Your erotic stories

Chapter 1 My eyes tracked her as she warmed up at the head of the jogging trail. My body stayed still and silent, only my eyes moved. From this vantage point I would be able to see her for the first quarter mile before the trail curved out of sight. Then I'd creep back into the brush and navigate to my next observation post.

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Alyssa lay there silently beneath the darkness of the night, wrapped in the black comforter wadded around her exhausted body, as he slowly crept from the bed. She heard his voice mumbling softly as he left the bedroom, but her mind was consumed with the images of the evening's events. Never in wildest dreams had she ever imagine herself meeting a man she would have been so willing to share her deepest and darkest fantasies with, let alone openly discuss them with him.

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The day started off like any other Saturday: I woke up, nursing a little hangover, walked into my kitchen and made some coffee. It was a bright day outside and somewhere around 10 o'clock. I slowly got dressed and made myself a little breakfast, picked up my laptop and set off sending some emails I'd neglected the day before. That went on for about an hour or two when there was a sudden knock on the door. I looked up, perplexed, and slowly walked to the door, hearing the knocking again.

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Something unusual has happened, and I no longer know myself. Whatever new thing I am has made me joyful and confused at the same time. John did it to me. When I look in the mirror, I look changed, though I can't exactly tell what the difference is. People must see me differently. John surely sees it. Yesterday afternoon he sent me an email at work that changed everything. When I got it, I was in the middle of a project and only read the note quickly. Now I would pay attention.

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I don't really care much for politics. I'm neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I'm not liberal or conservative. I'm just -- well somewhere between Independent and "I don't give a shit." Therefore some might consider it very strange -- I know that my parents did -- that in early July, 2011, I took a sabbatical from college to work on Republican Colorado Senator June Jepson's presidential campaign. The reason -- I was fascinated by her.

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His eyes were closed, a vain token of propriety: if he didn't see what was happening, was he really responsible? Around his finger her mouth closed, warm, wet, sucking. He felt her teeth graze over the hardness of his wedding band, then those hot, soft lips closed about his finger, retreating slowly towards his fingertip with a delicious, unfamiliar suction. What am I doing? There is a reason I've worn this band for fifteen years.

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"I'm spending the day at the beach," announced Barbara. "You're mad. You'll be the only person there. It's not really warm enough," Sally pointed out. "It will be. I'm going up to Point Revon. The hills block the wind there and the beach will be sunny. I'm not going swimming, just working on my tan. Why don't you come."

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It was one of those situations I had heard about but never believed. Three friends were over at my house playing poker, and I was down about $300. It was a string of bad luck, really. My hands had been good all night, but someone else always had something a little better. Now, I am sitting here with a ace-high flush, the other three guys have gone in, but I do not have enough money to match them.

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CRACK.........CRACK..........CRACK....... The sound of the paddle hitting against flesh echoes in your bedroom. Again and again, you use the wooden paddle to smack the bare ass of the man lying across your bed. "Do you like that, slave? Do you want more?" "Yes, Mistress, oh yes" "Well, unfortunately, it's time for you to go to work. Maybe if you're good, I'll give you a little more tonight."

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It was her all right, definitely Kimberley Williams, the same cheeky confidence that she managed to exude even when standing perkily at a bus stop. I'd had the dubious pleasure of being responsible for Kimberley's education regarding twentieth century history. A subject that the pretty, but insolent sixteen year old couldn't have cared less about. She didn't really care for Archduke Ferdinand being assassinated in Sarajevo, or for the whys, wherefores or reasons for the rise of Adolf Hitler.

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