Your erotic stories

Summer at last, a day at the beach, you bloody beauty, but hang on, I suppose some sort of intro is necessary I guess – my name is Devlin Watergate, I'm 46, widowed, I have a 22 year old daughter who is the spitting image of her mother, presently overseas working for the Australian High Commission. She comes home occasionally which rather cramps my style a little, but having her home makes up for that.

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This is the homework of my slave Gabi. My name is Gabi. I'm from Austria (a German-speaking country near Germany). My Mistress ordered me to write down this story. As a matter of fact this is not really a story – as it is not fictional. This is the description of my first meeting with My Mistress. Mistress Cornelia is my Mistress. I'm one of her slaves and I love to submit to her.

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The early morning flight settled softly onto the runway rousing us from our light slumber, the heat of the day burst into the cabin as the main doors opened and the fragrant smells of the island filled the air. We made our way out, gathered our luggage, & shuffled through customs before we finally climbed into our rental car. Kate navigated as we made our way across the island the small beachside villa we'd rented.

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Natalie settled into her overstuffed armchair, pulled close to the small space heater. The wind howled, rattling the windows as it rattled Natalie's nerves. Sipping hot tea, she stared at her journal opened before her. This was Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, and she had been spending the evening focusing on the fact that she was alone, and had been for too long.

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We must have lain there for about 2 hours sleeping in each other's arms. When I awoke, for a minute, I thought it had all been a dream. My head was a little foggy between the nap and the mental exertion from the whole day. I opened my eyes and ran my hands over a firm naked back. I smiled when I looked down at the sleeping beauty that I had in my arms. She was nuzzled in between my tits and resting her head on my right one.

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A shapely chestnut-haired girl frolicked through a meadow with careless ease, her long red hood trailing behind her as she carried a basket full of pastries on her way to her isolated grandmother's house. Unbeknownst to her, exploring the deepest, most wooded areas of the forest, there was also a young man. A young man who suddenly came upon a path, which he followed to the very same meadow filled with tiny purple flowers.

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Brooke lay back on the bed and her hands drifted across smooth, warm skin. She grazed one of her thick, dark nipples and it stiffened. Goose bumps rose on lush breasts and damp labia began to swell. She wished Allison was stroking her body, making her wet, making Brooke cum.

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At 30, the peak of my female hormones screaming at me to do something with them other than finger my softest parts, I found myself still alone. I was afraid I wasn't beautiful enough, yet every time I looked in the mirror (other than on fat days) I thought I looked pretty good. Sexy, even. Long dark hair, pretty eyes, and a nice (though not perfect) line of curves that complimented the mild tan of my skin.

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"Please. Please...don't stop," I begged, hot and desperate. Right now, I thought as my mind raced, I'd give anything for the tongue that was buried deep in my pussy to send me over the edge. It was beyond skilled, having brought many girls before me to orgasm after orgasm with its quick flicks and expert movements. I moved my arms in an attempt to grab a fistful of hair, to pull that tongue further into me, only to remember that my wrists were bound to the wrought-iron bedposts above my head.

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