Your erotic stories

"Mistress LF Slave Boy. W4M, 18-28" was the title of the Craigslist add. Trey, a 25 year old beta male, had taken to perusing various personals listings. He wasn't much of a bar kind of guy, nor did he know much about how to go out and meet women. Sifting through the postings mostly made by men Trey had managed to come across several listings by women that seemed potentially promising. Unfortunately he'd never gotten the nerve to actually try and contact one of the listing parties.

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I had only been out of work for a week, and already I was getting bored. And that's a bad thing for me . . . to be bored. It's how I always get into trouble. Okay, it's one of the ways I get into trouble. So here I am, back home in the mountains of Tennessee, and I need something to do. It's beautiful here, and very secluded.

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She awoke softly, a gentle breeze blowing across her exposed skin. She looked up and smiled as a sparrow hopped along her open window sill. Stretching, she turned her gaze to the clock... 8am... still early. She lay there, basking in the warmth of the sunlight, not quite ready to get up and out of her comfy bed. Her slender hand covered her full pink lips as she yawned softly.

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Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Turn. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Turn. Kayden's feet were wearing a path in the floor of her hotel room but she couldn't stop. Conner was going to be there any second. He had already called her a couple of times on his way over to inform her where he was.

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Lena hummed tunelessly to herself as she put away her groceries. Her voluptuously curvy figure, kept in check by four sessions of yoga a week and strict adherence to a healthy diet, was cased in snug denim and a soft knit sweater. Lena tried to keep her kitchen stocked with only healthy foods—whole grains, fruits and veggies, Clif bars. She knew that if she let herself snack on processed food, her toned waist would gradually expand and soften, and she refused to let that happen.

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Our physical difference was striking. I'm a brute—at least I look like one. Over six feet, with broad shoulders and thick legs, I dwarfed her barely five foot frame. Where I loom, all burliness and beard and full, round ass, she receded, her thin arms and legs topped by a spindly bottom and slightly sunken cheeks that were the most obvious sign of her fifty-nine years.

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"What's this?" I say pulling my long silky black hair up and in a loose bun. "I hope you like shrimp scampi, Ms. Lily," Josh offers. He turns from the stove wearing only an apron and drops to his knees and crawls behind me. It's six-thirty p.m. and my houseslut pushes his tongue the length of the crack of my perfectly-tight bottom all the way to small of my back.

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Gale shivered, even though she could feel the warm afternoon sun on her naked body. She pulled on the strap wrapped around one wrist and then she pulled with the other arm. Her arms were over her head and spread wide apart. Her legs were spread as wide as her arms and tied in a like manner.

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I stared out of my corner office, and took in the view. The view was some guy in the corner office of the next building, staring right back at me. Inspirational. How had it come to this? When did my life go wrong? I was very successful at my work. I was also very unhappy. The money was great, the hours were not. The business was interesting, the people were abominable. The prestige was a source of pride.

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I have been married for close to eight years. My wife is what some consider a BBW, or a SSBBW, she is 5'11, medium length brown hair and hazel eyes, beautiful breasts that sag just a little, an ass that you want to grab from behind or smack and watch it jiggle, a tummy so soft you can't help but rub it, and thighs that are so thick they are better than any vise. God I love her.

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