Your erotic stories

The slip of imported paper shook in his hand as he stood waiting for the elevator. Shaking hands were something he had gotten used to on the drive to Bal Harbor, his mind cluttered with thoughts that she wouldn’t be there, that he wouldn’t be on time; or even worse, that she would be and he would be prompt.

read more

It started innocently enough I just never thought it would go as far as it did. I became acquainted with Suzanne through a popular erotic story website. In my spare time I write erotic fiction and Suzanne provided feedback on a few stories I wrote. She said she like my stores and wanted to know when I was writing more.

read more

"I've got an important project for you Rebecca," Mrs. Stone said. Finally, a real project, Rebecca thought. She had accepted a job as Mrs. Stone's PA after becoming unemployed. The pay was good. The hours were horrible. And Mrs. Stone was very demanding. Most managers didn't expect to work personal assistants like they did in the old day. But, Mrs. Stone did. She wanted coffee.

read more

Frankie, the girl who waxed Mistress Vixen so beautifully had no idea of Vixen's profession. She saw a striking, powerful woman who dressed simply and elegantly and assumed that she was some sort of corporate executive. Like a number of similar, if not quite so formidable looking women, who looked after their bodies, Vixen used a lot of the spa's services. Some of them also chose to have a Brazilian wax. There was no reason to think that this quiet, relaxed client was particularly out of the ordinary.

read more

Yes, I'm a masseur but let me get one thing straight right from the start. I am fully qualified in both sports and relaxation massage. I do not ever give a sexy massage to any of my clients, well almost never. I do have a few ladies who have been coming to me on a regular basis who talked me into masturbating them to orgasm at the end of a massage.

read more

"Emma I want you to begin your education, your training. I want you to stay with Mistress Louise for a few days. You have things to learn." I looked at the floor. I knew he was right but scared that he didn't think I was good enough. I knew I had to - it was only training. Things I hadn't done, things I could practice, to be better for him. He wanted me to be his pleasure slave.

read more

"Oh My god...rebecca," He breathes, stunned as she enters the room, absolutely enthralling in nothing but a lacy black bra, a very short catholic schoolgirl's skirt, and a pair of knee-high dark-brown boots. Her skin is creamy and pale, a luscious backdrop for the sexy outfit she had worn for Him. Her hair is long and dark, hanging free, the ends of which brush the tops of her breasts, which peek teasingly from their lacy confines.

read more

Synopsis; 'Plain Janes' are not always as they seem – some have been tutored by relatives who lurk in the background, waiting to receive those caught in a contrived web. Jane Whistler's appearance was that of a well groomed, prim and clean living girl. At 30, she appeared to have been left on the shelf. She rarely socialised, other than to indulge her workmates on rare occasions – she was rarely asked to dance by the males as she was considered to be flat, a bit fat- not like the beanpole women that the 'blokes' seemed to lust after-and very plain.

read more

She knew she shouldn't be out. It was late, nearly midnight already. The full moon glowed high in the sky, illuminating the path in front of her in the hazy shades of silver and blue~fae light she'd always heard it called. She sighed and moved gracefully along the path. She knew it so well now, traveled it as often as she could, as often as nature allowed.

read more

I got dressed as provocatively and with the sluttiest make-up that I could manage without looking like a transsexual, slipped on my heels and tottered my way to the interview. They had been so secretive, and I amused myself by twiddling with my cellphone and imagining things they would give me to do.

read more