Your erotic stories

She leads him by the hand into the bedroom. There she slowly takes off his clothes, grazing him with only the lightest of touches. She goes behind him and ties his hands together with a black scarf; the silky fabric is smooth against his skin. She takes another scarf and ties it around his eyes; he's now in darkness.

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I was very happy for my mother when I found out that Cindy was coming to visit. It was late June. I had finished school for the year and had not found a summer job yet -- although I was in no hurry to accomplish that. Mom was still getting over her divorce from my father almost a year ago and she desperately needed to have some fun. I had tried my best to bring her out of the doldrums that she was in, but I guess there's only so much an eighteen year-old son can do. I was hoping that a week with Cindy was what she needed to rejuvenate herself.

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Wow, I said to myself, you've come a long way, girl, in the past six months. I glanced over at the girl sleeping beside me in bed, at the long, shapely legs and the full, chocolate breasts that I had enjoyed so much over the past several hours. On the floor around the bed were scattered pieces of clothing - a pretty top here, a pair of shorts over there, and nearer the bed, a lacy bra and a pair of damp panties frantically stripped off and discarded in a lustful frenzy.

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Gail Davis watched the young man, perhaps in his mid-to-late twenties, climb out of his sports car and walk towards the office of her small real estate business in rural New Jersey. As she did so, Gail began to feel an immediate moistness between her legs. Not much older than my oldest daughter, she thought, eyeing him through the tinted window, feeling her nipples stiffen through the confines of her half-bra and cotton blouse. Other than her frequent masturbation sessions, her nipples hadn't been this hard in far too long.

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"Look, they really are the same, isn't that cool?" Listening from the hallway, I could hear Maya's voice in the bathroom with my girlfriend, Lyn. I stopped cold and listened as once again Maya was comparing her breasts with Lyn's. The bathroom door was not closed and I could just see, through the space between the door and the frame, the sweet curve of Maya's breasts.

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"You're late." The steely tone in Amy's voice let Graham know he was in trouble, that was her "Don't-mess-with-me" voice. "I'm sorry, traffic was murder." Amy Welles didn't like people being late, it was one of her Pet Peeves. Graham knew full well it was a flimsy excuse and Amy would call him on it.

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I've always liked massage, especially the sensuous kind. Stroke and caress me and I'm like putty. I had found that the massage part of the activities at massage parlors was lots of fun for me, perhaps more so that the so-called happy ending part. The sexual part always seemed so much like a business transaction. It felt like a contest between seeing how fast the provider could make me finish, and how long I could hold out.

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Wish I had someone to sleep with. I lay there today in my tight shorts and blouse, sleeping prone with the front door wide open to the street and my bedroom. I dreamed of someone--the tall, dark-haired driver from work, maybe--, walking in and running his hand down might ass, sensitized by the denim stretched over it. Maybe I'd be half asleep...in a fantasy, I can pretend I don't sleep with one eye open. I picture him running his hand down my ass, and I'd try to flip over from where I slept on my stomach, one leg pulled up.

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Sometimes, I think he really, truly does understand how to handle me- how to keep our relationship in line the best he can. I've tried to explain the overwhelming need to submit, to be controlled, to be HIS- and he tells me he knows, has always known, what makes me tick. This makes me question why he doesn't employ it more often, take the authority that I am happy to hand him, but too often, we are at odds instead. Nearly every time I have finally given up on his dominant side, he turns around and shocks hell out of me again...

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We are driving home, you are so very satisfied with yourself. Looking out the window the way you do and at me. Smile on your face, happy. We are wired, it's late but I don't feel all that tired. I look at you, your cheeks are flushed. You still have that little girl outfit on I love so much. Your hair is this outrageous explosion, which is something I also find so amazing about you, your freshly fucked look is so delicious. Your lipstick is still smeared - I don't even think you've looked at yourself in the mirror. The smell of sex is everywhere.

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