Your erotic stories

18 year olds, Phillip mused, were much easier to talk into sexual experimentation than any other legal age. Perhaps once they turned 19 they'd had enough perverse encounters with dirty old men (by which he meant 35, which wasn't all that old -- unless, of course, you were 18) to be slightly more jaded. But 18... ah luscious, innocent 18 with all it's bend-a-bility and flexibility in both mind and body.

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After a long hard and frustrating day at the office, I often enjoy stopping by the local pub to cool my frustrations. Today it didn't work. The phone had rung non stop for what seemed like an eternity. Every call was someone bitching about this or bitching about that. So to say the least my frustration level was at its peak. All I really wanted to do was tell them all where to go.

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Just another day really, nothing special to begin with. We had been in through the morrning, and we'd been out in the afternoon. We'd done some shopping for the flat, had a few giggles, a little bit off teasing and some playful jokes but now we were back. I had made a cup of tea for myself, a coffee for him, with a biscuit on the side. Every inch the happy domestic scene, but isn't it always the case that you only hear the 'something's going to happen' music in bad movies?

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I stand back, admiring the view before me. You lay, sprawled on your stomach, in a spread-eagle position, completely open, completely vulnerable. Each wrist and ankle is tied securely to a bed post with a length of red silken rope. Although the knots are tied tightly, and you are unable to escape, with a quick tug, each rope will come free in an emergency.

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Karen smoothed the sexy black nightie over her hips. She had been so embarrassed when she bought the nightie at a sex shop downtown. The nightie was sheer black silk with lace over her small, pretty breasts going down into a deep "V" past her belly button. The lace teased her sensitive nipples making them jut out. The hem of the flouncy skirt just barely covered her irresistible rounded ass. She wanted to pull the hem down but it bounced right back up.

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They had an incredible relationship. Tricia had only known this man a short time, but there wasn't a thing she would deny him. He awakened so many feelings long ago forgotten. Tricia was far from insecure, success had found it's way into her life more than once. Blessed long ago with intelligence and charm, now only her beauty surpassed her charismatic personality. She set about carving out a career for herself once in the ranks of the gainfully employed.

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Bethany hated Valentines day with a passion. As a child, plain and unpopular, she had resented this awful holiday which seemed to involve immature boys chasing girls with chocolates, cards and posies... every girl but her, anyway. She had grown up, and in college the guys had begun to notice her occasionally, but even then she hated Valentine's day - she saw it as a pathetic excuse for losers to try to use corny one-liners on the assumption that "the season" would make her respond. Fat chance.

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Tommy still wasn't sure whether he was awake or dreaming. All he knew was that he was naked, and the thick tentacles were gently lowering him down towards the soft bank of waving cilia that formed the centre of the anemone. The multi-coloured, pale-tipped cilia seemed to have a faint aura glowing about them, which was soothing to Tommy's eyes.

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It was almost 4:00 when I finally got away from the office and headed home. This in itself wasn't remarkable except I had planned on leaving early in the afternoon. I had wanted to get home early and surprise my wife. Oh well, the best laid plans... I picked up my cell phone to call Stacey and let her know I would be home in about 30 minutes or so. She answered the phone on the first ring. "Hi, Honey, what's up?" I asked cheerfully.

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Was that the door bell? I asked myself as I continued to wash my hair in the shower. There it was again, it was indeed. It must be after 10.30 I thought as I climbed out of the shower and grabbed the large towel hanging on the rail. Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, the door bell rang insistently. Just my luck I thought, with Mary away fro the weekend there was no-one here to get the door for me.

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