Your erotic stories

I feel ridiculous; underdressed and overly aware of how much glitter is on my face. "Come out," Maddy had said. "It'll be fun," Tiff had said. "It'll be good for you," Amber had added. "You have to get out of that dark dungeon of despair you've condemned yourself too," I had said to myself.

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She pulled into the driveway. It had been a long day. Longer still because he hadn't remembered. Turning off the car, she sighed. He had always been so attentive. So thoughtful. How could he have forgotten? She leaned against the steering wheel, remembering their first conversation.

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Mike read the terse text message from his wife Sunny. She was working late, yet again, and had texted not to ask how his day went, but to demand he take care of dinner plans. Again. A second text amended the list: feed the dog, take all the trash out and start washing her work clothes. Sunny had been a real bitch lately, and he was getting tired of dealing with it. He knew part of it was hormonal.

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I arrived home late once again from my tiring job as a car salesman. It'd been a shitty day since I didn't sell even one car and I was looking forward to coming home to my lovely wife Jennifer. She knew I'd been having a bad week so I hoped she'd be kind to me that Friday night. Once I opened the door I felt my blood boiling.

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i sat nervously sipping coffee and trying to eat a muffin, in the small outdated hotel lobby. business men came and went, with barely a glance at me, but the desk clerk seemed much too interested in my top. my breasts swayed back and forth in my low-neck shirt, unbound as my Master had required. and i felt as self-conscious about that as the thought of whatever else would be required of me this morning.

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She stopped outside the door and read the number. She pulled the paper out of her bag. Yes the numbers matched. Pulling out a compact she inspected her make up. She smeared on a new thick layer of the blood red lipstick and pouted at the image looking back at her. Thick make up, heavy eyeliner and mascara made her look more like a mannequin than a live person.

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She sat at her desk in her home office with her glasses perched on her nose as she thoughtfully studied the screen of her laptop. Her fingers were linked together and resting under her chin, except her index fingers which were pressed to her lips. Her brow was crinkled and she released a frustrated sigh, picking up her pen and jotting some notes on the paper at her side.

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I sat staring at the figures. I'd gone over them three times with the same results. It seemed hard to believe. But it was on my calculator again in those luminous green numbers. There was a knock on my door. "Yeah"

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It had been a small gathering in Jinx's studio apartment. We had been sitting on Jinx's large four poster bed. When the ohers left, I stayed behind to say my goodbyes to Jinx, because this was the fist time I had met her. The four poster had been intriguing me. I had been looking at the carving at the foot , and I was intrigued. "Er---ropes?" I asked..

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The booth. We'd talked about it and joked about it. We even called it his "cage". He hated it and yet spent every day there, in a dull job, doing dull things and waiting on dull people. I had teased him mercilessly while he was in there, forcing him to wait on customers with raging erections, even gotten him so aroused that he had willingly come in his pants and had to sit there, the rest of the day, with that sticky, cooling reminder of what I could do. And now...here it was.

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