Your erotic stories

Peter and I were had been in LA for a couple of days, staying in a cheap hotel in Venice. Mostly we hung out on the beach, which is where we met Nola, Lara and Val. They were about my age and all very cute. Nola was a white, tall brunette and had a kind of wicked attitude about her. Lara was short — about my height — with beautiful auburn hair. Val was somewhere in the middle, and a California blond.

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A hired car takes me to the door of the hotel and the driver tells me I’m expected. Upon hearing my name, the desk clerk hands me a key card and an envelope. “Top floor, the door on the left.” He looks down for baggage, and seeing none begins to blush. I smile knowingly and make my way to the room.

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Bobby Garfield was taking a walk around the property he had inherited from his grandmother. It was an old farm with a large stone farmhouse, a large wooden barn with stables underneath. It had been almost completely restored, but as a computer consultant, he had little time for country living.

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There's a standard joke when the UK is hit with cold weather - that we're utterly unable to cope. Even a sprinkling of the white stuff brings the road and rail networks virtually crashing to a halt. Schools close, people can't get to work, supermarkets are swamped by panic buyers and tabloids declare 'SNOWMAGEDDON!'

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The sunshine is peeping through the windows, I'm curled up against you, my head nestled in your shoulder, your arms wrapped around me, and one of your hands is cupping my breast. We are deep in slumber.

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She passed Fifth Street and checked her watch, right on schedule and thankfully the crossing light was on her side this morning so she eased across the intersection without having to stop. Music from her IPod spurred her on as she rounded the corner on Jackson Avenue, in the home stretch now. The warm early May morning sun at her back, she could see the entrance to the building at the end of the city block and urged herself to push a little harder.

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Jane sat at her office desk nervously looking at the package that the Fed-Ex man had just delivered. Checking her watch she moved a few papers around without studying them before jumping at the sound of her mobile phone bleeping at her. Slowly she opened it.

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Looking around the room, she made sure the candles were in place. So many colors, shapes and sizes, yet they fit with the décor, adding a hint of mysterious shadow in one spot while dispelling shadows in another. Colors, blending with orchids arranged amid baby's breath, complementing framed artwork hanging above them, enhancing deep rich hues of hanging drapery and reflecting off gleaming woodwork, each had its place and was ready for the match.

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She stood outside the large door. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Out of sheer will, she raised her arm to the door. The anticipation of seeing MasterDarkHeart, of being with him, played havoc with her body. This was not their first time together, but tonight had special meaning.

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Feeling that deep thrill, that slow burn that seems to consume, that long deep obsession with being worshiped. I have him on his knees now, he is complacent, docile....he is submissive. It was not always this way. We began with a completely old fashioned relationship, with no power exchange. We were blind to the Ecstasy of submission, innocent of the line between pleasure and pain.

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