Your erotic stories

There they were. The Barbie Dolls. The bleached-blond, silicon-enhanced, daddy's-credit-card-endowed, anorectic airheads, aka the Popular Girls, aka the Cheerleaders. They took their seats at a table in the cafeteria, chittering loudly about the upcoming prom. Dresses, corsages, limos, dates…

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Ralph and Jill were getting ready to leave the party at a friends house. They had been there for many hours, drinking, dancing and just having fun. They were both a bit horney and they wanted to get home and fuck. Five other couples were there, all people they knew from work. Three of the couples were married, the others were living together. Everyone had been dancing with each others dates, flirting and enjoying the teasing. The lights were very dim so you could hardly see who you were holding.

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We've been down the pub again with some of your stupid workmates and their tart girlfriends. After three hours we're all halfway drunk and I've had enough of having my arse pinched and tits squeezed by boozy-breathed oversized rednecks. I stub out a cigarette and give you the eye. You've been leering down the dress of your mate's girlfriend at her pushed up tits. You'd be disappointed if you ever got her bra off, 'cos they'd fall down to her belly button.

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Her Mistress was angry. She couldn't remember what she had done, but she was being punished for it now. She was blindfolded and placed on the edge of a stool. Her wrists locked onto either side of a three-foot dowel, hoisted above her head and stretched until her shoulders ached. Her legs were cuffed at the thigh and tied to the wall behind her so that her sex was exposed and opened.

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When I write my stories, I am concerned with one an only one thing - trying to create a mood of tenderness and longing. Sometimes I probably over do it. And I end up getting into such heightened state, I get really worked-up - and I write most of the really "haunted" love stuff when I am right on the edge. When I re-read my stories, I can tell that parts were created in that shaky mind space.

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As I have mentioned in an earlier story ("Teaching Kaci"), I worked as a professor of English at a small but expensive New England college for about thirty years. The college had a mandatory policy of "retirement at 65", but I had decided to take mine about five years before that. My wife had died of cancer some years earlier, and I wanted to spend what remained of my life doing some traveling. I even thought about the idea of moving to Paris if I could get a small apartment.

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Every Christmas Eve we have at my In-laws. My wife is from a huge family and has 8 siblings, which you can guess has a lot of kids. So every year that is the only time I really drink to deal with that many people. This time was no different, I had already downed a couple of beers and my wife decided we would stay in the guest room so we didn't have to drive home.

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There were two levels of life in the year 2356, in the former capital cities. In one level you were wealthy and well off. Life was provided by high-paying jobs and low taxes. Life was one long game that you struggled to satisfy yourself with using sex or entertainment. The slave industry was alive and well, buying healthy eggs from the starving inhabitants of another life to clone new humans.

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During my speech she had caught my eye, a blonde bombshell in the front row. Was it just me, or was she licking her lips at me? Her massive cleavage spilled out of her white, unbuttoned-at-the-top shirt like two giant balls of vanilla candy... I could nearly see straight up her oh-so-short, classy, black miniskirt... Did I catch a glimpse of some sky-blue panties? Or even half of a pussy lip or two peeking out from behind the fabric? I nearly forgot what I was saying in my speech...

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The whip laid into Valerie's back with a vengeance. Blood flipped off the end of the whip to create a splatter pattern on he wall behind the creature wielding the instrument of torture. More blood streamed down the nearly dead woman's back from the open wounds on her back; more appearing each time the savage whip laid into her with a loud crack.

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