Your erotic stories

She lies there on the bed, bound and in such ecstasy. Her body quivers as He watches her. She feels his eyes gaze upon her and as she lies with her eyes closed, the throbbing and desire flows through her.

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I heard the car's engine shut down and frantically rushed to be in kneeling position beside the front door. My wife, Stacy, entered the moment I'd assumed the required pose, eyes downcast and hands clasped behind my neck. She was in relatively good humor tonight, cheerily saying, "Hello, pet. Have you been waiting long?"

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It was 5:30 Thursday afternoon when Roger Hancock walked into Megan Bishop's office. "Yes, Roger?" she said to her 28 year-old mailroom clerk, not even looking up from her work. "I thought you'd left for the day." Miss Bishop had everything a woman could want -- money, power, good looks, great figure. She was president of The Bishop Company, doing what was generally perceived as a stellar job running the business she'd inherited from her father.

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Nancy walked along the path overlooking the ocean. The morning mist obscured the view of the blue sea which stretches far beyond the horizon on a clear day. All that was visible in the fog was the Hopewell Rocks. These giant stone monoliths rise from the beach floor to a height of over thirty five meters. The rocks tower over the seascape below.

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We were in the Capitol. Jonathan was the Captain again, and it was the Captain who pushed me none-too-gently out of the carriage, and I stumbled and fell and scraped my shoulder on the pavement, and he pulled me up by my elbow and marched me into the courthouse. I had been to the Capitol several times, but I'd never seen any of the courthouses, although I knew that each district had one.

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I was at my professional peak, but single and unattached. My profession is a jealous mistress, demanding constant attention, but paying rich dividends to her ardent worshippers. I had very volatile sexual urges but remained celibate through adolescence with the help of pornography and later on with the net. I was wary of women and my sexual preferences became more defined. As a professional I was aggressive and was clothed in the aura of aggressiveness.

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"Babe the reservation is for 7pm, hurry up and get ready" she snapped. I had been working a lot lately, so much so that I always seemed tired and rarely payed enough attention to her. We had only been dating a handful of months. One day while working out I had spotted her on the tread mill. With every step her body seemed to move and shake in the most perfect ways.

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Peggy peered out into the room, her eyes squinting from the stage lights as she realized she was back in the same amphitheatre style room where, a short while ago, she and her friends had been drinking and telling stories. She had wondered why the seats were elevated above the stage as she watched the D.J. play requests from the crowd. Now standing half naked with her arms restrained against the wall and a ball gag stuffed into her mouth, she knew why the room was arranged in this manner.

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You stand before me, hands behind your back, awaiting instruction attentively. I gesture in a way you understand. You unhook your bra, slide off your panties and hand them to me. I inhale the warm undergarments, kiss them, then set them aside. I step closer, grip you firmly by your upper arms and lower my head onto your throat, just under your collar.

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It's been one day since you touched me. You came home from work today, ate a quick dinner and went immediately to your study, shutting the door behind you. Several hours later, my tentative knock is met with, "Go to bed, pet." I hoped that you would wake me when you came to bed, but you did not and the next morning, you left without awakening me.

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