrading. But for some reason, right now, I think I get it. I wish I could grab a man by the hair and jam his head between my legs and feel him suck my clit. There’s something about the desire and the animal nature of it.
Soon the man is lying on his back, and one woman gets on him and rides his cock hard, while the other girl sits on his face. The first girl is jackhammering on him, I don’t see how that is physically possible. I’ve been on top, but I’ve always gone slow, and done more grinding than jackhammering. For me, it’s always slow and sweet and love-making. I’ve never liked it when a man used the F word, or took any kind of dominant tone or anything like that. I would never let him cum on my face or breasts. And no slapping my ass while we’re at it. Sex is an expression of love, not domination. At least, that’s what I’ve always thought. Right not however, I think I might understand the other side of it. Maybe sex can really be just about sex and having fun and, well, cumming, and fucking. My middle finger is now firmly jammed in my pussy, and as I frantically start fingering myself, my palm keeps slapping against my clit and I love it. The moans had started a while ago and were now getting beyond my control.
On screen, the man is doing one girl doggy style while the girls are in a sixty-nine. So one girl is getting fucked hard and getting licked at the same time. I never liked doggy, I like contact, face to face, kissing, maybe a little neck sucking, but when he is behind me, I feel distant and objectified or something like that.