Tantalizing Stories by Donnee Patrese

Alexis is the name of the girl that gave me my first same-sex kiss. For most of my childhood I had a suspicion of myself that I was not only attracted to members of the same sex. I was frightened by this realization so I decided that it  wasn't  true.  I prayed that it was a phase and that it was something I could either suppress or something that would fade away all together. My senior year in high school toward the end of the year when seniors were skipping and teachers were no longer giving out assignments, my friend Alexis and I were invited to the house of one of our male classmates. I knew that if we went something might happen but I had no clue what would happen and what emotions it would stir in me. I knew that she was bisexual but at that time in my life I  wasn't  completely sure what that really meant and that was not a term that I would use to describe myself. Up until then I never thought that I would ever in my life ...

He walked circles around me trying to decide what he wanted to do with me. I sat there silently waiting for him to make up his mind. I had my preference but it was his decision. To the right there was a small table that held elements of a punishment and he was deciding on one. I tried not to stare too hard at the one I wanted.  It was not my decision. I was afraid he would spite me and choose a different one. Finally he stopped circling me and approached the small wooden table. I watched as his fingers grazed each object and wondered what it would be. Suddenly he grabbed the handcuffs and an object that made me shiver. Nipple clamps. Though I loathed nipple clamps, he always found some way to give me intense pleasure while he used them. He approached me then slowly disappeared behind me. My heart began to race with anticipation. He forcefully grabbed my arms and he pinned them behind me. My skin pressed into the back of the wooden chair. My wrist stung as he slapped...

“You cannot be a good writer of serious fiction if you are not depressed.” ~Kurt Vonnegut Jr We all know the old stereotypes of the tortured artist, the alcoholic writer. They play into the belief that artistic creative types seem to be more depressed or are more susceptible to mental illness than the average person. Those old stereotypes may not have been too far off from many famous authors, poets and painters. When you think of Hemingway, Poe, Keats, Proust and Van Gogh, you don’t always think of their genius. More often than not you also think about their lives and how each one obviously suffered from some mental illness or depression. it almost makes depression seem glamorous, yet it isn’t glamorous to the person that suffers from it. I know from experience. I am not ashamed say that on occasion I suffer from depression. Okay…more often than that. It is something that has plagued me for quite a long time. As long as I can remember, I never understood it. When I...

The Hunger Story from my short story anthology Erotic Encounters : Tales of the paranormal and preternatural  available on Amazon. I n the light of the full moon he whispered softly in her ear. “You want me, just admit it.” She wanted to admit it but she couldn’t. She did not want him to know that she could not get enough of him. Just the thought of him and her knees would get weak and her pussy would get severely drenched. The scent of him would leave her melting inside yearning for a taste. She just needed a taste of his long hard cock filling her mouth. How she missed having him in ger mouth and inside of her. It almost didn’t matter that he could transform into something else at any given second. He was dangerous and she knew he had a hold on her. She was obsessed. She escaped from him once before and knew that if he ever had her again…she would not run and she would not fight though the fear of him consumed her. She was completely obsessed. Obsessed by h...

The stars and the moon gave off the only light shining on us. We preferred it that way. What could be more romantic? I started by removing her shirt. I pulled it up and over her head dropping it to the floor. She shivered a little as the cool air hit her skin. Instinctively her arms wrapped around herself to shield her body from the cool night breeze. I removed her arms, unwrapping them, exposing her beautiful dark skin. I pulled her closer and replaced her arms with my own to give her warmth. She looked up at me searching my eyes for my next move. I don’t make her wait long. I leaned down and captured her willing lips with mine. Her kiss warmed me up as well and instantly my erection grew big and strong. She tasted sweet and I could tell she prepared for this kiss. Her minty taste engulfed me and it only increased its intensity. She pulled back and I released her from my arms. She took a step back and reached behind herself. Slowly with only a small struggle, she released herse...

1.        “ For women the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time. ” ~Isabel Allende 2.        “ Sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go it's one of the best. ” ~Woody Allen 3.        “ We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation. ” ~Lily Tomlin 4.        “ It is not sex that gives the pleasure, but the lover. ” ~Marge Piercy 5.        “ Nymphomaniac: a woman as obsessed with sex as an average man. ” ~ Mignon McLaughlin 6.        “ Don't worry, it only seems kinky the first time. ” ~Unknown 7.        “ When a man goes on a date he wonders if he is going to get lucky. A woman already knows. ” ~Frederike Ryder...