Your erotic stories

We were in the middle of a meeting of the Auditorium staff when someone, Bill I think, came up with the idea to have one or more of us show up during an event and actually ask the people watching the event. We had been brain storming to come up with an idea to get people to tell us how to improve the service we were providing for people. One person thought we should change the name from Auditorium to Event Center, and advertise more of the type of events happening there.

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"That's my good girl," You praise me as you stroke my hair and pull it away from my neck and face. I am kneeling naked at your feet and you are fully clothed. You fasten the buckle on the collar you bought for me. The lining is soft, but the hard, strong intent to control me is inherent in the leather and silver buckled design. I look into your eyes with complete trust as you test the ring at the front of the collar, onto which you will fasten a leash.

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It's the end of the evening and we find ourselves in a luxurious hotel bar, it's late, the lights are low and we've been drinking, you've been unable to keep your hands off me all night and I've been teasing you with promises of what's to come. I chose my outfit carefully; a black lace body with a plunging neckline that exposes just the right amount of cleavage, a sequined skirt which skims my hips allowing for easy access and black patent heels that make my legs go on forever.

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PART 1 I race to a halt and stand panting outside the office. My feet are killing me. These new high heels are not made for sprinting. Gulping a few nervous breaths, I smooth down my pink top and white mini. The door is ajar but I knock anyway then take a few steps back. I look down at my fluffy pink purse swinging back and forth across my thighs as if it's as anxious as I am to get this thing over with. The door jerks open and I watch two slightly scuffed, black shoes step towards me. I dare not look up.

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Sometimes in life we become so lonely that we are willing to do most anything to fill the void. Frequently we do things that are risky and foolish. Often our high risk actions come with unexpected consequences. Clair Davis woke late that Saturday morning. As she sat up she looked at the digital clock sitting on her nightstand. The red numbers displayed ten thirty.

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I was to be the entertainment for this evening. I knew this. I had freely agreed to it. After all, my sex life had hit a very long dry spell. When Clarissa, one of my girlfriends, had mentioned this club that she belonged to - a "kinky sex club" was her description - it sounded like just what I needed.

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"Bingo, bingo, big money bingo! What's tonight?" "Bingo!" yelled the crowd of families and couples around the pool bar. "Oh Christ get me out of here!" muttered Julie from beneath her floppy sunhat. "I'm so bored!" "We picked the wrong hotel didn't we?" sighed her friend. "The hotel's gorgeous. It's the resort that's wrong." "Hmm...it looked closer to Ayia Napa in the brochure, didn't it?"

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Thinking back on it, I still ask myself, 'Did I really do that?' Let me explain. I owned a small house on the north side of Indianapolis, Indiana. Being young, I think I was 23 at the time, I took on a roommate to help me make ends meet. I knew that over a few years my income would rise to let me comfortably make my house payment, until then, leasing a room seemed to really make sense.

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I rested my neck on the edge of the bathtub and stretched my limbs, luxuriating in the warmth of the foamy water. I surveyed the unfamiliar opulence of my surroundings and sighed with satisfaction. I had learnt on my arrival at the resort hotel in Maui where I was to stay that my confirmed reservation had been deleted by a mysterious glitch in their system and that no rooms were available. Either my panic stricken face or more probably the fact that I am a claims agent for a major marine insurance company persuaded the management to get rid of the problem by upgrading me to a beach side cottage.

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Each year I travel to the convention at Hay on Wye. It's a small town near Monmouth in Wales that has the most amazing river close by where in my teens and early twenties I used to canoe. Now I go to this sleepy area for its once a year awakening where book sellers, buyers and authors come to share tales, ply their trade or just browse and pick up the atmosphere.

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