Your erotic stories

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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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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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 looked at the time, I was getting excited because I knew I was almost off work and soon would be coming home to you. I had called you letting you know I'd be home in a few hours, so you had plenty of time to bathe and do your thing. You sounded so good and yummy it was very difficult to concentrate on work. I hate it when two hours seems like ten, but that only happens when there's somewhere else I'd rather be, and where I wanted to be was with you.

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Graphic lesbian sex, questionable consent, and...well...blood-drinking. Also more than likely entirely derivative, albeit subconsciously. If any of that disturbs you, please skip this one. Comments welcome!

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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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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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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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