Your erotic stories

"So, what did you have in mind?" you ask with a coy smile. I thought about the evening out from which we just returned. The kids were away for the night. We had been flirting and teasing each other all night, and I could feel the sexual tension between us. I knew you could feel it too. I could see it in the way you had been looking at me. In the way you slowly unbuttoned your heavy coat when we walked through the door, one button at a time, watching me until it was open and you let it drop to a chair.

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The soft creaking of leather and almost musical clinking of chains filled his ears, but behind that was another nearly constant sound. Quiet, almost barely voiced moaning and whispered pleadings, punctuated with gasps of pleasure or pain. It was all dark for Andrew, the supple leather covering his eyes effectively cutting out even the smallest glimpses of light, but he knew full well where he was.

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Eleanor Martin sat naked on the toilet seat, waiting for the results from the ovulation test strip. This was the ninth day in a row she had used the kit, and so far she hadn't tested positive. The thirty nine year old housewife was beginning to grow frustrated. She and her Husband Robert had been trying to have a baby for over fifteen years without any success.

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Money had been tight for some time now and at 35 Jamie felt helpless in fending off the bill collectors calling each day. Her husband Tom had lost a good job some time back and was now skimming along on a mediocre wage with a smaller company.

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It's been a long day and I should feel tired but I don't. Not at all. In fact, I've been anticipating seeing Her all day and the thoughts running through my mind seem to energize me. Thoughts of Her, thoughts of Her beautiful face looking upon me, Her gorgeous body standing over me, Her sweet voice as She says my name. God I love it when She says my name! I want to see Her so badly I don't want to stop but I happen to see a field full of wild flowers by the side of the road.

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I had been in your service for only a few months when you decided you wanted a permanent marking of some kind to denote me as yours when I was in the company of others. You considered your decision completely knowing full well the decision you made would effect me forever. That is the beauty of a master/slave relationship. It is more than a possession.

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After fifteen years of marriage, I had noticed a sudden decline in the frequency of sex with my wife, Lyn. This had happened over the three weeks or so. Until then, although we were conventional, it was satisfying for both of us – or so I thought. Now, it had become the usual story of “I’m so tired, I just want to go to sleep.”

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My life is very simple. Clients want someone dead, they pay me, I make the person dead. I would like to tell you I have a code of honor. I would like to tell you I don't kill women or children, but I am not a liar. I have killed women and would have no moral problem with killing a child. The subject has never come up.

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Annabella was just arriving back to school after her winter break. She'd been home visiting family in Arizona. She loved her family, and it had been nice seeing everyone together. Moving away for college had been a very difficult transition for her. Bella, as her friends called her, was a good girl -- honest, caring and considerate. Now that she was on her own, she found it unnerving taking control of her own life.

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She stands there completely nude, holding the wide black leather collar between her breasts. The buckle is a heavy gauge steel as is the large cold ring affixed to its front which dangles down toward her smooth shaved groin. Her eyes are closed and she can smell the leather mixed with her own scent from the last time she wore this collar several days earlier.

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