Your erotic stories

(Item: Lyle Alan Buhr, convicted sex offender escaped today from the Barton County Jail in Nevada, Missouri. Buhr, who is a white male, 26 years old, 5" 11" , 190 lbs has been convicted in the 2001 rape and sodomy of a Monette couple during a home invasion. He is considered dangerous and anyone having information regarding his whereabouts is asked to contact the Barton County Sheriff.)

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How long have you been there? You have no idea anymore. The combination of the hood and the enveloping silence have deprived your brain of the information it needs to track time. All you know is that your arms hurt. More specifically your shoulders. Your arms tied up above you at the wrists mean you've been slung here on your knees with your full weight going through your slender shoulders all this time.

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My name is Ella and my story began before I was born. I was adopted at birth and my adoptive parents provided me with the best of everything. We lived in a large house set some distance from the road in manicured gardens set behind a high hedge. They were wealthy and made sure that I went to the best school and when I went to college my tuition was fully paid for by them, along with a generous allowance.

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Still hurt by the rampage that she had just endured, Elise wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. She still could not believe what had just happened and that she had actually enjoyed most of it. She sniffled and grabbed some Kleenex from the living room table as she pondered what her next move would be. The feelings that brewed inside of her made her sick, she felt violated and angry. Between her legs though, told a different story. Her privates were still dripping wet with passion and she felt strangely fine down below.

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Karen glanced at the clock, frowned, and realized she had probably missed the director of accounting by fifteen minutes. It was 6:45 in the evening, she was hungry and stressed, and this folder of papers was promised to be on his desk before he left the building. She picked up her phone and dialed the extension of his assistant. Three rings ... four ... voicemail. No one there. She pushed the handset hard into the plastic cradle in frustration, slid her feet back into her high-heeled shoes beneath the broad oak desk and pushed up from her tall, black leather seat.

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Recently I submitted a story that I wrote for my husband. Basically it described a gang bang I had with a University football team. The story was purely a fantasy and my husband loved it. He fantasizes often about me with other men. I on the other hand fantasize about being forcefully taken by a group of men. Handsome men of course. Well, apparently my husband shared my fantasy with one of his old college buddies...he even showed him the story I wrote.

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QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Part of the 'Butt Monkey' series of stories by Robert Furlong === I arrived at my office the next day to find an envelope on my desk with my name written on it in neat, if rather florid, handwriting. It read "Robert" which was slightly odd because everyone at work calls me Rob.

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To say that a month ago I was, on the face of it, prim and proper would be an understatement. Tim and I (Jane), met in our first year at high school and were inseparable from that time on and I guess it was always assumed by ourselves and our families that we would get married. Tim was everything I could have ever wanted - the proverbial tall, dark and handsome athletic sort, not to mention incredibly wealthy, once he had established himself in the family law firm which his grandfather had founded.

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I was working the night shift at the airport, supposedly saving the world from terrorists by making old people remove their shoes at the metal detector. The job was boring and the pay mediocre, but sometimes I could have a little fun depending on who I had to pat down. It was along time since my last relationship had broken up, I would take any action I could get even if it was just mildly groping cute guys who came through the line. Like the one that was just approaching.

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I was getting ready to take a shower when I heard a knock at the front door. I was naked except for my panties. I glanced at my watch. 9:15. It was a Tuesday night and I wasn't expecting anyone. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I threw on a pair of shorts and a button-up shirt. I went downstairs to the front door and looked out the peephole.

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