Your erotic stories

"It was your job to get him here on time. You do know, I hope, that the Best Man tradition started as being the bride's Best Man because he got the groom to the altar. You should never have taken him drinking after the rehearsal dinner last night." "I never expected to get so drunk that I'd lose him." "Pathetic..." the last comment came from the corner of the tiny bridal waiting room at the old church. Kristy, Carol's maid of honour, "I bet you aren't even hung over because you're still drunk."

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Using a small brush to apply the last of her deep maroon lipstick, Mai checked her work one last time before leaving the bathroom and preparing to head out for the evening. She went over in her head everything she thought she would need, re-verifying for the third time that she had the keys to her apartment and her emergency money safely tucked away in a hidden pocket of her small party purse. She and her two closest friends were making it a girls' night out and going to a club they had never been to before.

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By the time our second meeting ended, I had decided two things. First, my Master was very, very good at what he did to me. And second, there was no way I could wait until Christmas for our next visit. Almost a month had passed since our second "date." I had been teased, pleased, fucked, and damn well tortured during our short time together. Even though he had to leave early, we kept in touch over the phone. His contact was addicting;

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Sylvia's Red DressI had bought a really nice, bright red dress to wear for a very fancy party—the kind of dress and the kind of party where I just couldn't go braless. Not really an uptight group, but one that I'm very high on and where I really wanted to impress everyone with how lady-like I can be.

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As James approached the front door he reached absently for the keys in his back jeans pocket, striding up the steps to the door. Without thinking he reached for the door handle, and to his surprise it opened without any need for the key. He paused momentarily. Strange. Even if Michael was at home it was unlikely that he would have left it unlocked.

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As you instructed, My Lady, I am recounting, from my perspective, what occurred last Thursday evening. If it would give you pleasure to write it, I would be so grateful to read your perspective on that night. I arrived at your door at 6:56 PM. Knowing that you value promptness and punish earliness (seen as uncontrolled impulse) as much as you do tardiness (an obvious demonstration of a lack of respect), I waited four minutes before ringing your doorbell.

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Dianne's boyfriend, Terry, was going to be home soon, so we had to wrap up our special afternoon. I began to pull my pants back up but the load of cum in my satin panties would surely soak through. "Wait, stop," said Dianne from the bed, her posture becoming more chaste after her open display of masturbation. Her legs pulled together as her hips turned. "Open the drawer behind you."

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I hung up the phone and waited to be buzzed in, maneuvering the box in my left arm so I could see my watch. Shit. Five after eight. Almost on time. Well, if I was going to be late, this was the night to do it. The normally frigid March weather was glorious. Most of the snow had melted and I'd opted for sandals instead of my usual choice of sneakers. How'd I gotten stuck babysitting on a Saturday night like this again?

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Stores were packed the Saturday after Christmas, with every imaginable gimmick in play to make a quick buck off those of us who didn't quite get what we wanted, or didn't get it in the right size, or who just wanted to window shop for deals. I was out and about grabbing dog food and some other necessities, and I gritted my teeth as I walked into yet another store packed to the gills with a pulsing mass of shoppers.

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Julie ran from the party as fast as her long legs would carry her. Her first college party had been a total disaster and now she was probably the laughing stock of the school. * She had been sitting with some of her girlfriends from the dorm at the local coffee shop. It was supposed to be a study session, but all her friends wanted to talk about was their boyfriends or potential boyfriends. Since she didn't have either one, she was feeling left out.

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