Your erotic stories

Julie duly accompanied her husband Richard to the airport as he left for another of his overseas business trips. The Rolls Royce cruised along the country lanes with Peter, the recently appointed chauffeur/stable master, driving in the front seat. Richard had his nose stuck in business papers and as Julie gazed out the windows her mind once again turned to the smell of the leather.

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So she was seeing someone. I didn't expect her to wait for me, we had only been out a couple times before I left... and I didn't know when I would be back, it would have been unfair of me to make that request. Plus, I had a feeling that she would need the time to enjoy her new-found freedom, making her more ready for me when I returned.

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I am new to submissive life - I had no sexual experiences at all until I got to college, and only limited "vanilla" sexual experiences for 30 years after that. Then, in January 2008, I found the Dominant I am proud and happy to serve, as well as the contentment and peace that comes from having an outlet for my submissive self.

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"Ugh. Whatever happened to standards Sharon? Why does everyone think all you need to be a secretary is to look good?" Meet Jake Andrews, a 38 year old CEO of a medium sized business firm. Jake looked pretty average with his brown hair, brown eyes, and an unassuming Caucasian face, not ugly but not handsome by any stretch.

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Nickelback plays in the background as we dance in my room, your hands spinning my wheelchair, switching your hands between my wheel rims and my back handles. Once more, you spin me to face you, as you fall into my lap, you sit, your arms around my neck and shoulders. Your mouth presses against mine, your whiskers gently scrape my face.

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"Kathy? Short for Kathleen? Katherine?" Thomas asked lightly as he poured them both a drink. A strong one for the pale redhead sitting in his easy chair nervously fidgeting. "What? Oh, I'm sorry. I guess...I guess just actually being here...well, I'm very...this just isn't me, something I would normally do," she replied with a drop of her head.

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I don't go to "the club" very often. Going there usually leaves me with this vaguely guilty-dirty feeling. I can never seem to pin down the reason for the feeling. I mean gees, what does anyone care what I do with my own body, or anyone else's for that matter? Consenting adults and all that. I'm pretty open about sex, and very tolerant of other people's turn-ons, no matter how kinky or weird they may be.

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The 14th Anniversary A Valentine's Day Story She was kneeling on the hard surface of their sturdy couch table. It had been repositioned to face the entrance of their apartment; so she would be the first thing her Mistress would see when she came home from work. By then, she knew her knees and shins would be hurting, her breasts would be throbbing with every heartbeat, her nipples would have gone numb and her lips dry -- and there was nothing she could do about it.

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I was a bit confused when I arrived home from work to find the living room furniture shoved off to one side barring a single chair, and the futon mat spread in the room. A moment's thought decided it must be movie night; we often laid the mat out to allow us to snuggle together while we indulged in a flick or two. The idea sounded divine as my day at work had been somewhat tedious and had felt overly long.

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The form letter flatly stated that my grade point average had fallen below the University's prerequisite for living on campus, so it was either apply for special dispensation, or find an apartment. I decided that four years in residence was more than enough for this girl, and hit the want ads that very afternoon.

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