Your erotic stories

It was a fine Saturday morning, warm sunshine, and light breezes bringing scents of spring flowers. Unbeknown to me, my real sexual awakening would begin later that day. I dressed in some loose fitting jeans and a bulky sweatshirt that made my petite frame look bigger than I am. I splashed on some Erotique, pulled by blonde hair into a ponytail, then raced down to the shops. Like most other Saturdays, the routine of doing my shopping and running errands had begun.

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Being away on business for a week had been relaxing. Ever since that night in the hotel where Ken had been watched by over 400 people on his IM, his free time had been very active, to say the least. His sister-in-law, Connie, who had watched had arranged a gathering with some of her friends. She had invited a girlfriend and her husband to join them. That next weekend he had shown up at her house to meet them. When she opened the door he found her in just garters, panties and a sexy bra.

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I met this lovely woman in a bar; she was tall, blonde and well developed. She came over and chatted me up, now I am not tall and well developed so I wasn't sure why she did but I liked it. "Hi I am Dominique, you can call me Dom," she cooed, "and you are?" "Jamie." "Ah Jamie, nice to meet you darling very feminine name isn't it?"

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She felt a sharp tug on her dark hair from behind as her head was jerked back. The suddenness of it almost caused her to fall down. She was able to maintain her balance as her body was pulled back sharply until it hit the chest of the man behind her. Another hand reached around her. He roughly took her left breast in his big hand and squeezed it. Suzanne emitted a gasp as the pain and firm control he exerted over her was combined with an erotic jolt that sent tremors through her body.

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Rob and Dolly Hamlin were sitting in Oldham’s Bar in North St. Louis having a drink with their son Scott. Oldham’s was a gathering place for most of the bikers in the area. Scott had a motorcycle customizing shop right next door and the location couldn’t have been better. It was like having the bar do your advertising and marketing for you, Scott said. The bar was packed this evening and the customers were the usual lot.

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This time he would pay, Jaci swore to herself. The bastard boss of hers. She had tolerated a lot from that guy in the last four years since they had started working together, but this was the final drop. She recalled long trips through the jungle with one ill-tempered and ill-mannered brute that had no tolerance for women being weaker when carrying 20 kg of equipment, or spending far too much time in the bathroom – especially the way he considered it.

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You are in detention in the school library. You just turned eighteen and you hate school. Your assignment is dull and your attention drifts. You eye the bookshelves, scanning the titles for something interesting. You pick out a big old art book with pictures. As you bring it from the shelf, something slips from within the bindings. A sheaf of glossy pages hit the floor.

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I never thought that I would have Katya facedown with her ass in the air, but here she was. Her cute little rosebud totally exposed and at my mercy. I couldn't wait to shove my 7-inch cock into her hot channel. How did this come to be you ask? Let me explain. Katya is like my little sister. I first met her when she was 14 and I have known her for about 5 years. She is the best friend of my younger brother's girlfriend Joye.

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"Now, my dear, I must tell you that I've come to see you about a most important matter. One that involves both the Duke and his son." Mrs Mason looked across the tea cups with an arch expression on her face which seemed to imply a hidden insight into the mystique of the nobility. Since Diane Mason's husband was the senior Steward of the Duke of Parsvale's estate both he and his wife were really no more than glorified servants.

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Look at you now, was it only four weeks ago I said those same words. Sitting on my big double bed I remember looking in the ornate dressing table mirror, look at you now Mrs Susan Watts; it was so strange to be called Watts, 21 years as Harbert, and for the last month Mrs Rupert Watts. A month of bliss. My mind went back to that lovely honeymoon in the Seychelles and the things a new wife experienced.

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