Your erotic stories

I step into the room, excited, barely able to catch my breath with the anticipation. I stand for a moment in the doorway, both to give to you the chance of taking in my appearance, and so compose myself. I want to present a cool, calm, controlled front, not to betray how excited I am. I am dressed in a leather jacket with leather trousers and tight, thick leather gloves.

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The car arrives promptly at 09.30 hours, as stated on the card she had opened when she rose that morning. Sara has her small handbag with her, a light coat, and nothing else. Dressed smartly in a blouse and knee length skirt she closes and locks the front door, making her way down the path on sensible 2 inch heels, sheer stockings swishing together as she approaches the sleek black Mercedes that awaits her. A liveried chauffeur steps from the car and opens the rear door as she approaches.

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Nancy, this is not right. I need the graph to the right of the text not centered above it, and the spacing is way off. Try using a ½ inch margin. I want this down to one page.” “Yes, Ms. Buchanan. I’m right on it.” Laura Buchanan turned her back on her faithful secretary and headed back to her office, when she heard…

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"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry." His voice was a soft rush as he apologized for letting the door of the shop close on her, banging her hand in it. He grabbed her hand in his and held it firmly. "I didn't realize you were behind me. I'm so oblivious." He rubbed her hand between his, as he would his own if he'd hurt it. She felt a little jolt of electricity race up her arm and looked up into his bright blue eyes. Another jolt raced down her body. She was sure they had never met before but he seemed strangely familiar.

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"Mistress LF Slave Boy. W4M, 18-28" was the title of the Craigslist add. Trey, a 25 year old beta male, had taken to perusing various personals listings. He wasn't much of a bar kind of guy, nor did he know much about how to go out and meet women. Sifting through the postings mostly made by men Trey had managed to come across several listings by women that seemed potentially promising. Unfortunately he'd never gotten the nerve to actually try and contact one of the listing parties.

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Nickelle stretched as she woke up and reached for her robe. It wasn't there. She sat up and looked around the room confused. She rubbed her eyes to completely wake up, and slowly slipped out of bed. Nickelle had always slept totally nude, so she knew that she had hung her robe on the bedpost before she went to sleep. She searched around the room but it wasn't anywhere.

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Chapter One A piercing clap of thunder shook the darkened room. The storm outside couldn't have been scripted any better by a Hollywood writer. Annalise shuddered as a chill passed through her body. She could feel her nipples stiffen, and not just from the chill. She had been waiting for him to come back since he had tied her spread eagled on the bed over a half hour ago.

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Raven walked up the front steps to the house. She looked at the piece of paper in her hand, confirming the address. It was a very ordinary house, on a very ordinary street. Only the fact that heavy drapes covered all the windows suggested that it was other than a typical suburban home.

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You check the mirror for the last time. The blue slut top. The collar and fishnets. The heels look good. And the riding crop feels at home in your hand. You're ready for him now. As you leave the bedroom and make your way to where he is waiting, you find an anger you didn't know you had welling up inside.

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As Lorraine walked up the steps of the mansion for Andrew's one o'clock lesson, she could hear him butchering Beethoven's "Für Elise" in a way so awful it had to be intentional. Sure enough, the musical carnage soon ended in a burst of raucous laughter followed by the sound of several people slamming their hands down on the keyboard—all in all a forced, nasty sound.

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