Your erotic stories

A little before eight PM, the phone rang. I picked it up and said, "Hello." On the other end of the line, a breathy female voice asked, "Can I speak to Rad, please?" Rad is my internet name and a pen name I use when I write erotica. Very few people know that name and the few who do, know my real name. "Uh, this is Randy, can I help you?" There was a short silence and then a throaty laugh. "If you are the one that wrote the wonderful sexy stories I found, then you can do almost anything to me or with me that you like."

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i wonder, Sir... What if we had the opportunity to meet somewhat regularly and each session went beautifully for both of us? What if i waited for you in a lovely hotel room one summer evening? What if i put on the little blue plaid mini-skirt and white blouse, white stockings, and little lace bra and panties you'd left for me, and put my hair up in a nice ponytail, as you'd requested?

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Going through emails was normally quite tedious when you owned a website. Joseph's website, however, was a niche site that only attracted specific viewers, so the emails he received were very specific, and much more interesting.

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She sat with a glass of red wine listening to slow instrumental songs. She was remembering the past with her ex-girlfriend, Pria, the girl she had arranged to see today. They had quite a fiery relationship, and even though they seemed to hate each other now, they still had a passion between them. Danielle dropped her head into her hands as she sighed deeply, trying to think of how she would handle this conversation.

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I sensed her controlling presence as soon as I entered the room. It was like a force field around her, something that I could instinctively feel but from which nothing could be seen. First I tried to ignore it, thinking it came from my overactive imagination. Eventually, it started to overwhelm me. It intoxicated me like too many drinks at a party, making me do things I otherwise would never have dreamed of doing.

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Becky bends over, leans into Paul's ear. "It's stuffy in here," she says. "Let's go for a walk." Paul looks up and watches her retreat around the coffee table. He pardons himself to his two bookend sofa-mates – the gregarious Auntie Lou and the diametric Grandma Claire, a stick with permanently down-turned lips and hardened scowl. Paul is relieved to escape her still life painting.

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So, here's a story you perhaps don't hear every day. It's a true story, but it has a couple of layers, so allow me to explain some of the moving parts. I'll try not to ramble too much so we can get to the juicy stuff. My name is Max and this happened to me. Sometimes I still can't believe how it all played out. I work at a small business in the hospitality industry.

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Let me help you understand my views on this. Dom/sub relationships are not about the bondage or the spanking or calling one Sir - or the other any sort of pet names - but it more on the way that two people interact. There are some assumptions that can be made - but then while interacting - no assumptions should be made - that is where you need to find out your partner.

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"There," she thought, admiring herself in the mirror. A cross stood out proudly on her chest, executed in black, cloth tape, the arms of the adhesive crucifix covering much of her breasts, the rest extending down her sternum to her belly. She adjusted her Catholic-school skirt, and reached for the makeshift headpiece with which she completed her revealing nun's habit.

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Jack wasn't sure what kind of surprise his partner, Austin Rhodes, had in store for him after their shift ended that evening. He never should have agreed to go along with whatever Austin had planned. Jack Morgan didn't much care for surprises, and Austin had been tight-lipped all day, answering all of Jack's inquiries with, "Trust me, you'll like this surprise!"

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