Your erotic stories

Graphic lesbian sex, questionable consent, and...well...blood-drinking. Also more than likely entirely derivative, albeit subconsciously. If any of that disturbs you, please skip this one. Comments welcome!

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Chapter 1 I'm a pretty relaxed guy, I don't get upset about most things, I can usually go with the flow but I did realize that I did have an obsession that started about five years after we were married. It started when I was looking through some boxes in the attic, trying to find my high school yearbook. I had a reunion coming up in a few months and wanted to refresh myself on the names and faces from my youth.

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"Would you like something to drink? Coffee, a soda, a glass of wine, something stronger, maybe?" I offered. "I know I could use a shot of something." Paula smiled, putting her purse down on the end table and taking the clip out of her hair, letting it down, shaking it out a bit before she nodded. "Coffee would be good, maybe with a bit of Bailey's, if you have it?" I smiled and nodded, then turned to Evan.

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"Half an hour to go," I thought. We closed at six o'clock on Fridays, and I was definitely ready to go home. It had been a long week at the shoe store where I worked. Michelle, the owner, had decided to hold a big summer sale to try to boost the business. It's hard for a small boutique store to compete with the big chains, so I understood the need, but it had been a crazy week. Michelle did a good job promoting the sale.

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"So, come on, tell me!" Jessica looked up at me, smiling, her head resting on the pillow next to me as we lay in bed, our naked bodies still glistening with sweat. Her left wrist resting on my chest, her thin fingers tracing tiny circles as I breathed heavily, having just had an orgasm a few minutes previously.

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In those days, I didn't wear underwear. I had long hair down to the small of my back. I was in good shape, lean and muscular, a bike rider with thick legs and a laid-back demeanor. You probably know the type. So a certain kind of woman often responded to me. A certain kind of man, too, although I'd never given that a thought. For my part, here's what I liked in a woman: Natural, sensual. smart. Sexual intellectuals. Open and daring, although even if they weren't, I usually got them there pretty quick.

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I felt a bit disoriented as I woke up. I was lying naked in a bed, with a sheet over me, but I couldn't see much further than the end of the mattress. I tried to gather my thoughts and remember how I'd gotten here, but I couldn't seem to concentrate. I thought I could see movement in the shadows around me, but I couldn't make out any shapes.

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It was the second summer that I worked for our local public library but this time, I was assigned to a different branch from the one last year, which had been the branch I generally went to. Now, before I tell you about what happened, I'll tell you something about me, after all, I do work in a library so maybe I'm not the senior all-star quarterback. And I'm not.

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Jack twists his head from side to side in a vain attempt to crack his neck. The last college student has finally walked out of his last class of the day and he's looking forward to getting in and out of the office as quickly as possible so he can enjoy the long weekend. Shouldn't be hard to do since it's so late in the afternoon and he'll probably be one of the few left in the suite of offices, much less the building.

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"You will wear the blue skirt!" she tells me, reaching to pull it out of the closet. I am already wearing the corset; black satin, laced, long suspenders linked on to sheer black stockings. Fishnet, she says, is tacky. Personally I think the whole suspenders-and-stockings thing is tacky, and much prefer bare flesh, but then, it's not for me to decide.

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