Your erotic stories

Preamble – a delivery. The six foot, 210 pound guard dragged the captive blonde across the room. "Take your hands off of me, you goon." She yelled as she raked a heel down the shin of her assailant. He manhandled her towards the small dark room that was to be her home for the next weeks. "Hey you great lunk, be careful with the merchandise," her kidnapper admonished. "We don't want this one bruised."

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As a writer here, I am quite different. I write for women! I write in the 1st and 2nd person present text. I write for those women that are sexually bored, sadly underappreciated in their roles as girlfriend, wife and mother, or frightfully inhibited, but hiding a secret insatiable fantasy side...I write for those women that yearn to be in the grasp of strong, successful, attractive dominant men...men that are mysterious, successful, powerful, erotic.

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My wife has instructed that I write about how I became her cuckolded husband. Janet and I met through her deceased husband Thomas who passed away six years ago from leukemia. Thomas was an architect and he and I met on a building project. I am a professional contractor. My first wife Jennifer and I had one child after marrying right out of college. Not long after our first child, she filed for divorce when she found evidence I had strayed outside of our marriage.

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I am nervous as I walk up the stairwell. The sound of my shoes scuffing each stair reflects off the dingy once-white walls of the narrow hallway like an insistent warning, telling me to turn around and walk away with every step. Yet I continue, pursuing my chosen course with the same timid determination that has carried me through this day. Ever since I came out to my car and found the note tucked underneath my wiper blade.

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Just an exhibitionist fantasy with a slight bi-curious and bondage twist: We were so looking forward to this get away. It had been a long time since Dave and I had a chance to be alone together. You know how the rat race of work and children always seem to get in the way of personal time together. But, we finally got our schedules worked out and this was going to be just our week together.

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She'd been planning this day for weeks. He didn't celebrate holidays much, just marked the time passing. But she meant to change that. Holidays should be special, she mused happily. Valentine's Day especially! It's the perfect day to celebrate being alive and in love, a day to enjoy! He'd had to work that morning, but the evening she intended to be devoted only to him.

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The bedroom. Tom lay on the bed in his jeans and t-shirt. Pippa was stomping grumpily about the room as she undressed. "... so I ended up with a load of extra paperwork. Do you have to leave all these stupid books here?" Briskly matter-of-fact, she took of her blouse. Underneath her bra was the black one with red trim. Tom watched her tits on display in the tight fabric. His cock shifted in his boxers.

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Tony stood anxiously in his back yard looking up at the full moon. Earlier in the day he had shut off the breaker to the lights in the back taking the first step to his plan. The squeaking hinge had even been oiled something he had been meaning to do for quite a while. He had complained about the squeak a few times over the past week to help throw Alicia off from his plan.

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The sound of his Pet mewing and panting, as well as the sound of the Wand Love Seat's motor, brought him up short. Patrick's eyes narrowed slightly and curiosity made him wonder: how often had his naughty girl played when he was away on business trips? The level of trust had always been high, at least he thought it had been; it was for him. Why hadn't it been enough for Brittany?

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You come home from work and find me waiting for you. I am wearing a French maid uniform with white thigh highs and black stiletto heels. I lead you to the bathroom where a robe and toiletries are ready for you. Relaxing music is playing. "We have about half an hour until dinner is ready, Sir."

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