Your erotic stories

Erica was in my humanities class. I haven't seen her in five years. At the time, I was already looking for a real job and she was living in the dorms. We started talking—complaining really, early in the semester. The first time we spoke we were grumbling our annoyances with our professor, but a week later she was punctuating her sentences with emotive slaps to my shoulder as she shared her worries about our midterm.

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After my long and dull meeting ended I was eager to get away from the clichéd business speak and settle into a quiet bar stool for a slow gin and tonic. Maybe chase it with a beer. I took a walk several blocks from the convention center in hopes of not bumping into anyone I'd know and found a quaint little establishment that seemed perfect for what I was looking for. The lights were down low, the music not deafeningly loud and a cute bartender to boot. Perfect.

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Matthew's heart began to race as he saw the text message from his wife Michelle pop up on his iPhone. The last time he waited up for his wife, his ass had been sore for a week... Of course, in reality he loved every minute of it, but much like her seemingly-innocent text message, it was something that was kept close-knit between the two of them.

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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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