From @par7h: They met in a crowded place. Made eye contact, exchanged smiles, spoke briefly, the plot thickened and they danced. She thought she finally found love, someone to rely on. Only later to discover he strictly endorsed debauchery. Amused she was to find out that birds of same feather actually flock together.
From @SugarsNSpice: It was one of those wild nights. Revelry was all around. Some celebrated freedom, others’ welcomed ‘real’ life. I was giving my fare-well to naivety by indulging in debauchery. Inebriation was something that always made him lose. Today marked the beginning of his devastation, but I was incapacitated. He ruined it all, even the love.
From @bassyc: His debauchery has reached its heights. He tries his best not to dream about those nights with the ex, but in vain. He looks over the shoulder and sighs for the girl sleeping beside, unalarmed, happy, content.
From @Writoholic_Gal: It poured on her as he touched her, the touch wasn't to her body... But her soul.
He hugged her whole night, swept through her hair, kissed her... But in the morning left her a note 'I loved you, but I lied'
From @m_saik: Resting on her foam cushioned mattress, fingers holding an unlit davidoff, she sipped Jack Daniels drowning in Beethoven's ninth symphony and let out an ecstatic sigh. Hiding behind the silk curtains, clasping a butcher's knife,he waited for her to close her eyes. Blood was his sensual indulgence. Both gave debauchery their own sweet meaning.
From @teejavus:
Jude wakes up to her finger tracing his lips. "The dinner was yummy," she whispers, "now time for my dessert.". She nibbles his ear and hears him let out a soft sigh.
He pulls her closer and they exchange a passionate kiss. Everything else that followed was too overwhelming for mere words to explain.
From @anushreekejriwa: She doesn't remember to how she reached these dirty by-lanes but can clearly recall the horror of her uncle entering her at the age of four. She was blamed and lived a tainted life. As she matured she could see lust in every mans eyes and with trying circumstances she succumbed to debauchery.
From @kaloladeep:
Person1: Hey dude are you going to that party tonight?
Person2: No dude, I don't want to be a part of all that drunk drama and debauchery, which turns out to be nothing and brutal scene with no pants and shame.
Person1: Ok, then pick you at 9?
Person2: Yeah sure, 8 would work!
From @NumbYaar: He sat on twitter looking at his timeline waiting for the topic for the day’s #55wordstory. He had been quite active with the stories earlier, but he was yet to contribute since the stories resumed after a long break. Suddenly the word ‘debauchery’ appeared. 'Screw this shit' he thought. 'I’ll wait for tomorrow’s topic'.
From @neelsheth: Their smell was the scent of Marijuana; touch was his Ecstasy. Their smile gave him a high; kiss enlightened him. Melting with their bare flesh gave him cold turkey. He was addicted to them; they were his drug. It wasn't just the sensual indulgence for him; Debauchery to him was a way to attain Nirvana
From @Oven_Tikka: Her eyes glittered with excitement as she tossed back the tequila. She’d lost the number of drinks she’d had. All she wanted was raging hangover the next day, the result of a night of flamboyant, debauchery. She didn’t want to be able to think about what she was doing, walking through the monastery gates tomorrow.
From @sinpinklove: Miraya had a red box delivered at her place.A smile crossed her face.She opened it slowly. Feathers,silk ties,a blindfold,scented oil,honey,chocolates,lace , a box of her favourite flavoured condoms and two tickets to Mauritius.A wave of pleasure engulfed her as she let out a sigh.
From @AskThePankazzzz: He was always high on whatever he could burn, smoke, inject, snort or pour down his throat. Even every women he could go inside, was his dose of ecstasy. Yes, everything! To the world, it was a life of debauchery. To him, debauchery was the world. And living life any other way, a blasphemy.
From @vivekisms: On one hand he wanted it all, the fame, the riches, the greed, the sloth and the lust. On the other, all he wanted was some peace and quiet. The battle did not rage. There was no war to be fought inside the head. He knew who he would pick. The glint in his eye came back as he snorted another white line.
From @Crucifire:
He drank. He fucked. He snorted. Society wouldn't let him be. This is no place for nice guys, they had once said. Nights of intoxicated debauchery ate away at his decayed conscience.
He died of cancer weeks later. His soul was infected. A fallen angel.
From @BoozeSexSundry: I recall the involuntary pout of your lips as I feel a caress below my naval. I recall what your crookedly symmetrical teeth felt like. How your trembling body felt below me. And for everytime a client pays me by the hour, I feel like I’m one client closer to maybe seeing you again.
From @ JaajaBong: A lion knows nothing of debauchery. It is called pride. A rabid dog knows nothing of debauchery. It is called a habit. Nature knows nothing about debauchery either. It is called a fjord.
Man, however, invented debauchery to tame his own kind, fearing fierce retribution from a mysterious power he could never prove as absolute.
From @Writingchalk:
“UNNGHHHHHHHH!!!”
“HARDER! HARDER! OH YES YOU CAN DO IT!”
“PUSH! MORE!”
The grunts got louder. “MOANNNNN! COME ON! DAMN IT BITCH!”
“I’M TRYING!” “TRY HARDER!”
The legs of the bed were about to give way. “Baby, be careful."
“YES! YES! YES!”
“OKAY NOW AAAHHHHH…. YESSSSS!!!”
Shutting an over-packed suitcase had an orgasmic feel to it.
From @pallavipinakin: By the time they were done, not a hint of hope, not a whisper of love, was left. Their violence had broken all spirit. They had raped the land bare, pillaged its past, fucked its spirit, and toasted its ruin. The wreckage was complete. Their pleasure in the annihilation, in their own ruthlessness was…sheer debauchery.
From @SugarsNSpice: It was one of those wild nights. Revelry was all around. Some celebrated freedom, others’ welcomed ‘real’ life. I was giving my fare-well to naivety by indulging in debauchery. Inebriation was something that always made him lose. Today marked the beginning of his devastation, but I was incapacitated. He ruined it all, even the love.
From @bassyc: His debauchery has reached its heights. He tries his best not to dream about those nights with the ex, but in vain. He looks over the shoulder and sighs for the girl sleeping beside, unalarmed, happy, content.
From @Writoholic_Gal: It poured on her as he touched her, the touch wasn't to her body... But her soul.
He hugged her whole night, swept through her hair, kissed her... But in the morning left her a note 'I loved you, but I lied'
From @m_saik: Resting on her foam cushioned mattress, fingers holding an unlit davidoff, she sipped Jack Daniels drowning in Beethoven's ninth symphony and let out an ecstatic sigh. Hiding behind the silk curtains, clasping a butcher's knife,he waited for her to close her eyes. Blood was his sensual indulgence. Both gave debauchery their own sweet meaning.
From @teejavus:
Jude wakes up to her finger tracing his lips. "The dinner was yummy," she whispers, "now time for my dessert.". She nibbles his ear and hears him let out a soft sigh.
He pulls her closer and they exchange a passionate kiss. Everything else that followed was too overwhelming for mere words to explain.
From @anushreekejriwa: She doesn't remember to how she reached these dirty by-lanes but can clearly recall the horror of her uncle entering her at the age of four. She was blamed and lived a tainted life. As she matured she could see lust in every mans eyes and with trying circumstances she succumbed to debauchery.
From @kaloladeep:
Person1: Hey dude are you going to that party tonight?
Person2: No dude, I don't want to be a part of all that drunk drama and debauchery, which turns out to be nothing and brutal scene with no pants and shame.
Person1: Ok, then pick you at 9?
Person2: Yeah sure, 8 would work!
From @NumbYaar: He sat on twitter looking at his timeline waiting for the topic for the day’s #55wordstory. He had been quite active with the stories earlier, but he was yet to contribute since the stories resumed after a long break. Suddenly the word ‘debauchery’ appeared. 'Screw this shit' he thought. 'I’ll wait for tomorrow’s topic'.
From @neelsheth: Their smell was the scent of Marijuana; touch was his Ecstasy. Their smile gave him a high; kiss enlightened him. Melting with their bare flesh gave him cold turkey. He was addicted to them; they were his drug. It wasn't just the sensual indulgence for him; Debauchery to him was a way to attain Nirvana
From @Oven_Tikka: Her eyes glittered with excitement as she tossed back the tequila. She’d lost the number of drinks she’d had. All she wanted was raging hangover the next day, the result of a night of flamboyant, debauchery. She didn’t want to be able to think about what she was doing, walking through the monastery gates tomorrow.
From @sinpinklove: Miraya had a red box delivered at her place.A smile crossed her face.She opened it slowly. Feathers,silk ties,a blindfold,scented oil,honey,chocolates,lace , a box of her favourite flavoured condoms and two tickets to Mauritius.A wave of pleasure engulfed her as she let out a sigh.
From @AskThePankazzzz: He was always high on whatever he could burn, smoke, inject, snort or pour down his throat. Even every women he could go inside, was his dose of ecstasy. Yes, everything! To the world, it was a life of debauchery. To him, debauchery was the world. And living life any other way, a blasphemy.
From @vivekisms: On one hand he wanted it all, the fame, the riches, the greed, the sloth and the lust. On the other, all he wanted was some peace and quiet. The battle did not rage. There was no war to be fought inside the head. He knew who he would pick. The glint in his eye came back as he snorted another white line.
From @Crucifire:
He drank. He fucked. He snorted. Society wouldn't let him be. This is no place for nice guys, they had once said. Nights of intoxicated debauchery ate away at his decayed conscience.
He died of cancer weeks later. His soul was infected. A fallen angel.
From @BoozeSexSundry: I recall the involuntary pout of your lips as I feel a caress below my naval. I recall what your crookedly symmetrical teeth felt like. How your trembling body felt below me. And for everytime a client pays me by the hour, I feel like I’m one client closer to maybe seeing you again.
From @ JaajaBong: A lion knows nothing of debauchery. It is called pride. A rabid dog knows nothing of debauchery. It is called a habit. Nature knows nothing about debauchery either. It is called a fjord.
Man, however, invented debauchery to tame his own kind, fearing fierce retribution from a mysterious power he could never prove as absolute.
From @Writingchalk:
“UNNGHHHHHHHH!!!”
“HARDER! HARDER! OH YES YOU CAN DO IT!”
“PUSH! MORE!”
The grunts got louder. “MOANNNNN! COME ON! DAMN IT BITCH!”
“I’M TRYING!” “TRY HARDER!”
The legs of the bed were about to give way. “Baby, be careful."
“YES! YES! YES!”
“OKAY NOW AAAHHHHH…. YESSSSS!!!”
Shutting an over-packed suitcase had an orgasmic feel to it.
From @pallavipinakin: By the time they were done, not a hint of hope, not a whisper of love, was left. Their violence had broken all spirit. They had raped the land bare, pillaged its past, fucked its spirit, and toasted its ruin. The wreckage was complete. Their pleasure in the annihilation, in their own ruthlessness was…sheer debauchery.
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