Your erotic stories

In a cool low lit room you push me to my hands and knees making sure my legs are spread wide. You take your time running your fingertips over my hips, thighs, to the curve of my ass and I shiver. I move to push back on your hands and you hold me still, taking your time. I feel the palm of your hand graze over my sex then cup firmly. I'm tense, nervous and incredibly turned on. I hear the sigh of approval from your lips as your fingers slide up sideways toward the one hole that's been neglected for over a year.

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We had been sixteen and so incredibly beautiful. Despite our teenage insecurities of being too fat, the photograph proved we had both been stunners ten years ago. Germaine; or Gemmy as I preferred to call her; and I must have been the envy of the world in our post-pubescent years. And now, aged 26, I’m sitting in my kitchen and reminiscing about that somewhat confusing but extremely pleasing summer of 1994, when Gemmy and I had been introduced to one another by our parents.

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Geoff watched as the young couple walked into the darken club. He wasn't alone, nearly every other man watched her too. Geoff sat at the bar, watching everything going on around him. He loved crowds, seeing the interactions of people in different situations. The young woman walked past him, wearing a back, pinstriped mini dress with spaghetti straps. It amazed him that the dress could hold her large breasts without breaking the thin straps.

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A blindfold is snug around her head as she waits for her Dom to return. He said good things would come to her tonight and He never lies. Although it has only been minutes since He told her to kneel and wait, it feels like a century before she hears His heavy boots coming down the hall. He enters the room and firmly closes the door behind Him.

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Please read Chapters 1-9 before reading this story for context (at the very least Chapter 9). You can easily get there by clicking on my author name, 'satyr_132003, in blue just above here on the left. Click on 'stories' and select any of the first nine chapters to get you better acquainted with the story. Thanks for all the wonderful responses and enjoy!

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Robert Kyle had finally had it. Everyday he allowed his American History class the last five minutes of the period to themselves. And everyday during those last five minutes, the female student sitting directly in front of him would do something to give him a raging hard-on. Dropping a pencil. Re-tying a shoelace. Tossing something in the wastebasket and missing by a mile. All three caused her to have to bend over.

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A pit formed in my stomach. I felt like I had been punched. I stared in disbelief at what I had just read in the paper. Under the obituaries, it was all there: her name, her photo and the details of very full life. The memories came back. She was a part of my past; a good part. I reread her obit. I was alone on my back porch overlooking my garden of colorful flowers, native shrubs, and manicured trees. She had sparked my love for gardening.

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"So what were you doing all afternoon while I was slaving over a hot terminal?" Tom's wife was giving him a cold stare. "Running?" "Swimming," he admitted. "Really?" The stare was getting colder now. "I thought we were going to go now, after the little kids were gone." "We can go. No problem."

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I was so glad to be on the way home. It wasn't a particularly long or difficult date; I was just ready to be home – home to my loving wife of fifteen years. I know it's a cliché, but my wife really is my best friend. They say that a strong marriage is built on good communication. Well, we have a very strong marriage. We talked about everything – all the time. We would send each other short e-mails or text messages several times a day and usually when my wife came home from work we would often sit on the couch just talking for 30-45 minutes as we decompressed (I get home an hour before she does most days).

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Note: Your comments or constructive criticism mean a lot to me. Feel free to leave me a private message if you'd like to share your thoughts, get updates on future chapters or receive a personalized photo of my cock. Statement of veracity: This is a true story. Well, everything up to the break point. I'll leave it to you to guess which of these is the full true story.

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