Your erotic stories

I'd been to the July 4th parade every year for over ten years, but this was the first time I was alone. My kids had all left, and before that, my wife. Where they went, or why, wasn't on my mind. What I felt was alone. When my kids were younger, the parade meant fire trucks, horses, old cars, marching bands, maybe even an army tank or troop carrier. I never used to pay much attention, since I had to keep an eye on the kids.

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Julie sat on a plastic crate in the family room of a house under construction, pondering her options. Both wrists were bound to a rope hanging over a wooden beam high above her. She was naked except for a small blanket thrown over her shoulders. In front of her, a large picture window allowed her a view of the nearby sidewalk and busy street.

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I've always been a bit of a tomboy. Who am I kidding? I am a down-and-dirty, in-your-face tomboy trapped in a little girl's body. Now before you guys get all pervy on me, when I say 'little girl' I mean my body has the physical attributes of a 13 year old girl but I'm actually 21 years old (nearly 22-please send birthday greetings and cash if you have extra).

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He had no idea how long he had sat there holding her hand. Time was gone. She lay so still. She looked so tiny. How often had he admired her body before and never noticed how small she really was? He closed his eyes and remembered her bound and squirming with anticipation, the sheen of arousal on her skin, her heady scent. All that was now masked by the hospital smells, the bandages, and the machines.

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Jake was 18 years old. For all intensive purposes he was normal. Except for one itty bitty thing. He wanted to sleep with his mom. This disturbed Jake to no end. It certainly wasn't normal and made him feel awkward around her. His mom was none the wiser. Being a very open and liberal mother didn't help his appetite at all, especially since she would often walk around their house in nothing but a shirt and her panties. Every time Jake would see this he'd have to control himself. Every now and then she'd give him an innocent hug, but to him it wasn't so innocent. He'd steal a chance to brush her butt, or her boobs. He'd pat her back to see if she was wearing a bra. She rarely did in the mornings.

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James had an elegant evening on the town planned for night three of domination week. Dinner at their favorite restaurant, and a nice show. Oh, and a little bit of revenge for having been denied relief the night before. He went home during his lunch hour and laid out one of Sarah's loveliest evening gowns, along with the shoes and undergarments he wanted her to wear.

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"Unnngggh," I groaned as my alarm beeped me into consciousness Monday morning. I considered slamming my fist down on the snooze button, as usual, but then I remembered that I had a psych exam in an hour, and I blew off studying last night. "Damn," I mumbled, turning my alarm off and crawling out of bed. I stood up and stretched my arms over my head, yawned, and scratched my chest. I gazed out the window and groaned inwardly as I saw heavy sheets of rain pelting campus walk. This is going to be a bad day, I thought.

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Although he had thought about it so much over the years, he was just not prepared for it. He ran the scenario over and over in his head and he could always be suave, witty, charismatic, and romantic. But when it actually happened he was like a deer in the headlights. The softness of her hand on his at first nearly overwhelmed him because for so long he had wanted to know what she felt like. And now that it finally had happened it was so much different than he imagined.

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It was just a few weeks before graduation, my daughter Tracy who had been a member of the cheerleading squad had come and asked my wife and me if she could have an overnight party with the girls on her squad as a sort of graduation, going away thingy since most of them probably wouldn't be seeing one another again after that. Already eighteen by then, and wanting to give her a little more freedom and trust since she too would be going away to school in a few months, my wife and I agreed to let her and her friends over to party and enjoy the pool, provided it didn't turn into some wild-assed party with a bunch of their boyfriends showing up and crashing it later.

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I picked at the edge of the cardboard beer mat in frustration. She said she'd be here at seven. I checked my wristwatch. Eight pm! "Take a goddamned hint, Valentine!" I pushed away from the bar, snatched my jacket off the stool and abruptly shrugged into it. Somehow, somewhere, my wires got badly crossed...my instincts let me down. It wasn't like me.

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