Your erotic stories

My hand is firm on the back of your neck. The chilly fall rain licks against the panes, as your hard nipples press into the glass of the elevator wall. Your head turns to the side and your ear picks up the sounds of the party below. Your breath fogs the glass as you pant. You try to turn to look back, but I press you forward. This is my show, and the puppet dances only when her string is pulled.

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Let me help you understand my views on this. Dom/sub relationships are not about the bondage or the spanking or calling one Sir - or the other any sort of pet names - but it more on the way that two people interact. There are some assumptions that can be made - but then while interacting - no assumptions should be made - that is where you need to find out your partner.

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We spoke of little else for days after the threesome with her boss. The excitement of the experience cast everything else in the shade. At first, we were hesitant. Naomi asked me how I'd felt about it - how did I feel about seeing her sucking Bob's cock? Was I jealous? Did it make a difference that Bob hadn't actually fucked her? What if he had?

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They had been working in the same office for some time now. He had always lusted after her lithe young form in stolen moments. He, the studious young employee, trying to get ahead, trying to always do the right thing. Trying to get her attention, trying to get her affections. But she would have nothing to do with him. She was more concerned about her life, her lovers, and, quite frankly, herself.

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It was a struggle to open your eyes this morning. A busy week of travel mixed in with a "red eye" flight had taken its toll of your energy. Somehow, with great effort, you managed to drag your weary body out of bed, and stumbled along the hall to the kitchen. Morning coffee never failed to revive, at least not yet.

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#1 – Margaret Margaret had been worried about Ricky ever since the accident. Carrie, Margaret's daughter, had been put in the hospital with a coma. Margaret wasn't as worried about Carrie. Something in her soul told her that her daughter would emerge from this long sleep.

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This is a coming of age story of a young man in the 1960s. My father and I never really got along. He was a hard man, few words and worked hard all of his life to provide for his family. He was tough though. When I turned 13 he came to me and told me that he would provide a roof over my head, food on the table and laundry, but if I wanted any thing else that I had to do it for my self.

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The mud squished under Marcen's toes as he waited for the best fuck of his life. The grass and shrubbery rustled as Cade appeared a few feet away and Marcen's heart pounded. He had been waiting for this moment ever since he met the guy last weekend at Lavoi's Pub. His rosy cheeks were what drew Marcen in at first, along with his brilliantly coiffed blonde hair and extravagant blue eyes, but no, it was the red cheeks that did it for him. This natural blush was so unlike his own skin, pale and a little freckly, and he could never get his own red hair to style like Cade's.

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Liam knew he owned the school. He was the best football player this small local college had seen in years and there was even talk of him trying to go pro. He had his pick of all the girls on campus; life was good. Except for one little problem. His US History professor was tough. He didn't even help the athletes out. In the tiny town in the south, most of the athletes were white, so there was no talk of any racial discrimination by this professor, but he discriminated against guys who were young, talented, handsome and played sports.

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This story may read like a fantasy, but the basic facts are 100% true. I’ve just added some dialogue to give the full flavor of what happened. It happened many years ago, but I’ve never forgotten. And, I kept a journal at the time, so I wrote it down within days. I still get excited thinking about it, and it is arousing to be writing it down to share now.

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