Your erotic stories

It’s not like I’m a very hateful person by nature, but at that moment in time, I was fuming. My soon to be ex-wife was making life pretty miserable for me. She was trying to take all my worldly possessions, including my hard-earned money, which was lying in a joint account in the bank. That’s why I was there. To take care of that and stop the bleeding a little bit.

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Wendy had spent the morning crying. It was how she had spent every morning of the past two years. It looked to be how she would spend every morning for the rest of her life. The physical suffering was no longer significant. He had said she would adapt, and she had. But the humiliation had never diminished. Rather, it had increased until she could barely think about the continuation of her life.

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I had never considered myself a submissive woman in any facet of life – until five years ago, when I learned that in order to get the kind of sex I secretly craved, I needed to submit myself totally. I was working at a public relations firm at the time. I had had an awful day-long meeting with representatives of the organisation I was commissioned to work for. They had been totally unrealistic about what was achievable in salvaging their company's reputation.

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Three hours on the road and Susan was already tired, tense, and almost giddy with fatigue, yet still more than an hour from the hotel and Joanne's big bachelorette weekend. She'd hoped to time her arrival so she'd get there sometime after eleven-- early enough to still make an appearance, but late enough that the girls would be too drunk to notice if she quietly slipped away to the hotel cocktail lounge in search of more interesting companionship-

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