Your erotic stories

A few months had passed since the night Julie had been raped and forced to have sex with her son, Lance. The two of them spent considerable time following her birthday barely talking. Both embarrassed by what had transpired. And both knowing that they had been sexually fulfilled by the experience.

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I am the youngest of five children, all girls. My oldest sister got pregnant very young, and I was 7 when my oldest niece, Holly, was born. She and I have always been close, a number of people have commented that we are very similar people. Four years ago she and her whole family moved back east when her dad got a new job. She and I have stayed in touch, by email and the occasional phone call.

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He met her at a regional training conference being held at a well known, North Florida resort. A number of attendees had taken the resort van to a restaurant a few miles away from the main conference center. He was sitting at the small restaurant bar having a drink; she came up and took the seat next to him and started a conversation. From his perspective, she was not the type of woman he would pursue or attempt to seduce.

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I must admit, I was impressed as soon as I set my eyes on him. His wrists were bound tightly together with a piece of rope that was fixed to the ceiling through a single brass loop. His feet were drawn back toward his buttocks with another piece of rope pulled through the brass loop, keeping them firmly in situ.

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You know the saying—and I'm sure I date myself by saying this—"I want to marry a girl like the one that married Dad?" Well, that holds true for me. I come from a big, traditional Italian family—Dad worked and was head of the house, Mom was at home in the kitchen (and pregnant for the most part). We didn't have much money, but we were never hungry, and because there were seven kids, we had a lot of fun. I always assumed that when I got married, I would have the same kind of family. I loved kids, and secretly, I looked forward to having an ever pregnant wife.

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I am a 27 years old male, in great shape and pretty damn good-looking if I do say so myself. I have a great job with a large advertising agency in New York City; an office on the 29th floor with a breathtaking view of Manhattan, and my life is going pretty good right now. I am on top of the world so to speak, single and loving it.

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The double doors sprung open and I stepped out of the cold and into the bleak fluorescent wasteland of my local supermarket. Selecting a basket from the towers by the door, I walked through the checkouts, pausing to survey Abigail - the glowing radiant centre of the store. At 20, she was two years younger than I was and had a body that looked too good to be caressed by her drab uniform.

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Hi! My name's Ellie. I used to live pretty wild and stupid, but then I had a baby and I decided to try and be smarter. Inside, though, I'm still as impulsive and hungry as ever. Sometimes to help myself work through my drive without acting out, I sit down to write about it. Today I wanna tell you about Stephen.

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Erin watched her son with some concern, he had a limp and it wasn't the first time she had noticed some things about him, the odd bruise on an arm or a leg, what looked like a bruises around his handsome young face. She had approached him a few times about them, but he had been evasive in his answers and always tried to change the subject or left the conversation.

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You wouldn't have suspected it when he walked in so casually. With jeans and a tight t shirt he looked very comfortable with himself. Even his walk, a very collected and aggressive stride that drew the attention of both June and Eden, hid his purpose. Imagine their surprise then when, after searching through the entire store, he came to the counter empty handed.

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