Your erotic stories

"Welcome to Pierre's. My name is Jan. How may I help you?" These were the first words spoken to me by the extraordinary redheaded clerk at the high end lingerie shop that I had just walked into. She had light accent, but I could not quite place where it was from. It sounded British to me, but could have easily been Irish, Scottish or even Australian.

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I was really not looking forward to Julia's daughter coming to stay with us. Mike's sister Julia has always been what I consider a slut and every time we have been to visit them, I have gotten the same impression from her daughter. It turns out that what I consider a slut may be a little harsh.

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"Please. Please...don't stop," I begged, hot and desperate. Right now, I thought as my mind raced, I'd give anything for the tongue that was buried deep in my pussy to send me over the edge. It was beyond skilled, having brought many girls before me to orgasm after orgasm with its quick flicks and expert movements. I moved my arms in an attempt to grab a fistful of hair, to pull that tongue further into me, only to remember that my wrists were bound to the wrought-iron bedposts above my head.

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I was watching a movie the other day, with academy award level acting by the way, where a housewife fucks the plumber when he came by to "fix" the pipes. It reminded me of a role playing situation, I found myself in quite unexpectedly one night. It involves me, a certain man of whom I had a very active sex life with (two guesses for my fans), and

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"That wouldn't do for you at all!" Steph jumped as a hand reached out and pulled the red and black corset from her hand. "That's tawdry. You're way too classy for that!" the girl repeated. Steph turned to see the critic. A tall, elegantly pretty girl stood beside her. A gamine face, tip tilted nose, a wide mobile mouth and very large blue eyes smiled merrily at her.

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I felt a bit disoriented as I woke up. I was lying naked in a bed, with a sheet over me, but I couldn't see much further than the end of the mattress. I tried to gather my thoughts and remember how I'd gotten here, but I couldn't seem to concentrate. I thought I could see movement in the shadows around me, but I couldn't make out any shapes.

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Her hand reaches out to beckon me forward. She stands behind me, soft hands slowly rubbing down my arms as she presents me to you. The anticipatory sparkle in your eyes sends tingles through my nipples. She looks at you and smiles, communicating in a silent language the sacrifice she has on offer.

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"Hello?" I answered the phone after a couple of rings. I had been upstairs reading. "Raynne, it's Steve. I need your help." Steve was a friend of mine who I frequently had sex with, most times including his room mate. He sounded urgent. "What's up?" I asked, hoping I wouldn't have to leave the comfort of my home on my day off.

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I have watched you for hours. I have watched as you slept, watched while you bathed, watched as you raged against the hated space I keep between us. I have watched you and grinned to myself, knowing that you are completely unaware of the study I have made of you: your habits, your mood swings, your needs. You believe there is no interest there, no need, no want. Your belief is wrong. One day maybe, I will show you.

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The two girls were home for their first summer break since leaving the small town for College. They had parted company for College as they had been accepted into schools in different States. Now was the first opportunity they had had to exchange stories about their new experiences. Tabby had rung Lana the night she got into town. They had talked for hours but now they were going to meet. It had been agreed that each girl would bike to a secluded spot they shared near the river. Many a lazy summer afternoon had been spent on the grass there exchanging secrets.

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