Your erotic stories

I had been waiting for months for an opportunity to try my new contraption out. Let me back up a little. I am what you would consider a bondage addict. I have always thought of it as being taboo thoughts so I am about as much a closet bondage addict as one can get. For years I would buy adult magazines and have to go to really sleaze places to find what I wanted, then I was so embarrassed having them I would hid them in cracks and crevices I'd find around my living quarters so no one would ever know. My mom and dad never knew, my roommates in college never knew then later in life my wife never knew.

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Cocksucker. I've been called many things in my time, occasionally in anger but often in the heat of lust, but that one is my favorite. Cocksucker. It's just so descriptive, so simple, so accurate. If you've called me that the chances are I've probably sucked you dry. My name is actually Alicia. I suck cocks. I'm an oral woman. I smoke too much, I talk too much and I chew gum too much.

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She reaches up & turns the radio a little bit louder. Dipping her hands back into the soapy water she goes back to washing the dishes. Her body sways as she dances & sings along with the music. He stops in the doorway, silently watching her as she moves. Looking her over he smiles, completely nude save the silver collar around her neck & the leather ankle cuffs. She has grown accustomed to being naked, even come to like it.

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The night was your friend. It was always important to remember that. The night was your friend because in it you were dominant. In it you had the control, the power and the mastery. The night was your friend because you made it the enemy of those who deserved to be your enemy. It was a mantra that The Wight repeated to herself regularly, and not least before starting a patrol.

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I was very curious about the lifestyle of the submissive female and how it would feel to surrender complete and total control of myself to a very dominant male. After several days of chatting with various men online, I finally found the male I was after. He was very cocky and sure of himself. I was made to call him Master from the moment we met and was instructed to write to him using only the color pink in my messages.

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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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Alex couldn't stop thinking about Serena. The paperwork below her was an unintelligible mess; her computer screen was a blur. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Serena's bound body, writhing on the bed as she exploded with orgasms. Every beautiful facet of that experience was tantalizing her in that moment. All desire beforehand, tempered in comparatively tame fucking, built up to an excruciating release.

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It was late summer and the beginning of mine and Christina's senior year. We had both just turned eighteen and we were eager to have fun. She was five seven, Italian, had smallish breasts with dark red nipples. With nipples that were continuously erect and an ass that was more than generous, Christina had men following her around like a bunch of hound dogs chasing a raccoon...

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Do I have issues with my wife? No. Do I love my wife? Of course I do. We have been married for awhile and together way longer than that. So as always happens we had become accustomed to a certain way of living. Not that it was bad, but it was predictable. Work all week, me wanting sex during the week and the wife just too tired. Scheduled love time on the weekend.

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Amy's first day working at the library started off with about as much excitement as one would expect. That was fine by her, as she preferred the quiet and the library was a good place to find it. The aisles and bookshelves seemed to go on forever, full of books to discover and quiet places to hide away and read them. The campus library was also the least likely place to run into the kind of boys she wanted to avoid.

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