Your erotic stories

Chapter One: Summer 1972 Leo Cassaro was a middle aged man who lived with his 19 year old son Alan in their suburban home. His wife - Alan's mother - had left Leo four years earlier when she had discovered that her husband wasn't faithful to her.

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I suppose a lot of people would consider me to be a slut now. But I don't think it's my fault, really. I mean, what else could have happened? I was one of those girls who started to flower into womanhood early. I was a skinny young girl who wore a B-cup brassiere when I was still in the sixth grade. I was completely embarrassed by my development. I dressed to avoid showing my rapidly blossoming femininity. Layered clothing became the norm along with a shoulders-hunched-forward posture.

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Daisy took her time dressing for the party. She wanted to look sexy and provocative. Her braless tits and hard nipples poked shamelessly through the tight red cotton top cut above her pierced belly button. A tiny black skirt barely covered her ass cheeks. The eye shadow was heavy and the lipstick bright red.

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"Go piss off and walk your fucking dog!" My girlfriend shouted at me for coming home drunk late last night. My girlfriend and I share a flat. A new place we recently moved into and a new neighbourhood for us. And as you have gathered, we have, well it's my dog. I had slept most of the day and it was around six o'clock Friday evening. Yeah I know, lazy bastard. Well we both had a few days off work for the move. It was Friday, and we also had the weekend off. I was out with a few mates drinking, chatting, drinking, eyeing up girls, drinking... you know what young men get up to in their early twenties.

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When I was 19-20, I worked as a production assistant for a TV show which I won't name. It was not a huge deal. It was steadily successful in a small way, and is still on today. It was a fun job. Most PA jobs are not. You run shitty errands and never get appreciated. Usually the boss treats you like shit. This job was different. People were friendly.

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The Gash was the worst beat in town, and being the cop working it meant that you had three options: get promoted and get reassigned, leave the force, or wait to die. Cops had a shorter lifespan in The Gash than a white-girl's virginity did in a rap concert. I had worked this beat once, before I took done a cop-killing drug-dealing Puerto Rican slut named La Zorra and made vice. There was no need for me to come back to this shitty-ass place, but I wanted to. The Gash was my connection to someone I cared about. Someone who needed my help.

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It had been a great massage until I turned over and realized he was naked and had a huge cock hanging over his big sack. I had thought he paid a lot of attention to my glutes and while it had excited me when his fingers brushed my ass hole a couple of times, I figured it was just part of the process.

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Life was good for a marauder. Here they sat -- circled around a bonfire, roaring and laughing, a successful week of raiding and plundering behind them -- now with beautiful, buxom wenches riding their cocks. It had taken quite some effort for these great warriors to arrive at this place with such bounty.

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Just a taste for all those who dig the sickness in my mind. It will be a while before I can complete my new stuff as I have things in my life coming up to take my time. But it is time that will hopefully recharge the mind's eye and focus it to a better level than before. To those of you waiting patiently for Becoming the Dominus 4 it is under construction and will hopefully be out soon. Enjoy this little tidbit if you will and feel free to enjoy it. By the way this is a work of fiction so I did borrow a name or two but not anyones intentionally.

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N.Y.C. 1971. .......... Chapter One: Stranded in the Big Apple. Everything had gone so well up to the point when I took out my wallet to get my bus ticket. It was a small grey stub that was going to get me on the bus for my return home to Plattsburgh, New York, and when I didn't find it right away, I didn't panic but merely stepped out of the line to allow the more organized travelers to get on the bus.

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