Your erotic stories

What can I say? My girlfriend and I have a gratuitous and fortunate sex life. Above all I am honest with her and she is with me, so when I told her I wanted to be dressed like a two bit whore and fucked with the largest "strap on" she would dare use, I was scared she would leave me. Instead we went shopping. The saleswoman at Victoria Secret must have wondered why we were buying the same thing in two different sizes. And as I looked back while my girlfriend was paying I noticed them both look me up and down and smile.

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I love being in radio. There’s always plenty of perks. Concerts or sporting events, trips, etc. But my favorite perk is our Mexican secretary, Joann. When I first began working at my current station, my first self-imposed order of duty was to find a way to get her on her back. But she appeared at the time to be a nice girl. She wanted a relationship while I simply wanted to fuck her senseless. I’ve never found an easy way to say to a woman, “I don’t really give a damn about you, I just want to fuck you whenever I want.”

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The whole thing was Margaret's idea, not mine. You could say I was more a reluctant victim rather than an eager participant. It was late spring and the weather was warming up nicely. Still too cold to go to the beach in my opinion, but it wouldn't be long. It was a Saturday afternoon, reasonably warm, and Margaret came around with her bright idea. She wanted to go to the beach and get an early start on a suntan.

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"Where the hell am I?" Jane opened her eyes to a dark wooden ceiling, rafters sneaking along and supporting the termite infested pine beams, meeting in the middle. As she attempted to move her head and roll to her side, she realized her arms were tied tightly around her back, her ankles bound together, and a cloth stuffed deeply inside her mouth. The scream muffled in her throat as all the flashes of the night before came flooding back to her.

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It had taken a long time to find the perfect donor but the hunt is finished at last. Now all that needs to be done is the extraction. The subject's essence is necessary to complete the brew that I need for my survival as a witch. I will continue to have an empty feeling inside of me until I can be one with the donor, so this process must happen soon. I can feel my powers fade as time goes by. It has taken months of careful planning to get this far and nothing can get in my way.

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Mark's the sort of man you can't help but want to tie down and gag. He's clean shaven, nicely dressed and well mannered with slight build and quick eyes—ah, but that Mr. Brady routine is just a front. The man is actually a tightly wound ball of futile energy and repressed urges. I think he only shaves his head to keep from tearing his hair out in frustration. After a while, his manic approach to life in general makes you want to push him down, sit on his legs and scream, "BE STILL!"

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Claudia sat on the edge of her lawn recline chair, rubbing suntan lotion over her bare, 36-B breasts. Her nipples became erect as she softly caressed them in the process. Once finished, she sat the bottle of lotion on the ground next to her yellow bikini top, and then pulled her blonde hair back and secured it into a ponytail before picking up her wide-brimmed baseball cap off the ground and putting it on her head. Then she grabbed her dark-black sunglasses and put them on before laying back on the chair to soak up the sun.

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I was working late in the audio lab when Nora, my best friend came up behind me. I had my headphones on so I didn't get any warning. She looked over my shoulder at the monitor. When she put her hand on my shoulder, I was so startled that I quickly turned it off. Too late, she had seen what I was doing and I knew my secret was out. So the long explanation began. I couldn't just tell her I was clearing background noise in a recording I had made because the video was on the screen along with the audio.

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I don't know how it happened. Nothing seemed out of place. The last thing I remember is getting out of the shower and drying my hair. That's when I saw him in my vanity mirror. A figure, clothed in black with a mask over his face, wrapping him arms around my shoulders and face. Then everything went black. I know I should call the police but...I don't know if I want to.

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It was unquestionably the weirdest phone call I've ever gotten. I was in the middle of a workout at the gym when my iPhone lit up and the name on the screen said "Kerri" - as in my ex-girlfriend Kerri whom I had not spoken to in three years. Usually, I wait until after a workout to return calls, but this time I was curious, so I picked up. "Uh, hello?" I said, cautiously.

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