Your erotic stories

Alex was desperate to get off the farm, but it was the only thing he knew, the only trade he had. How he longed to escape to the city, but what would he do there, he wondered. At twenty three he still looked eighteen with his clear blue eyes and shiny blond hair and freckled nose.

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I had wandered into the bookshop to kill time. My appointment with Carol at the employment agency was for 11.30am and I had caught the eight o'clock train in from the lake. For once it arrived on time. The employment agency was on the second floor of the building and I found the bookshop at street level. I had an hour to fill in before I had to go, up so I thought I'd look for a book I had been after for some time, The Mycenaeans by Lord William Taylour.

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Jamie peered over the lip of his cup, the sweet taste of the mocha frappe still clinging to his own lips, as he scanned the sprinkling of customers that were scattered about in the small cafe. A boring pair reading their papers and magazines. Two others ensnared in a heated embrace. Another writing busily. All bored him. But there was one man, hunkered over his own cup, brow furrowed in concentration, who caught Jamie's curiousity.

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Toby confessed that he'd been a virgin when he'd met Valerie. He was red in the face and seemed on the point of tears when he told her that he'd sucked a few cocks when he was at uni. He said that he'd presumed it was just a phase because he fell in love with her, but that he still thought about men and his voice grew very quiet as he confessed to lusting after their gorgeous neighbour Patrick.

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The first guy showed up at 7:30am. I was still in bed so it took me a few minutes to get up, get dressed and get to the door. I pulled on a pair of cargo shorts and went to stop the ringing of the doorbell, wondering who in the hell would be ringing it in the first place. I told myself that if it was my cousin, Kathy, I wouldn't knock her off the front stoop. She had a habit of showing up at odd times but never this early.

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The wife was gone to her sister's for the weekend. I got up late and was shaving in the bathroom mirror when I noticed a reflection in the closet mirrored door. Someone was looking in my bedroom window. I couldn't make out who it was. I only saw the shape of the head. I continued to shave and moved into a different position so I could have a better view. It was a guy. He didn't move. He just stood still and peeked through the blinds.

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Zosimos felt the whip crack down on his back once more. He screeched in agony and was met with only more blows for comfort. He knew he wasn't supposed to make a sound but by the 20th strike he couldn't help it. His brutal master continued to beat him until all that was left was the comforting dark.

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A few months ago I met a guy called Edward and it turned out that, among his varied and chequered past, he'd been divorced and has a son in his late teens, just like me. His lad is called Ashley; he's eighteen and at university in Sheffield. My son is Jake who's nineteen and at Leeds. Edward is physically much larger and stronger than me; something I always enjoy in a man when we get to the bedroom.

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The café was warm, filled with low chatter and the pungent scent of roasting coffee. A jazz band sent its smooth sound over the vast expanse of crowded tables. Seated by the window, Hyuga bent his head over his sketch book, silently absorbed in the task of laying out the scene around him. His pencil glided across the page; he glanced around frequently to take in the exact detail of a certain mug or a woman's blouse. Incessantly, he flipped the dark bangs out of his eyes.

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I had resigned myself to another frustrating night alone without relief. It had been two weeks since I had last been allowed an orgasm, and the need was deep in my groin. This was not the first time that a significant period of time had passed without contact from my master, but this was the longest he had gone without coming to me, and he had been very specific that I could not masturbate and cum until he told me I could.

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