Your erotic stories

I have always felt fortunate that as a man with a smoking fetish, my desires can be realized in public. I am always on the lookout for beautiful smoking women and for as long as I can remember I have been drawn to this erotic image. It often fills my fantasies and I am thankful that I have had the good fortune of exploring this powerful fetish with past girlfriends.

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Dear Debbie: What is your opinion on your submissive's RIGHT to occasionally kiss your boobs? My husband is totally hot for my full, pink 36D melons, but since he became my slave,I gradually weaned him off of them. Part of the problem is, I'm not as attracted to Joel as I used to be, he's kind of chubby now, and having his hands groping me when he brushes by in the kitchen is not that pleasant. I don't mind him going down on me, but I've outlawed intercourse, especially since meeting my young lover, Emilio.

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Lexies's bare legs were crossed at the knee as she sat on the edge of the motel bed and carefully read the letter that Ted, the male college student, handed her. It was written by his friend David and contained the unique code word in the final paragraph. It was a code word that she assigned to every customer who referred another male to her. Ted was justifiably nervous. He had never had sex with a woman before, and Lexie was to teach him. At nineteen that was something he didn't want to admit.

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Kayla had had a hard day. Her boss was giving her a hard time; her ex-boyfriend was doing the same. All she wanted to do was to have people just leave her alone. After she got home, all she wanted to do was to get drunk & forget about her day. She had a few too many beers & went to bed with a spinning head. Sometime during the night, she heard a sound that wasn't one of the usual nighttime sounds that she was familiar with.

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It was 4:30 p.m. and already dark one dreary, rainy late January day in Portland. As usual, I stopped by my local Fred Meyer store to buy some items for dinner. One trip to Montreal years ago and, ever since, I've liked buying just enough fresh items for dinner each night. I even shop with an old web sack that I got when I bought too many oranges. It is a ritual now. I see some familiar faces and get to talk to few people briefly before heading to my quiet house and the evening news.

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I came out the depths of my dreams with an erection as usual, but the sensation was especially wonderful this morning. As I knocked the residue of the nocturnal world back to the real world, I realized a hot, wet mouth was sucking me into the waking world. Her mouth was moving slowly and deliberately with a suction that was beckoning my essence out of me. My Mistress was preparing me for what she promised would be a most memorable weekend.

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Sarah stood in the shade of the thatch-roofed picnic shelter, sipping on a diet coke as she spitefully contemplated how her weekend had been completely ruined. After two continuous weeks of stressful work, she had been relishing this much needed weekend to herself. That was until Friday night, when a dreaded phone call from her cheerily coercive mother had ended all her hope of relaxation.

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I sat nervously in my hotel room, a large glass of single malt Scotch whisky in my hand. I stared at the selection of tights I had earlier laid out on the bed, wondering which Tom would prefer. Tom was 19 and lived locally to me but we had never met in person, we had begun chatting in an internet chat room and found similar interests in a fetish for tights.

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It was 10.10 am on a Thursday in April. My wife was away at work in the city and wouldn't be home for another 12 hours at least; there was some big take-over bid and lots of paperwork to sort out. She was bringing cases of work papers home at the weekends too for the past two months and I hadn't really had any free time with her for ages.

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It was Friday afternoon and I had returned to the hotel suite after finishing with my best friends dress rehearsal for her wedding which was Saturday evening at 6 pm. I had about 4 hours to kill before my husband and I needed to be at the rehearsal dinner. Steve, my husband, was out playing golf with my dad and my brother and wouldn't be back for another at least two, maybe three hours.

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