Your erotic stories

"There," she thought, admiring herself in the mirror. A cross stood out proudly on her chest, executed in black, cloth tape, the arms of the adhesive crucifix covering much of her breasts, the rest extending down her sternum to her belly. She adjusted her Catholic-school skirt, and reached for the makeshift headpiece with which she completed her revealing nun's habit.

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Sunlight in my eyes, burning through the eyelids, hot on the rest of my body, bad case of cotton-mouth, and an overwhelming need to take that nice long first leak of the day. Not the best way to wake up in the world, but not bad by any means. Last night came back slowly, and I recalled I was on the deck where I had curled up with a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream as the party wound down.

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“I’m coming over,” I tell you, purring into the phone. “I’ve done a little shopping. Be ready for me when I get there.” “What did you buy?” you ask me eagerly, “And what do you mean by ‘ready’?” I laugh, not cruelly but coolly enough that I don’t reveal that I am nearly as excited as you. “Patience. Some new toys for us to play with. You’ll see when I get there.

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After my sophomore year at DU, I decided to stay in town for the summer instead of going back home. I liked my apartment and didn't want to find a new one in the fall, so I decided to stay the summer and take a course or two.

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Imagine munching into a big ripe juicy peach. Sweet-sharp flavour bursts into your mouth. Juices you cannot possibly capture all of flow unchecked down your chin. Hedonism! You take another bite. The juices flow once more, but you ignore them. You take another mouthful and abandon yourself to the pleasure. They are ripe peaches, all the young mothers wheeling their tiny new infants in their carriages in the summer sunshine.

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“This is what I was telling you about.” My eyes opened wide as Adrienne handed me a magazine with her finger pointing to a picture of a black leather collar with chains attached to bind the users hands up around their neck. “I’m completely shocked,” I confessed. “I would NEVER have guessed you were into that sort of thing.” Adrienne smiled, a pink hue staining her cheeks in admission.

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I was supposed to be on my way home when something drew me to that strip club. I had looked up the website earlier in the day to masturbate furiously over the pictures of the dancers. My masturbation session ended abruptly and I was sent packing to run some errands. I'm just a normal guy and I do not frequent strip clubs. In fact it was only the second time in my life that I had ever gone to one.

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Marti was gone when I woke. The only evidence that she had really been with me was the rumpled pillow beside mine, and the pleasant soreness of my body. She had really given me a work out! Now what? I wondered. What kind of relationship were we to have? Was this just a one-night thing, an expression of intense lust? Or would it become something more lasting? I didn’t know, but I hoped I would find out soon. I had to be with her again!

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I guess I didn't know what I needed to set me free. When it finally came, it wasn't really like being forced, or made to give in to his desires. In fact, the whole night was more like living out a dream; it was strange, a little scary, and always threatening to come apart, exposing itself either as false or worse, as real and inescapable. But, it was the most difficult sexual adventure we've ever taken together, and I think it's what allows our marriage to work, as strange as that sounds.

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She took one last look around the room making sure everything was ready. A bottle of wine was chilling on the counter top and the candles were lit, long red tapers, just as he requested. A light mix of Jazz and Blues was playing softly on the radio. Taking a deep breath she positioned the straight-backed chair facing the door, put her blindfold in place and sat down to wait.

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