Your erotic stories

The Wrightsville yacht harbor dipped beneath the horizon off the stern of the big sloop. As its hull neatly parted the waves, the rigging beneath the taut sail hummed while the breeze of the yacht's passage gave relief from the muggy July heat of the North Carolina coast. Brenda watched the coast disappear for a few minutes and then turned to the woman sitting beside her.

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She kneeled in front of the wood stove, laying the paper, kindling and logs for the fire carefully. Rocking back on her heels, she lit it, watching the flames grow, hearing them crackle. Once she was sure it had caught, she closed the doors and stood up, walking over to the chaise that faced the fire. The room was lit only by the small tree and several candles, the scent of cinnamon on the air.

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I've been watching her for days and I don't know why. What was it she had that made my colleague, Fran, employ her? She was average looking at best and her figure was nothing special, not that you could really see that much of it as she kept it covered up at all times. Her fashion sense at times seemed frumpy and old for a younger woman. Her name was Claire and I'd say about twenty years my junior.

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Mark decided that it was better late than never. He got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. Kristin was already up and had the coffee on. The warm, delicious aroma scented the entire room. He sat down at the table and reached for the paper. He opened it but was not interested in reading it. His mission this week was to watch Kristin, look for signs.

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Mike decided to go to an auction on the outskirts of a quaint New Hampshire town. Since he had finally left his second wife, Liz, he had one idea in his head. He wanted to make his submissive and lover, Sara, his full time. There was only one problem with this idea. Sara was married.

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"Well, did you fuck her?" Glenda asked her husband as he slipped in the front door. Henry jerked and turned as his wife spoke and flipped on the lamp next to her chair. "Uh.... Well.... Uh...." He stammered and then grinned as he saw his wife was naked. "Yes. Yes, I did." Glenda whimpered softly and shifted in the chair.

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She knelt by the front door, waiting for him to return. He had called about 30 minutes ago, informing her that he would be home soon and instead of her usual greeting, he wanted her naked, kneeling with her head down, hands clasped in front of her, when he returned home. After he had called she had undressed as she was told, darting into the bathroom for a quick spin in the mirror, she liked looking at herself, she’d worked extremely hard to get the body that she had now.

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This story was from a dark corner of my mind that DreamWeaverAz helped me write. I am not that good at reacting as a Dominant would. This is a story warning the wanna-bes out there. A true Master goes beyond the kink. "Three fingers, teasing softly, not entering but lingering, the middle finger pushing lightly wanting to enter, mmm how wet you are."

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Her face is perfect, angelic. Her eyes are a soft blue, her hair pale blond. Her features are delicate and childlike, her lips plump and tinted a soft rose. Her body is slender and sylphlike, sheathed in a high-waisted slip of a dress, gauzy and coy. He wants her, wants to possess the innocence she embodies, wants to drive himself into it, own it and shut it away so he'll be the only one to ever taste it.

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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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