Your erotic stories

Sarah woke up to the phone ringing at 8:00am on Saturday morning. "Hello," she mumbled into the mouthpiece. "Good morning Sarah," a deep masculine voice greeted her. She immediately woke up, sitting up in bed. "Good morning Sir," she replied. She was a weekend sex slave and usually was at her Master's house by now but he had requested that she stay at home in bed until she heard from him. He had a special day planned for her and she was to await his instructions.

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He stood by the corner, hugging a bag of films and lenses as he watched me posing shot after shot. I couldn't look away. He had the most arresting eyes. [Those swirling depths of brown]. He'd always stand by the side, watching the photo session silently with the most penetrating gaze. "Christian! Can you please concentrate!" Ruben Anders, my photographer, chided.

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"Oh yes, unh, yes, we can do that, uhh, sure, tomorrow, ahh, three thirty, uhh, okay, see you then, uhhh...Mariss' you lil' devil!" Andrea Vaughn snapped the phone shut and slid forward in her high backed leather chair. It had become increasingly difficult to discuss terms with a potential advertiser while her lover/partner was between her legs licking her pussy.

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He's sitting on the train, in a forwards facing seat, an uneventful trip as usual. It's not too crowded, he's managed to find a seat on his own, not having to press up against some old woman or smelly youth. There are several seats vacant in the train now as the journey continues. He casts an eye around the train, nobody of interest catches his eye so he returns to his book, trying to concentrate on it and getting lost in the music pumping through the earphones of his Ipod.

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PART I I let Michael move into my house because I needed to offset some bills, thus share the rent. He was a long-term friend, someone who I thought I could live with. He had a good job, and nice stuff... a bonus. Plus, there was something about him... something I couldn't put my finger on, but he had an effect on me that I could not explain.

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It started with Sasha. I met her online in a chat room and we hit it off and have been having very sensual role playing scenarios and just hot erotic conversations about various aspects of sex ever since. She is an extremely sensual erotic woman and her descriptions of her body make my mind work overtime producing fantasies and images. After a while, I learned she had a roommate that was equally into role playing named Nikki.

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First, let me start by saying that up until the events in this story, I was, by most accounts, a prude. I mean, sure, I had had lovers growing up, and I was by no means timid in bed. But I was raised by very stern parents who advised me that my body was mine and mine alone and I should only give it willingly to someone who loved me and treated me as I deserved to be treated.

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Although Jo took Ann to the same area several more times following their encounter with the voyeur, the man never reappeared. At least, not physically. But he remained vivid in Ann's imagination. At home, Roger's attentions continued to be spasmodic and unsatisfying, and while meetings of the Friday Flower Club, supplemented by private sessions with Jo, delivered orgasms of varied intensity, Ann was growing conscious of something missing.

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My preference is for stories are all about the sex rather than with vast amounts of background, so this is in that vein. The plot is based loosely on a story I read many, many years ago; I don't recall the author or title. I'd love to say this happened to me but that would be ludicrous: the scenario is a sexual fantasy and not meant to be completely realistic.

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You are standing at the bar when a stranger comes and stands next to you. You are aware of their presence and you feel a warmth coming from there body as they stand in close proximity to you. Your senses become aware of the scent of leather and a pleasant smell of some exotic cologne.

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