Your erotic stories

She was wearing tangerine colored panties. Her legs were slightly separated giving me the opportunity of a tantalizing glimpse of her satiny inner thighs all the way up to her tangerine panties. As she waited for the subway train to get to her stop, her legs fluctuated with the jerky movements of the train, knees meeting then parting. All at once, a full crotch view held there breathlessly for long seconds.

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"What a week," she thought to herself as she drove down Interstate 30. Getting away was the best medicine she thought as she brushed her cheek with the back of her hand wiping away a tear. "Give us some space, that's what we need." She had called her friend and told her she would be driving up for an overdue visit. She was not expected until tomorrow but she had to go, get away from the phone and think. She figured that one night in a Hotel room alone would be all right. So she started out on the four hour drive.

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It's odd how you tell one car from another just by sound, but I knew it was Aunt Em when I heard the car pull into the driveway. She's not actually my aunt. She and Mom were college roommates and have been joined-at-the-hip best friends ever since. Her parents stuck her with the name Frances Marie. Everyone calls her Marie except Mom, who calls her Frankie. I couldn't say Aunt Frankie or Aunt Marie when I was young so she was always Aunt Em to me until recently. Now I call her Frankie, the way Mom does.

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There's an adult bookstore not too far from where I live, and I've been known to go in and drop a few bucks on different things. More than once, I've been checked out by the guys in there, as it seems most of them are gay guys looking for a quick hookup. I've never done anything with any of them, but I usually end up going home and rubbing one out thinking about what it might be like.

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"Are you doing anything tonight?" I asked my cute young intern, Sophie, when I bumped into her in the tearoom, "I know its Friday and you probably have things to do, people to see..." "No, I don't have any plans for tonight Mrs Smith," the 18 year old blonde replied, smiling at me, "why do you ask?"

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I first saw the ad on the internet. The website was a listing of Dominant Women on the West Coast. Since I live in Los Angeles, I was checking out the pictures and information on local dominants. The one that caught my attention was unique. Madame Darcy was based in Paris. Her ad stated that she traveled to Los Angeles frequently and had family here.

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Guy comes into a bar and orders a beer. Bartender gives him a draft beer and says, "Hey Buddy, you don't look so good, you OK?" Guy says, "I have the world's worst hangover. I tried Alka-seltzer; I tried a Bromo, aspirin. Nothing works." Bartender says, "Let me give you a tip. Whenever I have a real bad hangover, I have my wife give me a blow-job. Cures the hangover every time."

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It's late. Deep within the AM. The storms are rattling the house, shaking all the windows... with a crash the room goes white, lit brightly beyond any recognition, for just a split second. Then total darkness. Again. I'm scared. I'm alone. I hear the sheets of rain colliding against my window...

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I was pissed off. See, I was supposed to head up to Canada with my buddies from university and spend our winter break snowboarding, but things never seem to turn out the way I plan. Instead my dad pulled rank and ordered me home for Christmas. He insisted that I should learn some values and spend "quality time" with my mother and sister.

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We met as Ali requested, in the secluded and quiet restaurant close to her apartment. She looked stunning and I knew as soon as I saw her that my decision to agree to her rules for the night was a good one. I shivered, the anticipation building and making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end already. In our planning we had agreed the boundaries, the rules if you like. I was dressed as I was asked, Ali had made a few requests that in reality were not choices for me, but expectations.

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