Your erotic stories

Stanley Montrieth III rushed into my office, "Oh my God, I did it. I actually did it. I shagged all these beauties in a pool on my own desert island!" His curly, ginger hair was more unruly than usual and his face was flushed with excitement and exhilaration. I knew, he'd been working on something exciting and it looked like he was ready to tell me at long last.

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Sam knew. "Who?" was all he asked. I didn't have to ask what he meant. "My new partner." Department regulations strictly prohibited fraternization between fellow officers. Fuck your partner, and you're not going to put your head out there in front. You have to think, not lust, or you end up dead. Toll collecting's a dangerous business these days, what with anarchy only a hair's breadth away.

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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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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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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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Ah my beautiful slave, Here we are – one of our favorite places – you astride the workout bench dressed in your tight black corset – breasts pushed up for my pleasure – nipples with their clamps on – pretty gold chain dangling between them with your clit clamp and chain attached to your nipple chain.

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Julie lay back into the car's seat, closing her eyes and relaxing into the ride home. The night out had been just what she needed after a long week; Jay had done well distracting her from thoughts of work. Their favorite restaurant had again come through with a great meal. They'd had just enough wine, lovely dessert, and stimulating conversation. But though the pleasant hours had repressed her ill mood, she now wanted a good night's sleep to escape the frustrations the work week had wrought. Climbing into bed, passing out and waking up to a lazy Saturday... That's what she needed.

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Vanessa stood patiently as the maid tugged the straps of her dress tight. She watched in the mirror as the clear vinyl clung to her body, tightly wrapping around her curves. As the last strap was finally adjusted perfectly she turned and examined her reflection.

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"Now you've got yourself into a bind." I snorted softly. It was a very unladylike sound, but at the moment, the only thing I could think about was what would happen next. Had he really read between the lines of all of our Emails? The online chats? The late night phone calls? Maybe I should have been more subtle. That's what all the magazines said, right? Guys needed to be told what to do.

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The name's Jack Wayne. I'm a private detective. It all began on a sweltering Friday in June. I was sitting behind my desk thumbing through a paperback of "9 & 1/2 Weeks" and sipping a glass of bourbon when my secretary stuck her head into the office. "Hey, Jack." she said in an annoying tone. "Jack, put the book down for a minute!"

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