Your erotic stories

Amber shivered as she was led into the room. A million things were going through her head. She wondered how many men were in the room with her and what they were thinking. The blindfold prevented her from seeing anything and there was an uneasy silence. She was nervous. Nervous and afraid. What were they going to do with her? Her mind raced. She thought of what she must look like being led by a leash into a room wearing only a fishnet body suit and a blindfold.

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She sat with a glass of red wine listening to slow instrumental songs. She was remembering the past with her ex-girlfriend, Pria, the girl she had arranged to see today. They had quite a fiery relationship, and even though they seemed to hate each other now, they still had a passion between them. Danielle dropped her head into her hands as she sighed deeply, trying to think of how she would handle this conversation.

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I shifted my computer bag on my shoulder as I hustled down the corridor. I hated being late, especially when it was my own presentation. I was cutting it close, very close, and at these things audience reviews were everything. The last thing I wanted to hear from my manager was that my reviews sucked because they were preoccupied by my tardiness.

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He was 34 and had been in her sandwich shop a few times now. And he was handsome too; but running a busy shop and with a family of her own, most conversations with customers were cordial. So when the franchise company had their annual meeting at the hotel and she saw him there, they had a laugh but it was all very cordial. At 42, she didn't think she had much appealing about her but she was wrong.

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As she stood viewing herself in her black outfit consisting of a mesh/solid skintight sleeveless shirt and tight soft leather flare pants. Spike heal boot on to add just that few inches of height. Rich strawberry-blond hair gelled back into a ponytail that reached the middle of her back. She'd done her make-up skillfully, black of course to match her outfit even her nails.

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Your heart is thumping, the adrenalin and anticipation beginning to be usurped by arousal. This whole scenario has an element of the surreal, and yet you stay fixed to this spot. He stirs behind you, moving close enough for his cologne to caress your senses, even if his hands are yet to.

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I want Daddy to sit in his chair, with the paper, reading. I want him to look up, and see me on my hands and knees, my tail butt-plug deep in my ass, brushing my thighs. A cute pair of ears on my head, and the collar and tag around my neck... and nothing else on. I settle at your feet, and rest my nose against your thigh.

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Do I have issues with my wife? No. Do I love my wife? Of course I do. We have been married for awhile and together way longer than that. So as always happens we had become accustomed to a certain way of living. Not that it was bad, but it was predictable. Work all week, me wanting sex during the week and the wife just too tired. Scheduled love time on the weekend.

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It was the wrong choice of swimwear, and I was headed back to the guest room to rectify that, when the cause of it all stopped me in the hallway. The new owner of our company had invited me to his country place for a weekend to discuss some details of a project we were working on, and it turned out there was a pool party included. But, not knowing that, I hadn't brought my suit. I had assumed this would be all business. So there I was, having to pick out a loaner suit from Thad, my boss, and I'd picked the wrong one.

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It had started as a playful exchange online, but each seemed to know the rules and what was expected. The inevitable meeting 'for coffee' had been eagerly anticipated by each and the time spent in each others company had been as expected; polite, amicable, flirtatious and with a building tension of expectancy.

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