Your erotic stories

Tyler and Johnson walked into the holding cells as soon as they had their orders. There, in the largest cell, Tyler saw her as she stood proudly with hands on hips. She was gorgeous, there was no doubt. Certainly the hottest, and youngest, enemy agent he had ever seen. He certainly wasn't about to complain about this assignment, or the manner in which he was instructed to carry it out.

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"Oooo... don't you feel like the big strong man, tying me up," Vicky laughed a little as her boyfriend tightened the scarves around her wrists. She'd been looking forward to this, as one of her fantasies, being tied up and helpless while her gorgeous boyfriend Doug ravished her. "I might have to put something in your mouth to keep you quiet too," he mock-growled at her, pretending to get angry.

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Pleasantly surprised when answering the door, but instead of inviting her in, Shawn joined the euphoric teenager on the front deck. "You look happy," he smiled, eying the tight microskirt, enjoying the sight of luscious tan legs. "Ah, that's right! Today was the big day, wasn't it? Live up to expectations?"

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Sweat dripped her brow. She smoothed her skirt over her nylon-clad thighs. Slender legs led to fuck me pumps underneath a cream-colored business suit tailored to show off her every curve. She looked one last time in the mirror, tugging her brown curls. She tucked one behind her ear before walking out of the bathroom and down the hall towards Bruce Callahan's office.

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The sun is setting on this Friday marking the end of a work day and work week. I watch the dynamically shifting color change while my car speeds along the two-lane highway. Although your email lacked specific details, I grabbed my backpack and jumped in the car anyway the sheer thrill of a weekend with you sets me in motion.

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I'd just showered and put on some make up when I got a text from you. "Just landed, at baggage claim, can I stop by for a bit?" It had been over a week since I'd seen you and I wasn't really expecting to for another day or two. You'd been stuck in California for days longer than you had expected. "Of course" I replied.

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I took a long sip of my dirty martini and leaned into the bar, staring resentfully down towards the end of it. My boyfriend of three years, Ryan, was still engaged in conversation, feeding his ego with clever banter. I noticed the familiar animated expressions, grand gestures, and overly enthused laughter that captivated the small crowd of people he was talking to. I sighed heavily, and settled back onto my bar stool and played with the spear of olives in my drink.

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I've always been a gadget guy. As a kid I was the one who took all his toys apart and put them back together. I built a bike with two frames and a long chain so I could ride around taller than the other kids. When I was old enough I bought two junk cars and made one good car from them. Building stuff and fixing stuff so it was better than when it was new has always been fun for me.

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He keeps saying that it can't happen again. Every time, as soon as his afterglow wears off, the guilt and self-loathing kicks in and he spits out those words that always make me smile. He is so adorable, trying to fight this like either one of us has a choice. I keep telling him that this is bigger than both of us, and he would be much happier if he would just give in. Give in to his fate...the way that I did the very instant that I saw him.

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"You ready to stick that bad boy back in my tight little ass?" Ashley sneered, turning her heads toward me, looking back, as I crawled and knelt obediently behind her outstretched rear end. "You bet I am!" I exclaimed, eagerly positioning myself, ready to target and plunge my readied spear into her open exhaust shaft. I couldn't believe I was in the position, literally speaking, immediately behind her California grade juicy ripe piece. Only a few hours prior, I had finally met Ashley, the anal goddess.

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