Your erotic stories

When I first saw Peggy Sanford, she impressed me as a very prim and proper, classy, country club wife. After five minutes of conversation, the fact that she was married to a much older man who keeps her in a very comfortable but unsatisfied sexual lifestyle surfaced. She works and travels, not for money, but to escape the life that she has been trapped in for many years.

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Casey stood in front of the full-length mirror. She had just finished a long hot soak in the tub and was wrapped in a fluffy white bath towel that covered her from her breasts to mid thigh. It was the most excited she had been in the five years since she started her private security business.

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Angie checked her appearance carefully in the full-length mirror in the lavish hotel room. She smiled in satisfaction. She thought the silver dress was absolutely perfect. She wasn't wearing any panties or bra under it because that would spoil the look. The metallic material shimmered over her body as she moved. Its tightness outlined her ample breasts, and the lush curves of her waist and hips. She adjusted the tops of her stockings on her thighs.

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I had just parked my truck, which sometimes can be not exactly an easy thing to do. It took me at least a half dozen trips around the parking lot looking for a space large enough. That is because it is a huge Dodge crew cab, oversize duallies on the back that sort of stick out. Yep, she needs a bit of room. I opened the door and had just put my foot on the running board to step down, being careful to not let the door scrape the top of the little thing parked in the next lane.

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So, 'V' and I are chatting away when she says to me 'why is it that all D/s stories are written from the sub's point of view. Why is it never from the Domme's. Take Summerhouse Blues, I really love that version of the Rhonda character and yet all we hear about is how Tracy feels. What about Rhonda, what did she make of it all?' And that got me thinking. 'V' was right, there's a whole different side to Summerhouse Blues, another story and one that ought to be told.

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Westin Peachtree Four years ago my wife, Mary, and I had a night on the town in ATL and it turned into something incredibly unforgettable. We were made spectators, then participants, in a gang bang at a highly respected and rated ATL hotel, the Westin Peachtree. The WP is a 70 story hotel with a rotating restaurant the top, in the heart of downtown Atlanta.

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I walked home in the glaring sun as sprinklers tinkled on the lawns of our neighbours and sweat seeped slowly into my clothes. I wiped my brow and held the straps of my backpack, beneath which the thin material of my school shirt was nearly saturated. The temperature had risen steadily over the past week and the heat wave was now at its peak.

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I had turned into somewhat of a zombie over the last few months , working constantly and moving more product than I had in years , not that I needed the money or the rush of a constant danger of rivals or being caught by the feds.

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In the previous chapter Fact or Fiction with my lovers called back to war, I was left standing on the steps waving them Goodbye. If you haven't read that chapter then may I suggest you do so. Again many thanks to all those offering encouragement: The one problem being, is the more encouragement I get, the longer my episodes become.

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I was divorced after nearly twenty years of marriage. It was an old story. College sweethearts marry. Husband wants to be a doctor so wife drops out of college to work and put him through med school, then quits when hubby becomes a doctor. After twenty years, hubby hits midlife crisis and decides the only way he can rediscover his youth is to trade in his forty for a couple of twenties.

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