Your erotic stories

Jill had been over to the house a number of times in the weeks following the Christmas party, and I had to admit I had enjoyed every visit. She seemed to delight in wearing different sexy outfits for me, some provocative and some downright sexual, like the night she wore knee high black leather boots, a leather bustier and nothing else.

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters are the work of the author's imagination and any similarity to actual persons or places is coincidental or used fictitiously. This is a copyrighted work which may not be reproduced in part or in whole without the author's permission. All characters are 18 years of age or more.

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"Sheri, wake up, baby." Rebecca's soft voice wakes me out of my confusing dream-nightmare of spinning trees and giants waving their arms. I struggle to open my eyes, and my right eye partially opens to see the bright sun shining directly into my eye. I'm immediately blinded, and scream from the pain, then it fades as the throbbing agony in my head registers on my dulled senses.

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"Do you have a club card?" Suddenly I was snapped out of my trance. "Huh? Oh, umm yeah." I fumbled around in my wallet trying to find the card as she smiled at me. I could tell she was amused. I, on the other hand, was embarrassed beyond belief. How long had I been staring at her? "Here you go," I said passing the card to her.

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We'd met only a few hours before as we stood in the Sex Shop browsing over the assorted sex aids, magazines, videos and other interesting things. She was about 30 to 35, tall, blond and very, very attractive. Her breasts pushed attentively forward into her tight sweater and she obviously wasn't wearing a bra because her nipples were clearly visible. He was perhaps a few years older (about my age), slim, dark haired and, as blokes go, pretty good looking too.

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Liz Bradshaw prowled around her spacious apartment, a double shot of vodka in hand. Her angular face bare of any makeup, revealed a good-looking woman just shy of forty who was both lonely and depressed. Mr. Bradshaw had left with no warning some five months back. Liz later learned he'd run off with a twenty year old, leaving Liz with all the bills.

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It was a sultry July day as I stepped out of the taxi; Ali would have loved it. As I walked into the synagogue, however, I reflected how much she would have hated that. Ali despised all religion – I wanted to give her a humanist funeral, but whereas her family had totally rejected her in life, in death they had reclaimed her, doing their best to freeze me out entirely.

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Valiantly, she struggled beneath him, her face reddening, her breath raspy, her eyes trying to roll back in her head, her chest heaving futilely, yet being chained to the bedposts, all she could do was writhe between his clamping legs and try to maintain her focus upon his gentle, enraptured smile as he dipped his head downward to kiss her painted lips while maintaining the constant pressure on the ribbon encircling her vulnerable neck.

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What are your fantasies? What gets you off late at night when you only have yourself and your favourite toy? For me, my fantasy life is way more adventurous than my reality. In my fantasy life, I am seduced and made a sexual pet by Mrs. Walker, the hottest teacher ever. In my fantasy life, I am just getting out of my cheerleading uniform, when the whole football team walks in and has their way with me.

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»Oh oh oh, you HAVE to tell me all about it!« Nina's eyes got a twinkle as she rolled over in her bed on her stomach and looked at me. »Tell you what?« I acted stupid even though I knew exactly what it was she wanted to hear. »You know,« she gave me a mysterious smile.

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