Your erotic stories

I looked up at Emma's beautiful body, marveling at its perfection. She is athletic and toned with pert B-cup breasts which were quivering. Her face is heart-shaped and crowned with thick ash-blond hair cut to a medium length. Her eyes were closed, and her pink lipped mouth was open. I let my gaze travel down her smooth creamy flesh noting the trimmed line of her pubic hair. God I was going to miss her!

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I hurried out of the building, my cock hard and dripping copious amounts of precum, staining the front of my slacks. I awkwardly attempted to cover myself with my briefcase as my mind raced. "Did that really just happen? Did one of the most powerful industrial giants just use me as his cumslut?" I hailed a taxi and offered a generous tip to get me to my hotel as quickly as possibly. Ten minutes later and $30 poorer, I was safely enclosed in my suite at the Hyatt.

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The first thing I noticed when I woke up is that I was unable to move anything but my arms. I was lying naked, on my back, strapped down onto a padded leather surface. I couldn't really see what was holding me in place as my head was tilted back quite far by a wide leather strap wrapping around my forehead.

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"Just take it," my best friend whispered in my ear before switching aisles. Like a pro, she pocketed a pack of gummy bears to go with a bag of chips. It stunned me that she could be so apathetic about the whole thing. Stealing? I'd never stolen anything in my life -- not even first base! Yet with nervous hands, I picked up a little baggie of Swedish fish, and looked towards the register. The man there was sitting with his feet up on the counter and his head down, staring into a home and gardening magazine.

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My name is Kay. I'm a 31 year-old, happily un-married middle-class white woman with a marvelous life - except for being addicted to sex. Maybe it's only the risk factor that I'm addicted to. I honestly don't know, but I do know I'll sometimes take awful risks to anonymously and spontaneously fuck total strangers. There, now that I have that part out of the way maybe I can also be honest with the rest of what I want to explain.

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As ever, it began quietly. A look, an 'accidentally' raised hemline, stooping just too low allowing the valley of your breasts to cascade across my view as you brought my Rioja, but it built rapidly. I think it was twenty minutes ago that you abandoned all pretence of subtlety and reappeared in a little black dress.

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Tiffany Andrews arrived early for her appointment with Miss Elizabeth Jones, Principle of Hedley Coleville Academy. She had only been to the office of the exclusive school once before, when she had enrolled her two children, Amber who was 12 and Derrick 10.

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I'm a sucker for a deep authoritative voice. Few men understand how powerful their voice is or the effect it can have on some women. Like me. The right words uttered in a certain tone are guaranteed to snatch my breath away and cause an instant puddle between my legs. In such a mood, I don't want to be asked what I want.

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How long have you been there? You have no idea anymore. The combination of the hood and the enveloping silence have deprived your brain of the information it needs to track time. All you know is that your arms hurt. More specifically your shoulders. Your arms tied up above you at the wrists mean you've been slung here on your knees with your full weight going through your slender shoulders all this time.

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It all started with a simple statement. A promise perhaps. They were laying in bed one night during the week after she had just come off of his lap from one of her good girl spankings and rewards she always craved. She looked up at him, a smile across her face and at that moment, he told her that he had something special planned for them this weekend.

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