Your erotic stories

(Author's note: This fantasy happened some time ago. Long before STDs were a known threat. If the time of these events were more recent, certainly safe sex precautions would have been followed - and recommended.) * After a long, hard, aggravating day at my job, I packed my bag and went to the Gym for a stress reducing workout.

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I woke up to find a strange man looking into my bedroom window on the seventeenth floor. Fight-or-flight kicked in first, and I jerked awake, sitting bolt upright. My body didn't know if it should leap from the bed, or jump into a fighting stance. And then my brain caught up and noticed two things at the same time.

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Stopping to adjust his bulky backpack, Ryder took a deep breath. The air was crisp and fresh, the day sunny and a pleasant temperature. He smiled as he took in the view around him. The forest was losing its leaves as autumn headed inexorably to winter. Over to his left, obscured temporarily, were the mountain ranges. As beautiful as they were, they were not the objective on this trip. On his right was the river they were following.

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Dutch came first. It was a particularly busy and boisterous night in the Dick Hut, tucked in the back shadows of an alley off the Nuuanu Stream in the heart of Honolulu's red light district. The sign over the door actually said "Richard's," but that's not what everyone called it. Naval ships were in harbor, more than ninety of them, I was told, and all of Oahu was abuzz at the rumbling of war, with the Japs getting more belligerent with each passing day.

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It wasn't until after my third divorce that I decided to try and fulfill a fantasy I have had for many years, to be the slave of a beautiful dominant woman. I joined numerous dating websites and scoured the internet for possible ways to find my dominant soul mate.

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The pain was fighting with the pleasure; the fear with the exhilaration. The struggle for the dominant sensation was sending my adrenaline through the roof. God, I was skipping along the top of the clouds. Shit, I was skimming the searing flames of hell. Pain, pleasure. Pleasure, pain. Right there on the edge. Would he love me or kill me? Would he fulfill my desires? Or would he take me to the edge of release only to abandon me to want and frustration? Either way, this was the edge that made me feel alive. This . . . this . . . this, right here, right now.

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You've barely been online for five minutes when the email appears. The subject line is blank, but you open it anyway, curious to read what I have sent you. However, this is not a day for words, and you stare at the empty white box, momentarily confused, until you notice the attachment. It's a video file, and is simply labelled 'Watch me'.

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We arrived at the cabin about 3 in the afternoon. After storing our gear and "opening up" the cabin that meant making sure all the lights, refrigerator and the pump still worked plus bringing in enough firewood for the first night we headed off for "Maxine's." This was not your usual steak house. Maxine's was attached to a grocery store. The kind of place that has everything you might need for a week of hunting or fishing but little else!

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One's mind can play tricks when the brain is on overload the last week of the semester? Which is trick, and which is reality? Hard to say when one's in a fog, as I am. Here we three are again. It's about 1:00 am, and Tanner, Mitch and I are working away in the fraternity house dining room. Tonight's scene will undoubtedly repeat the last few nights.

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"Never did this before," I said, as my new friend Jesse pulled my shirt up over my head, exposing my pale, hairless chest which was in stark contrast to the one of the man who was undressing me. "I know," Jesse said quietly. "You told me that already. Relax, Tim. No reason to be afraid."

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