Your erotic stories

The soft creaking of leather and almost musical clinking of chains filled his ears, but behind that was another nearly constant sound. Quiet, almost barely voiced moaning and whispered pleadings, punctuated with gasps of pleasure or pain. It was all dark for Andrew, the supple leather covering his eyes effectively cutting out even the smallest glimpses of light, but he knew full well where he was.

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Eleanor Martin sat naked on the toilet seat, waiting for the results from the ovulation test strip. This was the ninth day in a row she had used the kit, and so far she hadn't tested positive. The thirty nine year old housewife was beginning to grow frustrated. She and her Husband Robert had been trying to have a baby for over fifteen years without any success.

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I was expecting a normal shift when I arrived at the police station. I'd just changed into my uniform, checked my make-up and was on my way to report to the desk sergeant, when Dougie Wilson, one of my colleagues and a complete arsehole, intercepted me with a grin. "Hey, Fraser, Chief Inspector McFarlane wants you to report to his office as soon as you get in. Been a bad girl have you?" Pausing only long enough to tell him to piss off, I made my way along to 'Super Mac's' office.

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Disclaimer: I enjoy writing these stories, both for your entertainment and mine. This story involves, gay sex, non-consensual sex and bi-racial sex. If this offends you, read no further. Like most writers, I do appreciate your comments and votes. Thank you. * It was 1996, my first year at college and my first time so far away from my home, my family and my girlfriend.

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Cindy sat at her dining room table and sipped a glass of wine. In front of her were two letters and two small piles of photos. Aside from some soft music coming from the stereo the large house was empty and quiet, as it had been for much of the past six months.

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Stores were packed the Saturday after Christmas, with every imaginable gimmick in play to make a quick buck off those of us who didn't quite get what we wanted, or didn't get it in the right size, or who just wanted to window shop for deals. I was out and about grabbing dog food and some other necessities, and I gritted my teeth as I walked into yet another store packed to the gills with a pulsing mass of shoppers.

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I got your e-mail. You said you voted me a five. You were so sweet I wanted to meet you and thank you Tammy style. I was going to be home in Indiana for Thanksgiving, you suggested a meeting place. I showed up at the Radison Hotel in Chicago as you had arranged. You said "You look just like your picture" I giggled and said, "You were kind. I look nothing like my picture." I was sure you recognized me from my chest whoppers.

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Valerie Templeton was a beautiful woman. Every time Tommy went to his friend Mike's house he loved to watch her. The way she moved, the open way she talked, and of course, the wonderful way she smelled as she walked passed him. Mike and Tommy were on the front porch just making plans for the weekend when Mrs. T pulled in the driveway. Mike kept talking about where they would go and who they would meet, but Tommy was no longer listening.

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“Gentleman, you have never, ever seen a magic trick like this. Porn meets illusion.” Fuck David Blaine. And the over-hyped, under-achieving shit that he peddles as magic. Sure, the street magic stuff is okay, but there’s no fucking magic in standing on a pole. Or in a freakin’ box. For Christ’s sake.

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"When a person does not give up on sex, sex does not give up on the person." (Gabriel Garcia Marquez) Tania sat on an air mattress beneath the old apricot tree that was one of the trees that constituted the orchard part of the garden. Beyond the orchard and screened from her sight by a high brush fence was the swimming pool from which emanated the cries, squeals and laughter of the young people, Peter, her son's friends.

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