Your erotic stories

My wife was preparing her lunch for work as I finished my morning coffee. I was home for a few days after another long stretch away at work. I had arrived late the previous evening after she was asleep and tried my best not to disturb her as she had a full work day ahead of her. We hadn't been able to spend much time together lately and we both needed some time to reconnect. "Any plans for today?" she inquired. "Just catching up on what I've missed over the past few days."

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Meg's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled into a parking space in front of the condominium. She was having difficulty believing that she had agreed to this. What in the name of God had her hormones gotten her into this time? Where was her mind when she visited that Internet chat room? It had been hard enough to admit that old desires had begun to surface again but to actively go out and seek someone who could help her fulfill them was madness.

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By the time our second meeting ended, I had decided two things. First, my Master was very, very good at what he did to me. And second, there was no way I could wait until Christmas for our next visit. Almost a month had passed since our second "date." I had been teased, pleased, fucked, and damn well tortured during our short time together. Even though he had to leave early, we kept in touch over the phone. His contact was addicting;

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Chapter 1 The Preparation I stood back to look at my handiwork. Cindy, my pet and the love of my life, was stretched into a picture frame; she was going to be my canvas and my masterpiece. At 5'1", she has a slender, athletic build with a petite 34C-20-34 figure.

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The bell rings. I look through our bedroom window. Isabelle, a small and beautiful woman, my wife Anne's best friend, is standing in the rain. I run downstairs and open the front door. "Come in, come in," and I make an invitational gesture, not realizing that I'm still holding a knife in my hand. "My God," Isabelle gasps, "what's that big knife for? Cutting meat or something?"

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It began at dinner. The humor and banter of table conversation was punctuated by her meaningful glances and significant smiles. She wove her emotional cocoon around his mind slowly and carefully, channeling the conversation in the direction she sought, teasing and seducing him with voice as well as words.

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It all started with a simple statement. A promise perhaps. They were laying in bed one night during the week after she had just come off of his lap from one of her good girl spankings and rewards she always craved. She looked up at him, a smile across her face and at that moment, he told her that he had something special planned for them this weekend.

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As the car idles in front of the school, in line with all the other parents waiting to pick up their children, I take out my phone and call you. "Hi, baby," you say, the tension in your voice coming through the line clearly. "Do you need something?" "I was just about to pick up the kids and thought I'd see how your day is going and if you wanted something special for dinner. Is Michaels still breathing down your neck?"

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I recommend that you read chapter 1, 2 and 3 before delving into chapter 4, but here is a quick recap reminder of what happened. Eighteen year old Kevin Lansing came home to find his older sister Hannah licking his twin sister Kristen's hot pussy. He quickly stripped down and joined in on the filthy fun, where plenty of licking, sucking, tonguing and fucking took place. Later, their mother Krystal, a dominant mistress, and father Kevin, a submissive pet, came home and the fun continued.

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Michael Powell was exhausted now. He lay very still, taking small, shallow, quick breaths. On his lumpy single bed, staring at the cracked, white ceiling of his room, Michael recounted the events of earlier that night, in his own private mind movie. He took one deeper breath, closed his eyes and smiled. He opened them again and reached over to pick up the toilet roll from the floor at the side of his bed.

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