Your erotic stories

I decided to wait for you, even though we'd made no plans. I know you'll be here. You love to visit this small wooded area, with its immense old oaks even when you're not on the hunt. I'm sure you can sense that I'm waiting. I sit with my back to a tree trunk with my knees drawn up to my chest. The silver moon winks at me through the branches that shiver in the breeze.

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Lying in the chair, stretching lazily beneath the summer sun Nikki heard the rowdy voices of her new neighbors. It was just after ten in the morning when the signs of life had started to show next door, and by the sounds of things, the party was in full swing again. Nikki listened. Loud voices talking over the loud music. The phone ringing, someone calling out to another. A young female squealing with laughter, male voices cheering with obvious approval. She had to smile at what she heard.

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Every time he saw her, he got a hard-on. She seemed oblivious to his discomfort. Probably because the table always hid it from view. He'd been coming to this diner every Tuesday and Friday for 18 months. It was clean and the staff was friendly. And the fact that they had free wireless Internet for their customers drew a faithful breakfast and lunch crowd.

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Here I was, in the huge backseat of a restored '57 Chevy Bel-Air with a woman whose name I couldn't remember; her mouth, tasting of whiskey and tobacco, kissing me, her callused, sure, hands slipping off my panties. My wide hips tipping up to let her, my mouth slack and open to her demanding, slippery, tongue; my head tilted, eyes open, staring at the rivulets of rain streaking the fogged side window.

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We had been lovers for at least six months. I loved his demanding passion, and he clearly loved my neediness. We usually fell into each others arms the moment he walked through the door, and most of the time we were screwing long before we made it to the bedroom. The sofa and chairs in the living room, the floor in every room, kitchen table, washing machine, shower, bathroom sink...we landed on whatever was closest.

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I'd been to the July 4th parade every year for over ten years, but this was the first time I was alone. My kids had all left, and before that, my wife. Where they went, or why, wasn't on my mind. What I felt was alone. When my kids were younger, the parade meant fire trucks, horses, old cars, marching bands, maybe even an army tank or troop carrier. I never used to pay much attention, since I had to keep an eye on the kids.

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Julie sat on a plastic crate in the family room of a house under construction, pondering her options. Both wrists were bound to a rope hanging over a wooden beam high above her. She was naked except for a small blanket thrown over her shoulders. In front of her, a large picture window allowed her a view of the nearby sidewalk and busy street.

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I've always been a bit of a tomboy. Who am I kidding? I am a down-and-dirty, in-your-face tomboy trapped in a little girl's body. Now before you guys get all pervy on me, when I say 'little girl' I mean my body has the physical attributes of a 13 year old girl but I'm actually 21 years old (nearly 22-please send birthday greetings and cash if you have extra).

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He had no idea how long he had sat there holding her hand. Time was gone. She lay so still. She looked so tiny. How often had he admired her body before and never noticed how small she really was? He closed his eyes and remembered her bound and squirming with anticipation, the sheen of arousal on her skin, her heady scent. All that was now masked by the hospital smells, the bandages, and the machines.

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James had an elegant evening on the town planned for night three of domination week. Dinner at their favorite restaurant, and a nice show. Oh, and a little bit of revenge for having been denied relief the night before. He went home during his lunch hour and laid out one of Sarah's loveliest evening gowns, along with the shoes and undergarments he wanted her to wear.

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