Your erotic stories

Valiantly, she struggled beneath him, her face reddening, her breath raspy, her eyes trying to roll back in her head, her chest heaving futilely, yet being chained to the bedposts, all she could do was writhe between his clamping legs and try to maintain her focus upon his gentle, enraptured smile as he dipped his head downward to kiss her painted lips while maintaining the constant pressure on the ribbon encircling her vulnerable neck.

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The Gold Lounge was about half-full. It was a Thursday night, the first night of the convention that brought her to Vegas. Her co-worker, who was also a good friend, had taken a taxi to the Barry Manilow show, and Joy had opted out. On account of her being Manilow-Intolerant, although she had simply feigned a deep desire to relax and explore their hotel.

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"Put it on." A flash of black flying through the air, and then, there in my hands, a blind fold. Play time. Mmmm yes, I so love play time. Lickety split, I covered my eyes, making sure I couldn't peek, turning my head, this way and that, trying to peer beneath the fold of fabric and failing. I wouldn't want to be caught cheating.

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