Gangsta Moll Deactivated

Lone Ranger

It is so intense: so immediate, so urgent: the kiss sensual and erotic, his hands roaming my body leaving tingling trails of desire. His body is firm, fit, slim: and his cock, when I push down his swim trunks, springs out rigid and hard and erect into my hand.

Smoke without fire

My incompetence at texting is legendary

Uncertainty It was typical of Laetitia to make a theatrical show of it. The stage dressed as if for a gala performance: the tables set with glittering crystal glasses, silver service; the long buffet tables groaning with exquisitely presented food. The only concession to Science is the Portal - and even that has a frame of glittering silver so that it looks more like a mirror than the engineering marvel that it is - though now its mirror clarity is gone, shut off, and only its dull grey real surface gleams softly in the chandelier lights. Typical also of Laetitia to steal the glory for herself. To be fair, in many ways it was her project: she who raised the funding, courted the rich and famous and powerful to support the huge expense and years of work; she who provided this glorious setting, the mansion high on the cliffs, the laboratories hidden in stable blocks and outhouses; and she who managed all this through successive changes, of governments and markets and crises. But the maths was mine - and the idea too. The idea was simple: the maths less so, the engineering even more nearly impossible. It is in my head now, all of it - the maths turns and twists like multidimensional geometric shapes that shift and move and mesmerise with their clear cruel beauty. And I see the flaw in it: the human dimension, the unpredictable, that I being me was most prone to ignore, to forget - to be in fact, because I am me, unaware of. To see a world without observers. That's all it was - a speculation, a wondering. A quantum world, without observers to collapse the quantum uncertainty wave functions and make anything concrete and real. All the possibilities, just co-existing: none crystallised, none chosen into being by the act of an observer. I had to explain it to her, of course. How the world - our world - is at its heart uncertain - wave functions, mathematical entities, that can shape and form the way the world is and how it behaves - but do not do so unless and until an observer observes. No-one knew what an 'observer' was: but we did know, and experiment demonstrated, over and over again, that unless and until an observer observed - and yes, it seemed necessarily a human observer, observing being intrinsically a special thing that humans do - until they observed, all the possibilities co-existed, a fog of uncertainty, a mist of possibility. But once observed, all the possibilities collapse, with just one out of all chosen - crystallised - to become concrete, real, the world as we know it. Our world - their world, I remind myself, sorrowfully - was so teeming with observers that everything was concrete - every hill, every river, every star, every cloud, all crystallised into concrete crystal clear reality by the ever-prsent human tide of observers. And all I did was to wonder what it would be like to see a world without observer - to see the quantum realm, raw and wild, untrammelled, uncontrolled? And so we did it. We built the Portal. It is so fresh in my mind, that vision through the Portal's mirror surface. Literally a mirror at first, because the world it showed was ours: every detail exactly reproduced - crystallised the moment before we energised the Portal - every single thing, just as it was: except, no people - no observers to collapse the wave functions. And then its slow divergence: the grey swirling mist around all that lacked concrete permanence, gradually swirling so that anything less than certain started to shimmer and fade and blur into the mist. We designed the Portal as a window - a way to look into the quantum world: not a door, through which to enter it. But I think we were so taken with our project - so intoxicated by our own genius - that we forgot something. Without observers, anything is possible: even the least probable, so long as it is not impossible, is possible. Tautology, yes, and circular, a spiral of uncertainty. And I forgot too that the Portal had two sides: one in the uncertain realm where anything was possible. Including that the Portal had a flaw - a flaw that was almost impossible in our world, and in fact impossible because we had worked with mathematical and engineering perfection. But without observers, in the realm of pure uncertainty, the Portal failed: it leaked, it was - accidentally - observed. The Portal was a window, not a door: but it is possible to open a window, and go through it. Somehow, someone observed the Portal, through its window, and that observation crystallised, in the uncertain quantum world, a Portal whose window was open. Now I am here in the deserted glittering ballroom. Where I look, the grey mist crystallises to concrete reality. At the periphery of my vision, I am sometimes aware of a sort of coalescing - forming, from formlessness, to clarity. I have explored - the mansion, its grounds, right down to the clifftops overlooking the beach and the sea. Everything I have seen is real, now. Being me, I experimented - tested this new world - tried to control the crystalising reality, to choose from multiple possibilities - but I can't. I think perhaps I never could - I was, and am now, a passive observer, collapsing wave functions but with no choice - at the mercy of whatever happens, tossed on the waves of chance. The world I see - the world I create by observing - is the world that would be, without me: the most probable world, the world of pure chance. Things happen to me, and I think I control them but I do not: it feels as if I do but I don't. There are others - few, but some. I have seen them, on the beach and on the far hillside: others, people - and things - somehow brought through the Portal as was I. I watched, through binoculars, at a distance: saw how the wave function collapsed into reality for them just as it does for me - but into unexpected and sometimes strange realities: their probabilities, not mine. Perhaps the Portal crossed many multiverses, brought many probabilities to this new uncertain world? Strange creatures, odd artefacts, unfamiliar landscapes. And some are not passive. Some can choose what becomes real: not consciously or knowingly - not yet, at least - but I watched them crystallise improbable realities, control what happened: even if that control was itself uncontrolled, chaotic, wild and mad: desires, perhaps - and sometimes evidently lusts - choosing the probabilities that satisfied their own needs, selecting the reality that suited their desires. To control fate is to be a sort of god. I wonder, perhaps, if in our world - my lost world - gods were so few and passives so many that the choice of the gods was swept away by the multitudes of us who collapsed the most probable, the least unexpected? And in earlier worlds, less populated, less observed, perhaps the gods - them - worked their magic more easily just because fewer passive observers - us - countered them with predictable normality? Back here in the ballroom all is calm: predictable, normal, familiar. I have been here some hours now. Outside, just now, I caught the faint cries and howls and shouts in the distance, approaching. There are so few of 'us', and 'they' are running wild.

oops

Oh, OK - I guess I kind of jumped the gun Naive newby enthusiasm...

Where do I post my story?

I am really enjoying role playing with @WritesNaughtyStories - he reads my own desires and plays to them, with some surprises that take the story in unexpected but rewarding directions. I also find him a nice person and I value the way he is so ready to advise and make suggestions for a quote inexperienced role player like me.

This sounds really fun: but I don't know any of those games, so please be patient with me.

I would love to do this. I might need guidance if there are rules, and on the mechanics of doing it.

Never fucked

Forbidden knowledge

Carnal knowledge

I have to tip my head back to accept the kiss. His cock nestles, hard and thick, between our bodies. His tongue probes between my lips, and delves in when I part them.

He knows what I am here for: I feel silly for trying to pretend otherwise. His hand slides on my thigh, leaving a trail of tingling anticipation. "I am Molly..." ... I watch for a mocking laugh at how old fashioned my name is, but his eyes are hot with desire, not mockery. My own hand finds the bulge in his swim trunks, caresses it...

Nor do I

I can't help noticing the trim fitness of his body as he rises, slips into the pool, swims over close to me - too close, for decency, almost touching. Despite his relative youth, he exudes confidence and I feel almost as if the ages are reversed - I feel naive and innocent to his experienced confidence. I know the reputation of this place - have heard what happens here - and I came here with that knowledge. But even so I am lost for words at hi boldness - and my face flushes at his implied flattery. Indeed, I did come here 'dressed like that', with a hopeless hope to 'get a certain reaction', but I did not expect my motives to be so immediately and easily discerned. i want to make some clever witty repost, but I cannot - I float, close to his body, my mouth opening and closing like a beached fish: "uh...ummm...I..." And I flush even redder as I feel a hand brush gently against my bare thigh.

My bikini is too skimpy, and too prone to untying. But I slip quickly into the pool, gloating with only my shoulders above the water. The boy's blue hair is beguiling - Istare, flush when he notices, but swim gently over when he smiles

I am not always on line, and when I am I do not always have the time to respond immediately, sorry.

I am not very good at inventing a plot in advance. I have a recurring fantasy where I am flung into the orc world, a slight peasant fighter but helpless against the great strong creatures.

Thank you I do, it is a recurrent fantasy and sometimes erotic dream that was triggered by something that happened a few years ago.

I think I have an orc gangbang fantasy then

Is it a kink or a fetish to keep dreaming about being used by orcs?

Just costume party gone 'wrong' could be fun