Your erotic stories

I stopped swimming through the fluffy blackness of sleep. Yup. Time to wake up. The black took on a warm, deep tone, changing from the surreal darkness of dreamland to the darkness created by closed eyelids. I lay in that darkness and smiled to myself. Life felt very good. I took a deep breath.

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Dear Jane, I got your letter - it was wonderful! I'm so happy that you liked my story about me and Monika, and I loved yours. Honestly, it got me more excited than anything I've read for ages, and I'm looking forward to hearing more about you and Penny some other time. Talk about a small world.

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Neal wasn't the sort of guy people noticed much. He could walk through a room of people talking—even a room full of people he knew—and get to the other side without being greeted or noticed. He could have conversations with strangers and then the stranger wouldn't recognize him if they met again. He was a guy of no standout talents, no distinctive looks other than being smaller of stature than his age. He wasn't ugly; he was just plain and forgettable—and a little scrawny.

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It was dark, in this tiny little ocean town. The smell and taste of salt was exhilarating to Loki, as he looked around. No one had seen him come, stepping down and out of the Bifrost. He picked a direction and walked, passing houses and cross streets and yards and cars, simply walking. It was fall here, the air crisp and clean, shivering with change and a playful wickedness. It was a beautiful night, the harvest moon shining an eerie orange in the sky, and everything was mysterious and lonely and filled with a sort of longing that made him ache.

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Let me take a moment to thank al those who have written to me, sent pictures and e-mails. I want to thank ladies and the few married couples first. I think it is wonderful that mature couples can read my stories and get a warm glow that last thru out the day. I have made friends with a lady near my age that is also a widow. We have much in common and are going to meet shortly to exchange experiences of your lives.

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To call the private studio of the Dominatrix a dungeon would, for the fortunate, earn only her contempt. Eschewing the contrivances of male sadomasochistic fantasies, the walls were painted a passionless shade of gray-green, the oak floor polished to the luster of ancient gold, and the sole window decorated with an embroidered ivory curtain, now closed.

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PRELUDE Coleen entered my office and sat in one of the chairs at the small conference table. It was time to conduct her performance review and I had the prepared documents on the table. I closed and locked the office door and then I put the door brace in place to guarantee that we would not be interrupted. I turned toward Coleen and she smiled at me knowing what was to come. I spelled out the approach for the morning.

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So there I was with a knot in the pit of my stomach. My heart was racing and my hands felt shaky and weak. I was so nervous and scared I wanted to run away, but I didn't. I told myself no, I'd waited too long for this and chickened out too many times. I'd fantasized about this for years, now I was determined to make the fantasy become reality... 

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He noticed the hotel room door was open, and couldn't resist peeking inside. He saw a woman inside, spread out on the bed, deep asleep. She was still wearing her party clothes...high heeled sandals, black stockings, a marilyn monroe-ish halter dress that barely contained her big tits.

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My tongue is about an inch from Nicky’s asshole. It’s such a nasty sight. The dildo is poised. It smells of my pussy, which was where it was on the journey here. That was the last thing Nicky did when we left the house. She pushed me up against the wall, produced a dildo out of fucking nowhere, and shoved it up my cunt.

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