Your erotic stories

My pet had been very bad today. She was taking the day off from her internet professions and I was going into work. She begged and pleaded with me to stay home with her but I said I couldn't, and went to work. I hadn't been at my desk for five minutes before my phone went off. I checked it, and it was a picture that my pet, Rebekah, sent me seemingly in retaliation for not staying home.

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Understanding Kelsey -- I don't suppose a lot of this story will make sense to you unless you can understand my relationship with her. And I don't suppose even that will help unless you understand me. I am cute. I walk by and guys will give a nod, you know the kind, a quick scan for large firm breasts or a glance when I pass them to check out my ass.

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"Professor Hart?" She peered hesitantly around the doorframe. The professor sat at his desk, on the phone. Without interrupting his conversation, he nodded at her, pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk and gestured for her to close the door behind her. She sat, staring aimlessly around the room while he finished his conversation.

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It'd been storming outside for what seemed like days. Thankfully, my Dom and I had been well prepared -- we knew what was coming, so we stocked up on movies and groceries. Personally, I love nights like this, when the snow is falling and the world outside looks crystallized and beautiful. I love it even more when I can stay inside with friends or family and spend time together, warm and snug inside away from the chill.

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The 14th Anniversary A Valentine's Day Story She was kneeling on the hard surface of their sturdy couch table. It had been repositioned to face the entrance of their apartment; so she would be the first thing her Mistress would see when she came home from work. By then, she knew her knees and shins would be hurting, her breasts would be throbbing with every heartbeat, her nipples would have gone numb and her lips dry -- and there was nothing she could do about it.

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The moment he put the phone down I felt a surge of joy rise inside of me. Okay, that's strictly not true; it had been there all day, like a troupe of ballet dancers in steel-toed boots had taken up residence in my gut. I was behaving, I knew, like some dorky teenager about to embark on a first date. The fact was, I wasn't and neither was he.

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As she settled into the back-seat of the cab for her ride home after sharing some after work Christmas Eve drinks with some of her female co-workers, Danielle felt a touch of anxiety. This was a distinctly rare occurrence for this usually very self assured young woman. But this would be the first Christmas Eve that she would be spending with Reed since they had moved in together ten months earlier, and she didn't quite know how to react.

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In the darkness of the room, my eyes close and I listen to my breathing and heartbeat. The sheets freshly laundered, the slight sweetness of the fabric softener fills my senses. Gradually my body warms the bed and I doze off in the enveloping warmth.

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Different times demand different styles of play, and lately the intense play I crave has been on hiatus. This saddens me even as I welcome the new facet to our dynamic. Indeed, I begged for this, pleaded for it, and the outcome pleases me every bit as much as it does him. Still though, I crave...something. I'm not even sure what; I only know that I long for total, complete submission, being owned by him in every way possible.

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I wanted to grab a fucking bottle of vodka and chuck it. Or throw it. Or burn it. Extraordinary stress, huh? Yeah that is what I am feeling. Damn pissed off at Daniel. We had an argument last night about where we are headed and in the midst of it, he said we should part ways for a while.

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