S.F.F.F.F. (Single, Female, Frustrated, and Finally Fucked.)

[Writers_Bloque]

Teaser: What happens to a woman who's approaching thirty, who has not been laid properly yet? For men, we become wizards.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. All sexual acts depicted in this story take place between consenting adults. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Index:

• Another Day
• Hell is Soaked Panties

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Title: S.F.F.F.F. (Single, Female, Frustrated, and Finally Fucked.)
Author: Writer's Bloque, Feat. His lovely wife.
Content Warnings: Frustration, Release, Change, and Power.
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Women have been compared to angels, but those wings get naughty too.
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S.F.F.F.F. (Single, Female, Frustrated, and Finally Fucked.)

Another day.

Nothing.

I feel nothing, and I keep feeling nothing, day after depressing day. The job was soul draining, but the reward was getting to look at the hidden slice of beefcake in the basement records room. Sometimes I would silently trigger a problem in the network down there, just to go down and interact with him. Not that I do much, just say hi, and get to work.

I am almost at the point of Ennui, As I stand here in the shower, flicking my bean to the memory of the video of a woman being balled up, and fucked until she was left as a gooey mess, last night. It was the only thing keeping me going, the prospect of getting a true dicking down.

I came hard.

This one was good enough to leave me feeling flushed as I washed up, and prepared to face another day as a corporate wage slave. I stopped caring a month ago, since I have become the quiet topic of the rumor mill. Bra, need to go up a size, check. Panties, need to go down a size, check. Blouse, unkempt, check. Panty hose, black, almost time to replace, check. Skirt, Fuck that thing with two diamond studded dildos, check. my shoes and badge: "Winnifred Amona, I.T." check.

I applied the bare minimum makeup, checks myself out, and don my comfy kitty hoodie, and leaves, locking the door behind me.

"She'd be gorgeous, if she trimmed her hair and straightened herself out." "I bet she has no life or hobbies."

Fuck them. Just because my panties don't drop for the fake ass men, doesn't mean I am frigid, or have no life. I have standards.

But maybe I am too picky.

I just want a man who can look me in the eye, and be honest with me. Actually care about me and my feelings, not just about a hookup on the way to the gym.

I feel like taking the train today, as I do not feel like driving. Why bother, its not like anyone even notices me being late as long as my support tickets are done. I think they appreciate not having me start haunting the place on time. More time to flirt with the blonde haired ditzy sluts.

I walked out of my apartment building as the cool air stung my face, giving my cheeks a rosy tint. I stopped by the coffee stand for my usual and just barely made it onto the train in time. I pulled out my tablet and pulled up the latest issue of my favorite hentai manga, "I Just Want to Fuck My Way Through This Sex Starved World." I was hoping beyond hope that the MC might not be a dick with legs, and choose who to bed first wisely.

The new chapter disappointed me.

The MC hooked up with the maid over the warrior who saved his life more times than I could count. But the way the story is going, the warrior will be getting laid before I do.

I exited the app, and looked up to see HIM. My heart skipped a beat. Every fucking time I sees the buff, nerdy records clerk of the company standing there indulging in reading something, not paying attention to anything but his music and the book, as he held the hand strap, I need a panty change.

God Damn.

He was the only man who made my heart jump, and pussy twitch as I sit there starting to lose myself in a fantasy.

He must have noticed me.

He gave me a small wave and smile.

I literally would strip naked right now if he asked me too. I was not too proud to admit it. I mean this man looked buff and nerdy, but he lit a fire deep in my core that made me want to bear all his babies and keep his balls drained. He was an outcast in the company too. Never talking to the single ladies, just alone in the records office in the basement. Day in and day out, storing, clearing and disposing of records.

It is a waste, such a nice slice of beefcake, being hidden away, like a prize in the dungeon to be claimed.

I would murder just to get a chance for him to just speak to me more than work related bullshit. Something in the air today made me feel like today might actually not suck all the ass in the world.
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The stop was only like a block from the building, but the platform was notoriously built an inch lower than the door, forcing passengers to pay attention when leaving the train. Of course I was not, lost in the internal conversation between my pussy begging me to jump on him, and my want not to go to jail. I fell. Very hard. But a pair of strong hands caught me.

"To early to space out."

He spoke to me with a gentle smile as he held me like those cheesy romance novel covers. But holy fuck and hell was it burning my core alive. I felt everything, every finger position, the strength of those arms, his minty breath on my neck, and the distinct bulge in his pants as I was pressed against him.

I have to say this now, fuck those bitches that scream about personal space when a hunk catches you from falling. Fuck them in the ass. They need a dick more than me, because when a hot man catches you, you enjoy that shit. Be embarrassed to make him feel good, but you fucking record the moment in your mind. I however am a complete dork, I tried to sound cool, but ended up sounding like a dipshit schoolgirl.

"Th...ank...you."

"No worries, Winny. See you at work."

He spoke to me as I righted myself and adjusted my outfit. But in his eyes, he enjoyed it. Men get that small glimmer my mom used to say was the hook being set, now I had to reel him in. Damn, now I wished I had a slutty secretary outfit, but something is telling me that he might not be into it. I walked to work on shaky legs, the food stand lady, a friend, noticed my shaky approach and started work on my usual breakfast.

"You look like you just got fucked."

"No, Sheila, close though."

Since no one was in line, we spent a few moments talking, and the stand owner was truly happy for her friend. Even if its just being held by a beefy coworker.

I paid and left as customers started to line up.

I enter the building and Melissa, the front desk receptionist ran to me when she spotted me.

"Its an emergency, Records is down, and the top floor is extremely mad. They clocked you in already, just get down there and fix it!"

"Alright, alright."

I rushed to the elevator and descended into Hell.........


End of chapter 1
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Let me know if this interests you or not. Been toying with this concept for a bit, before fleshing it out.

[RapeU]

I’m going to be direct, because I think there’s something here worth improving.

Right now, the story feels off to me, and the best way I can describe it is this: it reads like taking a full story, breaking it into pieces, and then stitching together a few random segments. Each individual part has something going for it, but they don’t feel fully connected yet, so it’s hard to experience it as one cohesive narrative.

For example, the opening has a strong emotional hook, but it quickly shifts tone into something very different instead of building on that feeling. Then the transition into the fantasy elements feels abrupt, like we’ve jumped into a different part of the story without a clear bridge. Because of that, the pacing feels rushed and the story doesn’t have time to ground itself before moving on to the next big idea.

It ends up feeling less like one continuous arc and more like several pieces of a larger story that haven’t fully been tied together yet. There's also changes in POV that make it confusing.

I do think there are good elements here, especially in the character voice and some of the concepts, but they’re competing with each other instead of reinforcing each other. Slowing things down and focusing on how each part connects to the next would go a long way toward making it feel more cohesive.

[Writers_Bloque]

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Being trapped and horny is a special hell in itself.
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Hell Is Soaked Panties

I did not have a chance, as I was now in my underwear in a server room where the cooling systems decided to fuck off to Narnia, while the epitome of raw male sexuality was in his shorts, fighting to realign some blades after having to use the recovery blades to save the company's entire database and electronically stored records.

It was a bare basic script kiddie hack exploit, done by a smaller company trying to level the playing field.

But they failed hard. They just delayed us, but did not topple us off the throne we held as the best in the city for what we do. What they managed to do, before system security kicked them out, was to almost overload the entire building's computer-controlled systems.

Normally, this is an easy fix, but today of all days, the entire system was going down for maintenance in pieces.

The pressing issue now was that we were separated by a thick pane of glass as he moved through the records servers like a shirtless sexy caveman, and I was now feeling seconds away from going full nude.

I could tell he was using all of his willpower not to look at me directly. A mousey IT assistant delivered my bag of tools from the locker and stopped a second too long to watch the greatest show on Earth for horny single ladies, then she left, beet red and in a desperate hurry to be anywhere else but ogling a half-naked man.

I smiled as I plugged in the server tablet and began the boring debug and defragging process, as I sat on the floor, trying to be small, so that when the security cameras began working again, I would not be in their view.

But my body, life, and the universe had other plans. My underwear, wet from sweat and constant exposure to the delicious poison of a hot guy with no shirt on, made a deliberate choice to tighten around my mound, while my bra went full dumb, and instead of being quasi comfortable and supportive, went the route of tightening to the point of almost letting the girls free at any wrong move.

My musk was heavy, and I was sweating profusely as the progress bar on the tablet screen barely moved. But from my vantage point, I could see that he was supporting a massive erection. Like not a semi or chub, but a full mast, ram rod of justice. I always fantasized about what he was packing, and ladies reading this, his flimsy boxers were pulling triple overtime to restrain the monster between those well honed legs. That biker from that one vampire movie long ago sparked a chuckle at what he asked the MC. "Want to feel the power between your legs?" Why yes, Mr. Records Guy, I do in fact.

Then the universe both blessed and cursed me right there. He had to shift his stance enough to carefully insert the final blade before letting the system purge the filth that was clogging it up. But then it happened, His cock head, tired of being trapped, found the boxer's flaps, and popped out. I don't know how acutely aware men are about the position of their penises, but he seemed to not notice that the monster was slowly freeing itself with every movement of his hips. I wanted to crawl in there to coo it and soothe it back to sleep, with the noble sacrifice of my not-so-virgin mouth, and my aching pussy.

My pussy, was now pretending to be a waterfall, and the floor under me was starting to host a puddle. I grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it in one go. I was becoming mesmerized by its movements, like a mouse hypnotized by a cobra.

A few beeps escaped my notice as the pad marked out loud at being an eighth of the way finished as a system was being rebooted. I did not care. I started to finger myself. No shame whatsoever. Blame libido, biology, and the fact that all he could see was me sitting with my attention on the tablet as I fingered myself quietly to three orgasms, the last was so strong I collapsed. He noticed me fall over and unlocked the door.

He rushed and knelt over me with a cold bottle of water, that evil python looking at me with one eye was close enough that I could kiss the snake if I felt like it. I did, but despite it just being us down there, my radio came to life with an update on the systems on the upper floor, and that the mousey assistant was on her way down with lunch, and to help restore a vital system with me. I groaned, trying to hide the fact that I was just beating my bean.

He helped me sit up and finally noticed that his fully erect dick was out in the open.

He begged for forgiveness, and I was not so offended to raise hell about seeing a nice big and thick cock.

"So Sorry, Winnie!"

"Don't worry about it, it's not like I am not displaying my junk too."

I said as it was now obvious that I was showing off a nice camel toe, too. He ran back into the records server room when the assistant bounced in, in her bathing suit. She always wore it, because after work she liked going for a swim at the gym pool.

The show was over as he put his slacks back on, as he had finally stabilized the records servers, and the rest of the work would be done at his computer.

We spent another hour eating and restoring systems, especially the a/c.

It was close to time to clock out when the assistant and I sealed the room, having saved things. I wanted a cold soda, and the assistant, with a slightly wicked twinkle in her eye, offered to let me go with her to the gym she uses to swim and cool off. I was not really paying attention and agreed out of instinct and my own wicked plan that was forming in my head.

"Hey! How about a swim at XXX gym?"

I messaged Abel, yes, his name is Abel, and offered him an invite for a swim, and maybe dinner later.

"Sure, I am a member there too!"

Of course you are. Why the fuck would you not be? He was turning into the living example of a fucking wet dream, but I couldn't care less.

We were allowed to clock out early, as I just saved the company's ass, and for a small time, I was the hero outcast.

But something wicked this way cums.....

End of Chapter 2
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How is the single narrative working out for those that read it this far? What do you think is going to happen to poor Winny?

[RapeU]

Chapter 1's rewrite absolutely works. Winnie feels like an actual person now. I also finally understand that she works in IT, which I either missed or didn't pick up on in the previous version. That chapter provides exactly the kind of slow momentum this story needs.

Chapter 2 is more of a struggle. The story seems caught between cartoon logic and real-world logic. The office setting, cyberattack, and workplace relationships are presented realistically, but many of the events and reactions feel more like an adult anime or cartoon comedy. I think the story would be stronger if it leaned harder in one direction or the other.

Doing both can absolutely work. Sitcoms do it all the time. The difference is that sitcom characters usually react to the absurdity rather than treating it as completely normal.

Futurama is a good example of this blend done correctly. In the episode "Roswell That Ends Well," the Planet Express crew accidentally travel back to the 1940s. The premise is absurd, but the characters spend the entire episode reacting to how strange and dangerous the situation is. They even react with horror and disgust when Fry performs the actions that ultimately make him his own grandfather.

Now imagine that same episode if the crew simply went through the motions. If they walked around the 1940s and acted as though nothing unusual was happening, it would feel very different. That's the feeling I got from parts of Chapter 2. Some of the situations are intentionally exaggerated and comedic, but the characters rarely acknowledge how bizarre those situations actually are, which makes it harder to tell what rules the story is operating under.