Your erotic stories

The room is dark, floors are bare but for a square carpet in the middle.... it is this, most likely oriental. Your steps echo across the room. You travel the walls, lighting fat candles as you go, and soon the room is bathed in a flickering light. Simple, but you don't need much to do your work.A knock at the door and a girl, short, tan skin, short dark hair and begging brown eyes is dragged in by her collar.

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It had been a long week. I had started work on Monday having to deal with crises that had started as soon as I left on Friday, and the fires had just gotten bigger as the week went on. I was really looking forward to getting home, having a few drinks, and just relaxing. All I needed to do first was stop and pick up some food from the grocery store.

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Eva's work at her previous job, a beach club in eastern Florida called The Wizard, had ended abruptly and full of embarrassment when she found herself trapped on a ladder being exposed to horny drunk men. Departing her job, Eva barely said farewell to her coworkers, assuming that people were laughing at her unusual predicament. In fact, many of Eva's coworkers felt that Eva left because her boss had pushed her too hard.

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It was the first time we met. I was nervous and scared, with a small ball of anxiety low in my stomach. Once or twice I started to turn back, all the niggling doubts in the back of my mind rushing forward. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasn't what I wanted. Could I handle it? What if it was too much, too intense, too overwhelming? And the worst doubt of all: what if you were disappointed?

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The steady beat of an axe on wood echoed through the forest, loud in the absence of animals. It was foreign here, the first sounds of a long train of newcomers. It was wrong. For thousands of years the animals and their kin had run these lands, living in harmony with the forests and rivers that ran through it. Now man was coming, and with man came change. With man came war. With man, inevitably, would come death.

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I write for a living. I don't have any great pretensions to be famous, I know my place in literature and it's not near the top of the tree. I write spanking stories for magazines like Paddles, Blush, Cane and Red Cheeks. Not exactly mind bending stuff but I enjoy spanking and I enjoy writing about spanking. I'm happy doing what I'm doing.

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Missy is "a giver" - happy to help out, to run an errand, to pitch in when times are tough or just to sit and listen when all that is needed is a shoulder to cry on and the reassurance that one is in the right. That generous nature has its fullest expression when Missy loves. The men in her past life unexpectedly found little bags of their favorite snacks in their brief cases.

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It began at dinner. The humor and banter of table conversation was punctuated by her meaningful glances and significant smiles. She wove her emotional cocoon around his mind slowly and carefully, channeling the conversation in the direction she sought, teasing and seducing him with voice as well as words.

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Anne was just approaching 30, she had struggled her way through a number of jobs before joining Fulcrum. She had trained as a nurse, worked in a hospital, then an old peoples home in her quest to find herself something which enabled her to work and help other people.

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He was just an online fuck buddy. I have maybe thirty on my IM. When my husband is at work or when he's just not scratching that itch I can get online and be sure that one or two of them will be online and ready to talk dirty to me, to play to my fantasies or to watch me on cam as I make myself cum harder than I ever could alone. He was just one of many.

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