Your erotic stories

My stories tend toward the nonconsent/taboo side, but I want to be clear that I'm in no way suggesting that the acts in my stories are okay. Forced sex is a fantasy I enjoy and I write for other similarly minded people. Real rape is ugly and sad, and if it's something you're considering acting out you should seek help.

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I set the weights down, grabbed my towel, and walked into the locker room. Sitting down, I removed my socks and shoes and pulled off my top. I stood up and pulled off my gym shorts and jockstrap. I put my sweaty clothes in my gym bag, grabbed a clean towel, soap, and shampoo, and walked into the showers.

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Jordan stepped outside his small London hotel and paused. His business here in England was completed and he had one more day to sightsee before his flight home. This late October day had been cold and drizzly since morning and he was glad he'd saved his free time for some museums. He held an umbrella and glanced upwards. The sky was nearly dark with the early winter night.

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It was obvious that both Steve and I were both comfortable with the ground rules for our encounters changing, during our last adventure with Tracy I had encouraged Steve to break our 'no penetration' rule by actually taking charge of his cock and easing it between Tracy's wet swollen lips with my own fingers.

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CRACK.........CRACK..........CRACK....... The sound of the paddle hitting against flesh echoes in your bedroom. Again and again, you use the wooden paddle to smack the bare ass of the man lying across your bed. "Do you like that, slave? Do you want more?" "Yes, Mistress, oh yes" "Well, unfortunately, it's time for you to go to work. Maybe if you're good, I'll give you a little more tonight."

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The neighborhood seemed neat, quiet, and well-established, a lot like Bette herself. The little apartment building fit the surroundings comfortably. I checked my directions one more time, and found her door, number three. I noted the silly coincidence -- this was to be the third time we'd been together. As I raised my hand to knock on the door, I noticed that my mouth had gone to cotton, like a nervous teenager. I guess you never outgrow some things. (I hope not!)

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Out of all the social functions I attended each year my favorite by far was Caroline Carson's annual summer kickoff party, held every June at her twelve room plantation home on the river. Caroline's parties were legendary in savannah's social circles; she picked the guests personally for each party.

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Part I The doors to the elevator close and we begin our long ride to the 25th floor. We're holding hands and you snuggle up to my shoulder. On impulse, you stand on your tip toes and kiss me on the ear. I turn and smile at you. You smile back. Again you reach up and kiss my ear, this time your tongue darts out and flicks at my ear lobe. I shudder and say, "Hey! What are you doing?" You just giggle in response.

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I'm writing this as I watch a copy of a video we made last Saturday afternoon. I should probably erase it, but I just can't seem to do it. We had a softball game, and afterwards I invited the guys over for a swim. Some of the guys just took a quick dip and left, but Andre, Carlo and Tony are single, with a reputation as the party animals on our team, and they stuck around for the rest of the afternoon.

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My wife Jane has a brother named Steve. Steve married a Mexican girl name Rosa. Rosa is from medium sized town in central Mexico. Last July My wife Jane and I went on vacation with Rosa and Steve to her hometown. Instead of staying in a hotel, Rosa arranged for us to stay for free in some friend's vacation house. Rosa and Steve stayed with her family. A couple blocks and a central plaza separated the two houses. 

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