Your erotic stories

He obeyed so well. It was one of her favorite things about him. Her other favorite thing about him? The way he disobeyed. Tonight she'd push him to his limits and test his devotion. She had to. If he succeeded, she would collar him. She'd searched for weeks for his collar, the one that would fit him perfectly. One that fit them perfectly. It was black leather, dark, soft and supple.

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Paul's out tonight and I am thinking back to our honeymoon, just a few weeks ago. Some of my readers have been asking me to write about the honeymoon sex, but most of it is really too intimate for me to write about. But I think I can write about the last night without giving away any secrets of the heart.

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"You like it that way, baby? You been keeping secrets from your man?" I hear your words from the hall, where you stand, having pushed open our bedroom door. I left it a bit ajar when I lay down, knowing you were at work, never dreaming you'd come home early and catch me at my afternoon play. Or did I?

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Looking around the room, she made sure the candles were in place. So many colors, shapes and sizes, yet they fit with the décor, adding a hint of mysterious shadow in one spot while dispelling shadows in another. Colors, blending with orchids arranged amid baby's breath, complementing framed artwork hanging above them, enhancing deep rich hues of hanging drapery and reflecting off gleaming woodwork, each had its place and was ready for the match.

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Doctor Charlotte Preston sat in her dark grey wingback chair and quietly tapped her pen against her folio papers as her client rattled on about his latest setbacks, as he saw them. She had been trying to concentrate all day with little success, Jackson was coming in for his appointment right after lunch and she could barely contain herself.

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I stand and watch her walk toward me. Her fingers are cool and dry as she places the collar around my neck, nimble as they buckle it in the back, the leather touching my skin all the way around, not tight, only touching. I feel her breath stir my hair. A snort of laughter escapes me and I stifle it quickly. She pauses, her hands still on the buckle, and leans around to look at my face. "Yes?" she inquires, lifting an eyebrow, that same slight half-smile barely curving her perfect dark lipsticked lips.

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Kathy stood for a moment, looking around her, all her senses alert. Her ears open to the crunch, crunch sound, maybe a hint of his manly smell, a glimpse of his black coat. She had been here for over an hour, time had dragged and now she was buzzing to see ' the man'. That's all she knew about him, a man who roamed the woods as eloquently as she did.

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My new tenant is such a joy to have around. Take right now, for instance. This is my day off and as I write this story he is under my desk curled up keeping my feet warm like a good housecat. Later, he'll help me get ready for my date. Then, if and when I make it back, he'll be waiting to take care of all my illicit desires.

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"You just don't get me, Marcus." The words pierced right through his seemingly frail exterior. This kind of fight had been all too familiar for the last few weeks of their relationship. Kim wanted him to give her more satisfaction in the bedroom but Marcus was too much of a worrywart and relaxed man to give her the kind of action she so desired.

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"We were lucky you know, Bunkum Boy," said Hoodoo Girl when they held their after fight review. "If Dr Dragoon hadn't made that one little slip we may not have been able to stop him this time." Bunkum Boy just laughed. "He always makes that one little mistake, though, Hoodoo Girl," he pointed out. He looked across at the picture of Dr Dragoon on the front of the report and laughed again.

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