Your erotic stories

The predicted storm for the weekend came in earlier than expected. As Beth ran toward her apartment she got caught in the heavy torrent of freezing rain. She was relieved to have the week behind her and anticipated a boring weekend alone and mostly stuck at home with all the bad weather that was coming her way. The forecast was for continued stormy weather over the weekend.

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Several months after I had parted from Jeff and a few weeks after my experience with Lionel (recounted in Chapter 15) three things happened virtually simultaneously. Firstly my wife, in a regular phone call with our daughter, told her that her lover was ill and being taken to hospital. I was not sorry for him, indeed I hoped that he would soon be dead, but I was sorry to think of the anxiety it would cause her. The second thing that happened gave me a shock.

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It was hot as hell, and I still had three more lawns to mow. It was the drawback to making most of my summer money doing yardwork. Graduation was only a few weeks behind me, and college and its expenses loomed ominously over my head. Fortunately, I was going to a local school, but I still had a commute, and books were going to kill me. Anyhow, I'd started early that morning, as soon as the dew was out of the grass, but after two yards already, it was just after noon and the sun pounded down.

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The deadline was next week. Alex needed a reasonably good first draft into the committee by then or his tenure would definitely be in jeopardy. His academic career depended upon pulling this off and he wasn't sure it was possible. The scholarly work is solid. I'm sure of that, he thought. What is missing is proof that the ancient cults have relevance in today's psyche. Furthermore, I am the last person on earth capable of following through on the practical research. Why do I think I can find it here?

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The atmosphere was amazing. I had never seen so beautiful a Mistress with such submissive male slaves as we had tonight. The performance in the under-ground club was electric as the Mistress showed us how devoted her sluts were. I must admit that watching them was fascinating, almost like seeing a male image of myself as they craved the pain and humiliation she dished out. One soft stroke of her hand against their skin, one quiet word of praise. made it all worthwhile to them. But they took so much; I was completely in awe of them.

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Jane sat at her office desk nervously looking at the package that the Fed-Ex man had just delivered. Checking her watch she moved a few papers around without studying them before jumping at the sound of her mobile phone bleeping at her. Slowly she opened it.

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Wow what a party. When I married my wife I had no idea who else I was actually "marrying". My wife's family it turned out really liked a good party. My wife had a mother that wanted everybody to have a good time and often ran the family functions with a theme. I have no idea why it was done like this, but my wife's family interpretation of a pirates theme was for most of the women to dress like wenches and it was pretty shocking! My three sisters-in-law were all there along with a bunch of cousins my age.

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I don't remember my first months at the convent. They say it was trauma amnesia. I was 7 years old when I was left there after my parents were killed in a car accident. I can not complain about the life I had there. It was better then an orphanage. The sisters taught me everything that a girl should know. Cooking, cleaning, and traditional education. I grew up knowing I was loved. It was my eighteenth birthday when Mother Superior sat me down to explain that it was time for me to leave.

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She first saw him working outside. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but it appeared he was checking some wires that connected to the back of the house. From a distance, she could see he wore a uniform of standard-issue work pants and a clean, collared shirt. His back was turned to her, giving her a nice view, and when he leaned down she scolded herself for letting her eyes travel downward. Brushing aside her wanton thoughts as the distractions to which she had only recently grown accustomed, she decided to ask him what he was doing, since it was her house he was kneeling behind.

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I can still remember the first time I asked her if I could do it. I had always had a fascination for tasting my own semen, you see. My wife Megan had indulged me certain levels of satisfaction in this matter but refused to let me give her oral after sex. She said it was "gross".

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