Your erotic stories

"You may enter the room now, sir." A pause. "Sir...Daniel?" I was off in my own little world, oblivious of the kind voice speaking to me. "I'm sorry," I offered, snapping back into the current reality. My eyes focused on the receptionist, a warm, middle-aged woman, smiling understandably at me.

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She stands in front of the apartment. Naked thighs cold from the wind swirling around the edges of the long coat she wears. She pulls the coat closer around her and shudders. He heart is racing as she raises her hand to knock on the door. Her nipples harden immediately. She knocks, once, then twice before she takes a small step back.

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I’ve always had a secret fascination with barber shops. I guess it’s because that’s where men are most themselves. When I was in high school, my dad would take me and my brothers along when he got his hair cut. Like clockwork, he would go to this seedy shop in Little Italy and get a trim and a shave from the owner, Tony.

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Mia flicked her long, dark braid over her shoulder and took in her work with a critical eye. Her compressed lips softened into a slow smile as her gaze swept from one side of the wall to the other. She planted her hands on her hips and let out a relieved breath, pleased with her efforts. Even with the scaffolding still in the way it didn't detract from the overall effect.

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I can't imagine an officer, at least one like me, ending up in a situation like this. It was humiliating...and strangely erotic. There I was, tied to a beautiful woman, both of us down to our unmentionables, while she rode me like a two-bit stripper and I tried my best not to embarrass myself by losing it right in my boxers.

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