Your erotic stories

I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand.

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Gwen couldn't believe they had actually found her guilty. In today's world of proving one's own innocence she had thought that her plea would ring in the ears of the jury, but they hadn't heard. And now she was on her way to Graverly. A tear slowly trailed down her face as she looked down at her body. She was already naked, having been stripped of her clothing while still at the courthouse. Part of the punishment.

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After many years I finally got that well deserved promotion. I had made some very simple plans of taking my lovely woman along for the celebration. I had already made reservations to the most expensive and classy restaurant in town. We made ourselves ready and were on our way out the door. Suddenly we both stopped as we looked longingly at one another. The restaurant, being high-class, required formal attire of their guests.

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Coming out of the bathroom, hair still wet from my shower, I stop before the bed. It's all there. He's laid it all out for me, and the tension that I had been feeling all afternoon ratchets up another notch. "Oh, god, oh god," I mutter, not really aware of what I'm saying.

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You and I are planning to get together. It is all arranged so I have a babysitter, and you have things worked out on your end. I call you at work, that afternoon, but you are in a meeting or something, so I leave you a message. I simply state that I shall expect you at 6 p.m, not a minute earlier or later. There are no 'brownie points for early arrival.'

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They were sitting on the couch in his room, him laid across her lap and her scratching his head. Who knows what they were talking about; hours had passed by but time seemed to have stopped. Somehow, they got on the subject of muscle kinks. "I don't know what it is but I get the worst knots in my back. Maybe I'm sleeping on it wrong...Wish I hadn't missed that massage appointment!" she said.

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I unzipped the bulging suitcase and frantically felt all around my clothes. I pushed down on the top of the pile until every inch of the suitcase had been covered. I felt nothing that would indicate a digital camera was buried inside. I gazed once more at the carry-on bag I had searched twice already. It was no use. The camera was nowhere to be found.

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I knew I was taking a huge risk. To change the game at this late date was to risk ruining a very adequate relationship. But, I knew I deserved more than adequate. I wanted so much more. I suppose a little background is in order. I am 43 years old, working in an office, I have a "boyfriend" that I see three to four times a week.

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We went out for a romantic dinner by candlelight at a small local restaurant. My wife was wearing a rather sheer black dress that wrapped at the top, showing a lot of cleavage, especially since she wasn't wearing a bra. In the right light, her turgid nipples were very visible. We held hands and looked at each other through dinner with lust in our eyes. My dick was half-hard all the way through the meal especially since I was wearing a thick chrome cock ring and no underwear.

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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.

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