Your erotic stories

The cock was so huge, not all of it fit into her pussy, but Savannah enjoyed it nonetheless. The man above her seemed to be enjoying it too. Kyle's green eyes seemed to glow in the dim lighting of her bedroom; his face was twisted with his effort as his hips pumped harder and faster against her. He seemed to be nearing the peak but Savannah wasn't quite ready for him to finish just yet. Taking him by surprise she pushed him off, rolled him on to his back, and quickly straddled him.

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Valiantly, she struggled beneath him, her face reddening, her breath raspy, her eyes trying to roll back in her head, her chest heaving futilely, yet being chained to the bedposts, all she could do was writhe between his clamping legs and try to maintain her focus upon his gentle, enraptured smile as he dipped his head downward to kiss her painted lips while maintaining the constant pressure on the ribbon encircling her vulnerable neck.

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After 32 Valentines Days spent together, her mind contemplative as she thinks of something unique, something that will take his breath away as surely as the merest glimpse of him turns her to a quivering mass of aroused and wet female flesh. There is time, she grins and reaches for the phone. She spends the next three days buying and arranging her assortment of Valentine gifts for her husband.

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When I'm evaluating a sub, I always look at the eyes first. The eyes tell whole stories about their owner. You can practically touch the anticipation and apprehension flooding out of a first-time sub's gaze. The more experienced ones tend to glance around eagerly, with only a little bit of anxiety or an obviously fake fearfulness. Kaitlin's big, brown eyes instantly drew me with their poise and eagerness, promising an intense experience. She met and exceeded that expectation.

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When the phone stopped ringing I heard a soft feminine voice at the other end. "P.S.L. May I help you?" "I think you can." I said, "I need to hire a female model for a two hour assignment." "Yes, Sir." She connected me to another young sounding woman who asked lots of questions about the assignment and the look I was after.

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Invocation: Blessed be Akana, she whose name is Beautiful Cruelty, Terrible Pleasure, Sublime Pain. Edriel was so thoroughly absorbed in the pornographic scroll that he didn't notice the high priestess until she planted her foot squarely in the middle of a particularly delectable picture. "Oh, Mistress Sekba!" He snapped his head up at her, blushing as he stared past the red linen loincloth and up to the firm, small breasts, bound perfunctorily with a strip of black silk.

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It was the long holiday between school and University. Guy and Billy had come back from back-packing round Europe together, and were now completely broke. They had bumped into Gemma and some of her friends in a pub in town, and over a few cocktails (for which they had to scrounge some of the money), discussed their various experiences since leaving school, and what they were planning to do next.

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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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I walk into your darkened room, everyone but you is gone or at work. You don't hear me as I get closer to you. Your stretched out across your bed stroking your cock, watching a big breasted woman sucking dick on the T.V. Silently I move through the dark side of your room until I'm just behind your bed, watching you gently squeeze your balls and continue to jerk off that magnificent prick.

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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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