Your erotic stories

I moaned softly as the dark-haired man ran his tongue over my nipple and then over it again, chills running down my spine at the feel of the hard, round metal stud rubbing on my nipple. I was thinking hard, although having a hard time organizing my thoughts—Steve was his name, I thought.

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He watched my chest heaving with each breath, breasts bobbing up and down in my tight black corset. I was dressed entirely in tight black leather, and the heady aroma of our juices, sweat and leather filled the air. I licked my lips as I stood before his bound and captive body, laughing devilishly to myself as I replayed tonight's events in my mind.

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The weather in Kansas City was unusually warm for the Veteran's Day weekend. We had the opportunity to be casually dressed all day and the evening wasn't cooling down much so far. We went out to a romantic dinner that night in the County Club Plaza at a very quiet and very private place that we found. The food was wonderful and we hadn't eaten too much so that we were uncomfortable.

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I never dreamed I'd experience sex with my own father. Never. But it happened when I was twenty-two and he was forty-seven. My parents were on vacation in Montana when they were involved in an automobile accident on the Interstate. A car in the lane opposite theirs sideswiped another car causing the two cars to spin and turn over. An eighteen wheeler transfer truck behind them slammed on his brakes causing his trailer to jackknife and that was what killed my mother, their friends who were in the front seat, and left my father in the hospital in casts.

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Jan sat on the side of the bed in her robe rubbing the side of her face and silently cried while Matt took a shower in the other room. He returned shortly and looked down at his wife; the tears running down her face. The anger that masked his face sent dread into her heart. "Just stop it or I'll really give you something to cry about!" he yelled at her. "I'm not a fag like Steve next door.

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Every time I tried to bring up a Valentines Day date with Chris, somehow we ended up not discussing it. It wasn't that he changed the subject, not at all, but somehow I would look back ten minutes later and realize that we didn't talk about it. It was very sneaky of him, perhaps. Or maybe he just happened to be pretty scatterbrained lately.

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This evening was like any other evening in the underground metropolis that lay beneath the city streets. Nothing but the feel of the car's vibration as they moved along the tracks and the almost silent whir of the electric motors that powered them mattered at this moment in time. As Sylvester the Cat would say, "what a revoltin' development!" . Here I was, riding around on the subway when I should have already been home.

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The phone rang and it was Lady. 'My husband has cancelled his trip this weekend, so you can't come over.' I was disappointed and it must have showed in my voice. 'Don't worry. We won't have to wait long. And I will make it up to you. I will introduce you to one of my friends. I think you will like her.'

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Peter and I were had been in LA for a couple of days, staying in a cheap hotel in Venice. Mostly we hung out on the beach, which is where we met Nola, Lara and Val. They were about my age and all very cute. Nola was a white, tall brunette and had a kind of wicked attitude about her. Lara was short — about my height — with beautiful auburn hair. Val was somewhere in the middle, and a California blond.

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I grew up in a very small town. Well, I didn’t even grow up in it, I actually had to grow up outside of town. It was a simple life for my family. Starting in our early teens, my brother and I started mowing lawns. It was a good job for us, being in school. We’d go to school and mow lawns in the evenings or weekends. When summertime rolled around, we’d do even more.

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