Your erotic stories

He wondered if this would be the day as he lay there and let her strap him down to the table. She sat down next to him when she was done, pulling a small table next to her. Silently she traced her nails across his skin. Stopping occasionally to tweak his nipples. After a few minutes she stopped and broke the silence. "Shall we begin?" "Yes. Please Mistress, please." His eyes were fixed upon her. Rarely though would she ever look him in the eye.

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"I don't understand," my neighbor said, her dark brown eyes wide open as she struggled to comprehend what was going on. What had started out just like the last few nights, an innocent game of rummy in the kitchen of her modest little apartment had changed dramatically in the last few minutes due to my actions and words. My words had come easy because they were what was going on through my mind even since I had met Tara a few months ago, but even though I was the one that said them I couldn't believe that I had actually said them aloud.

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I had been the area manager for a group of restaurants for about five years, having been promoted through the ranks from having been a waiter as a summer job. The restaurants were pretty basic family establishments, you would know the sort where you would take your mum and dad at the weekend for an inexpensive meal.

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I do not like to go to company parties. Not Fourth of July, not Christmas, not New Years. Anytime. I just don't like them. They're usually very boring, often embarrassing as people do and say things with careless abandon. Part of my dislike is admittedly my fault -- I don't like to drink alcohol. So as other people are loosening up while getting blitzed, I'm just standing around watching them.

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I arrived a bit later than I wanted to but no big problem. The greeting was warm and welcoming. The kisses were quite outstanding, sensual, & as intimate as I remembered from our previous and first meeting. Breaking off kisses is difficult when you have found a really good kissing partner…

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"What was your most interesting photo shoot, Natasha?" Alex asked. His digital SLR snapped in the silence of the hotel room. I held my pose, wondering how honest I should be. "Well, I did a shoot last year wearing nothing but body paint," I offered, the over-stuffed comforter pressed softly between my legs.

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Janelle had never heard of such a thing, but reading the description that day last spring had instantly moistened her pussy: "A tribute is a video in which a guy looks at a girl's picture as he masturbates, saying how much her picture turns him on, how hot it makes him to see her body, her nipples, her butt, maybe even just the outline of her breast beneath a sheer top if that's all the girl is showing in the picture. As he talks and strokes for the camera, he gets more turned on, and it's clear that he's going to come.

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Secrets are one of the things that I love about being married. Some of the best secrets that my wife and I share with each other are, of course sexual ones, and that makes them special. I guess we're both pretty average looking and no one would ever guess that we are as intensely sexual about some things. And that includes some of our closest friends.

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Monday always began with a meeting, and this Monday morning was no different from any other. We were all sitting around the long wooden table in the conference room, listening to one voice after another explaining how good their department was. Everyone was showing graphs over the growth of our company, but somehow it all seemed so distant from the reality we had to live with in the small office rooms.

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As I was slaving away at my computer today, the phone rang. I looked down and could tell that it was Sasha calling me. I was immediately excited when I saw her name on the caller identification feature. I couldn't wait to hear her voice. When I answered, she said in a soft but demanding voice,

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