Your erotic stories

Tracey woke to a silent darkness. Groggy she opened her eyes, tried to sit up, confusion swirled in her mind, then awareness flooded her as heart hammered. A blindfold covered her eyes, a gag of some sort filled her mouth. She could taste the rubber and leather on her tongue. Straining against her bonds she moved her head, then realized she couldn't hear. Earplugs had also been placed in her ears. Her arms were tied over her head, she could feel her nude body lying on some type of corse surface.

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Isobel Ford glanced back and forth from her stopwatch to the runners coming around the final curve. She started calling the times out to her assistant, who's own gaze was darting back and forth from her notebook to the numbers pinned on each runner's chest as the members of the girl's track team thundered down on them.

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1 'Wow, this is some paradise huh?' My wife asked as she lay down on the sunbed and took in our surroundings; we lay next to the swimming pool, surrounded by coconut trees, only a stone's throw from the tropical, white sand and blue-green sea. 'Yeah,' I agreed as I had a quick scan of our surroundings, taking in all of the bikini-clad women as they walked around in front of us; 'this place certainly has some great views.'

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I had just turned 21 years old and every gay male who reaches that age does what every male gay or straight will do and that is to legally drink and go out and hit the bars and clubs. That day finally came in the summer of many years ago and I hit my first gay club with some friends. We were partying it up seeing the male strip show and then having shots, drinks, and just having some fun.

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My eyes flickered open as the shrill staccato of my alarm clock tattooed on my skull, seemingly without end and insistent that I wake up. I threw a look of disgust in its general direction, cursing the blessed thing for interrupting my sleep, quickly following the look with my clenched fist which thumped down hard, silencing it mid-screech. Closing my eyes in relief I decided to treat myself to another minute or two of rest.

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Jenna drove as fast as she dared. The wreck on the bridge had caused a stand still in traffic for thirty minutes and when it had started to move it was at a snail's pace. She was fifteen minutes late. Jared would be displeased. He'd told her to be home no later than six-thirty. She left the packages in the car and went straight inside. "You are late."

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Sitting in my English class reading stories from Henry David Thoreau, I kept thinking about plans to runaway from the world that never understood me. I must have been interested with my own mind because I had not heard Mr. Peterson ask me a question. I looked up to see everyone's eyes staring at me. Mr. Peterson was leaning on his desk, crossing his arms while unconsciously showing off each muscle that tightened around his white shirt.

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Mary-Lou had her own private little pool down by the river. She'd found it quite by accident when she was a young teenager. The spring floods had cut across a corner of the river, changing the course slightly, and a deep hidden pool had formed amongst a copse of trees. Mary-Lou had been after a turkey that had vanished into the trees and had found the new pool by falling into it.

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Life was good for a marauder. Here they sat -- circled around a bonfire, roaring and laughing, a successful week of raiding and plundering behind them -- now with beautiful, buxom wenches riding their cocks. It had taken quite some effort for these great warriors to arrive at this place with such bounty.

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Sharon stood in front of her closet, sliding hangers one way, then the other. She really had no desire to go out tonight, but Jeff had made it very clear, this evening was important. If he was ever going to make the right connections in the company or have any chance of moving up the Corporate Ladder, this was the going to be the first rung.

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