Your erotic stories

Kaden walked in the door without a smile on his face. "Take that off," He ordered, pointing to my towel. I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard a knock at the door. He pulled the smaller towel from my hair and dropped it to the floor. The cool beads hit my warm back with the nearly twenty inches of thick, moist hair and rolled to my bottom.

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I've known Mary's parents for thirty years. That's a year before she was born. When she started to come on to me one night in the bar, I was startled to say the least. Startled but flattered since I'm close to twice her age. "Why don't you ever flirt with me?" Mary asked out of the blue. I thought a moment and then replied, "I've know you all of your life and I know your parents. I changed your diapers."

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Warning! This story includes very heavy BDSM, rough sex, anal fucking and other nasty stuff. As usual there is also a romance but it is secondary to the stroke. Another caveat: I don't write with a dictionary or a thesaurus at my side. I use words which are familiar to me---words I use in daily conversation. I am not writing stories for children. If you are the persistent anonymous poster who wishes I would use smaller words so that you can understand them, just give me a zero and move on without comment.

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Friday night. I am secured in a standing position, naked and spread eagled. My ankles are secured to a spreader bar, my hands to restraints attached to new hooks she has attached to the ceiling. My wife's mouth surrounds but does not touch my pulsating cock. I tighten my groin muscles to make contact. She pulls away. "Bad boy!" She reaches down for her riding crop and slaps mildly at my balls, stretched and separated by a leather cock ring.

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Malek pushed open the great oak doors to the main hall, as if they were made of paper, despite them being over twenty feet high and over five inches thick. Sofia glanced in the direction of the noise and saw him standing at the door. The blue moon cast a shadow of his silhouette, as the reverberations of the boom were sent to the very foundations of the mansion.

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My name is Alexander Demkakova, but my friends just call me Alex. I am from the Czech Republic formerly known as Czechoslovakia. We lived just outside Prague, where my Dad and Mom both worked. When my story begins I am in sunny Southern California far from the dreariness that enveloped the land of my youth. In California I live in Westwood where I attend the University of California in Los Angeles, most of you know it as UCLA.

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Maggie Buchanan sped down Route 7 south of Lenox, the sun hovering just above the Berkshire hills, a simmering coral glow spreading through the summer sky. The old Mustang convertible, fire-orange like the sun, raced recklessly towards dusk. Maggie felt herself leaning into the corners with her old car, taking them too fast, as usual. She always drove too fast in this car. She couldn't help herself.

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Yesterday. Oh for the Gods yesterday. The drive down there was so intense once again. My foot sensing my desire and anticipation easing its way towards the floor again and again. My mind struggling with these same desires forcing my foot to lift time and time again. Control is all at these times, and yet it is so hard to get a hold of when it is pure anticipation.

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It had started as a playful exchange online, but each seemed to know the rules and what was expected. The inevitable meeting 'for coffee' had been eagerly anticipated by each and the time spent in each others company had been as expected; polite, amicable, flirtatious and with a building tension of expectancy.

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"Damn it all, why cancel tonight of all nights?" She slammed the phone back on its cradle. "Friday night, new shoes, shaved my legs and everything, and the bastard cancels last minute. Men!" Amy had been looking forward to going out, to alleviate the monotony, get away from the rut she had been in for so long. All of a sudden it was another Friday night just so many others...

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