Your erotic stories

NOTE: All characters in this story are over 18 years old. The term teenage still refers to people who are eighteen or nineteen years old. This story is pure fantasy! Have fun!! --commercial begins— Do you struggle with bad habits like smoking, drinking, or gambling? Does your spouse tell you he wants to clean, but constantly forgets? Do your kids constantly back-talk or struggle with their grades? Tired of throwing away hard earned money on tuition, just to have your son or daughter fail their classes? Then we have a solution for you!

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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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I don't know why I married a panty slave. It's not like I didn't know about James' fetish before I said yes to his marriage proposal. He had been quite up front when we were dating about his desire to be controlled by a strong woman, and the instrument of her control was to be her underwear. He isn't into bondage or spanking or any of the more traditional bdsm fare, although I sometimes incorporate these things into our kinky love making.

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It's been a few weeks since my stories were discovered by Sir on the Literotica website. As it turned out, Sir and I live in the same city, about 10 miles apart. When Sir mentioned there was an opening in his company, and it was in my field of expertise, in order to be closer to him, I jumped at the opportunity.

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What attracted me to... Linda Groves at first was the hair on the arms. The blonde that worked with me at my part-time job at the grocery store during my first year of college was not extraordinary looking in any other way, but one look at her arms got my attention right away.

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I was at university at the time, and like all students I was finding money very hard to come by, not having rich parents, and not getting along with my mother. She had wanted me to marry this nice lad, but he wasn't for me. I was doing media studies, public relations, and arts. I thought I had the looks to get on in those fields. I had done some modelling when I was a bit younger, so I thought I might be able to get into that.

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Week 1: They tell you to be careful in what you wish for. As usual, I awoke with an erection. Or, more correctly, my attempt at an erection woke me; the feeling of my cock trying to grow, to stretch and swell was hampered by its confinement in a steel cage which was firmly anchored to my swollen balls by a hinged stainless steel clamp ring, and secured with a small brass padlock, which was, of course, securely locked.

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The first time Kevin Roach was mistaken for Tommy Ross he was in the White Lion. The mistake's maker approached him when he was at the bar, getting in a round of drinks for himself and his workmates. She had bobbed red hair and neat, pretty features and she wore a T-shirt displaying her allegiance to the rock band White Noise.

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You joked when we first started seeing each other that the reason you had bought the four post bed was so that you could tie up naughty girls and do naughty things with them, but admittedly this had never happened. While I was never inclined to let anyone tie me up, I have to admit that the idea teased at my more erotic side and led me to many such fantasies. Sometimes when I came over and you were up before me, I would sprawl out, reaching for the posts and imagine that I was tied there to be used by you. Such fantasies led to hot sex, though I never told you what had got me going.

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It all started over a letter. A simple piece of paper with a college header addressed from far, faraway. A letter from some fancy professor that would change everything Dane knew. It meant that Kobe was leaving soon and there was nothing Dane could about it, the letter proof of his best friend's decision to go to school.

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