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Woman of respect- This idea isn't as well thought out as some of the others, so I'll just tell you what I'm thinking: A woman you respect and or holds some power of you, i.e. a boss, a professor, a landlord, etc. warns you you're in danger of some grand punishment or evection, or offers you something you want like a promotion or cash or something- the way out? Her son (21 only). She wants to watch you fuck him. She wants you to make him feel good, do all the things he wants, while she watches. She'll check in with him to make sure you're doing your best, to make sure he gets what he wants, so if you want to get what she has to offer, you'll have to go through him. Obviously this idea is broad so I'm open to ideas!

Hoe-tel affair- My heart pounds as I talk through the sliding doors of the hotel. We've been doing this for month's, you'd think I'd be over the nerves, the excitement, but every time I slide my wedding ring into my wallet it all feels new again. I check in under a fake name, grab my room key, text you the room number. We're on the third floor. Nothing fancy. This isn't some romantic gesture, or grand event. It's another long lunch on a Thursday, where no one will find us. It started as an accident. Too much to drink when no one was around to stop us. We laughed it off, said it was the alcohol, no need to make a big deal out of it. It was harder to deny the second time. And the third. Finally after weeks of back-seat hookups in my sedan, you invited me to this hotel. Now, every other Thursday, we meet here, away from our every day lives, just the two of us, enjoying each other. I sit on the edge of the bed, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt as I watch TV, passing the time. You should be here any minute now. I look in the mirror by the bed, checking my hair, making sure my buttons are all aligned. If I'm going to risk the life I built, I want to look good doing it. There's a knock on the door. You're here. I take a deep breath, then go to let you in.

The King's Maid- "Thank you, that will be all." I dismiss the meek handmaid as she lights the last of my candles, leaving the cavernous royal bed chamber dimly lit.

"Yes, my pri-" she catches herself. "Your highness." She bows as quickly shuffles off through the servant exit, her face blushing red. I don't mind. My position is new to all of us. As the door near the bed closes softly behind her, I lay back onto my over-large mattress. The red quilt on the bed feels an island of safety amidst the looming shadows on the edge of the candles glow. The gallant décor still left from my fathers reign is barely visible. A constant reminder of my place as his successor.

My body aches with stress. My mind is a fog of strategy and taxes and public opinion. My very being feels pulled apart like soft bread. I was never a social prince, but now that I was king, I would be required to marry soon, so the last few nights have been filled with eligible maidens, daughters of high lords and neighboring kingdoms, all cloying for a spot of importance. Every moment I could feel their piercing hawk eyes searching me for a way in, some way to endear themselves to my love. A faint touch, a sweet word, a daring neckline, peaking toward firm breasts...

Those breasts did look sweet. The thought of them stirred sensation between my legs. Why shouldn't I choose my wife off such a thing? It made me happy enough. I slid my hand under my trousers, feeling my growing manhood, rubbing it gently as I thought of what she might look like under her lavender gown. My hand grasps my shaft as I lower my trousers to my knees, laying back and taking a deep breath as I stroke faster, and faster.

I'm so caught up in my fantasy, I don't hear the servant door peak open, just a hair. I don't notice the little, breathy moans coming from behind the door, or the little eyes glaring out into my room.

A sudden crash rushes me back to my attention, I sit up alert, expecting mayhem with the guards- but seeing instead the servants door thrown open, and the humble handmaiden, crashed to the floor, her dress askew, baring a breast, her hand trying to escape the mess of fabric between her legs as she struggles to get back to her feet...