Your erotic stories

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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I had been waiting for months for an opportunity to try my new contraption out. Let me back up a little. I am what you would consider a bondage addict. I have always thought of it as being taboo thoughts so I am about as much a closet bondage addict as one can get. For years I would buy adult magazines and have to go to really sleaze places to find what I wanted, then I was so embarrassed having them I would hid them in cracks and crevices I'd find around my living quarters so no one would ever know. My mom and dad never knew, my roommates in college never knew then later in life my wife never knew.

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Cocksucker. I've been called many things in my time, occasionally in anger but often in the heat of lust, but that one is my favorite. Cocksucker. It's just so descriptive, so simple, so accurate. If you've called me that the chances are I've probably sucked you dry. My name is actually Alicia. I suck cocks. I'm an oral woman. I smoke too much, I talk too much and I chew gum too much.

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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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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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