Your erotic stories

The following story was written by inspiration from a fantasy dialog between a very good friend and myself. She likes to be called Countess Devane and helps to keep me young. I worked very hard to keep the dialog as it was originally, and spontaneously, projected, while filling in enough detail to help the reader experience what we did. Please enjoy!

read more

I am a man haunted. Driven to the depths of despair and raised to the heights of ecstasy by that girl: a slim young creature who bewitched me and made me half crazy as I careened between fierce lust for her and bitter remorse for what I subjected her to. It was not always this way. For most of my life I was the soul of dignity, a true gentleman. My life was a tranquil sea, roiled neither by triumph nor tragedy.

read more

"Jeremy, I think you'll like our latest acquisition. You know her. Or you should. You went to school together." The boss sat on the corner of the desk and watched Jeremy for a reaction. When Jeremy only arched an eyebrow, the boss shifted slightly, disappointed and continued, "Sara Ann Birdsdale." Jeremy smiled but forced his body to remain in the same casual pose. He couldn't count her as the one who got away because she was never his to begin with. But he remembered her. Smart and a goody two shoes.

read more

It began with a fire in the upstairs Lingerie Department of my local Debenhams department store. Something in the adjacent restaurant had exploded in a ball a flame, and the first thing I knew was one of the attendants grabbing me by the arm and hauling me out of my cubicle. To say the situation was inopportune would be a gross understatement.

read more

"I've always been intrigued by Aliza's erotic fascination for power. Although in daily life I normally have quite a dominant character, from the moment of our first fuck she acquainted me with the magnetizing pleasures of submissive sex. And today I just love to be coerced into serving her lusts any way she wants. She's like a spider, bringing me under her control and then greedily consuming my sexual energies with a plundering animal hunger.

read more

The following is a true story, based on actual events…well, some of the facts are actually as they truly happened, and some events are based on my lustful imagination. Chris is completely real, and as true as any cyber lover can be: and Dora, as many of you know personally, lives life as honestly as small, rectangular hippy glasses will permit her to be. I would caution any of you out there to be suspicious of any lovers you may meet on the Net, they may not be an honest-to-goodness Chris….so, make sure you verify that you have found…the real Dude…..

read more

Ricks vision began to lighten; the world around him a kaleidoscope of pale swirls. His hearing was coming alive the hum of electric light tubes and a strange ventilation sucking noise filling the air. He sensed the passage of time-was it still evening? He didn't think so. His mind tried to retrace his steps.

read more

I was at fundraiser at my new husband's workplace. Everyone who was anyone in our small town was there, vying to impress each other with much preening of plumage as the evening wore on. As usual, my husband John had gathered what few young people were in attendance like a pied piper and escaped outside into the warm summer night on the porch, leaving the stilted world of moneyed philanthropists inside. I had noted his exit and attempted to follow, but was intercepted in the hall by a large elderly dame of society who enjoyed nothing more than to recall tales from her long ago youth by the hour.

read more

PART 1 I race to a halt and stand panting outside the office. My feet are killing me. These new high heels are not made for sprinting. Gulping a few nervous breaths, I smooth down my pink top and white mini. The door is ajar but I knock anyway then take a few steps back. I look down at my fluffy pink purse swinging back and forth across my thighs as if it's as anxious as I am to get this thing over with. The door jerks open and I watch two slightly scuffed, black shoes step towards me. I dare not look up.

read more

He disabled the burglar alarm then pushed the metal pick into the door lock at the back of the house; let the tool play across the lock's pin. Too much or too little pressure, too little or too much finesse guaranteed failure. The skill in using a pick is to bounce it in the keyway according to the resistance offered by each pin. Gently coercing the pins into obeying his will, he was sensitive to the sound, the feel of the pick touching each pin.

read more