Your erotic stories

Since I have been with my Master we have explored many limits and why I have them. One activity I have struggled with for a long time is due to past abuse from my ex-husband Dick, anal sex has not been an easy boundary for me to have tested.

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Susan Bloom thought she knew her husband Ron as well as anyone could ever know another human being. She and Ron had met when they were still just teenagers and had got married at 20 just over ten years ago. As with most marriages they had had their ups and downs but overall she felt that their marriage had been and still was successful.

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I had graduated and ventured out into that scary void known to college students as "the real world." My reaction was similar to others in my situation: "Now what?" After pondering this question for a good amount of time, I realized that six months had gone by and I was still working at one of the campus bookstores, promoted from temp to shipping clerk. Eventually, I realized that it had almost been a year and I still didn't have an answer.

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"Babe the reservation is for 7pm, hurry up and get ready" she snapped. I had been working a lot lately, so much so that I always seemed tired and rarely payed enough attention to her. We had only been dating a handful of months. One day while working out I had spotted her on the tread mill. With every step her body seemed to move and shake in the most perfect ways.

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"Alright everyone sit down in your seats. Let's get started. We're already running way behind and the first meeting of the year is the most important, it sets the tone for everything else we will do." Kendall yelled as she barged into the room. "EVERYONE QUIET".

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You stand before me, hands behind your back, awaiting instruction attentively. I gesture in a way you understand. You unhook your bra, slide off your panties and hand them to me. I inhale the warm undergarments, kiss them, then set them aside. I step closer, grip you firmly by your upper arms and lower my head onto your throat, just under your collar.

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My name is Michael - family and friends call me Mike. At that time I considered myself an unremarkable 23 year-old, English WASP with a degree in psychology and a post-graduate certificate in education. I was working through my last summer before starting teaching in a secondary school near my old home town. I was brought up with the 'protestant work ethic' and had always had a job of some description as I went through my further and higher education.

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As I looked up the steps to the front door of the Hawkwood family home, I was filled with dread and anxiety. I started up the first step and I could hear my mother pull away in her car behind me. I could hear the sound of rubber on the wet asphalt fade out as it made its way down the the circle of the drop off area to the black ribbon of the long driveway that led to the front gate, passing the lush grass and trees that lined it. I wasn't entirely sure why I was there.

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It's late. Deep within the AM. The storms are rattling the house, shaking all the windows... with a crash the room goes white, lit brightly beyond any recognition, for just a split second. Then total darkness. Again. I'm scared. I'm alone. I hear the sheets of rain colliding against my window...

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"Small Town" "So..." Betty asked brightly, "what do you think of our little town?" Willow smiled a forced smile, twirled a lock of bright purple hair through her fingers, and said to her sister-in-law in a cheerful tone, "It sure is...um...little, that's for sure." It sounded painfully fake, even to her, and she mentally cringed at the multiple 'sures'.

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