Your erotic stories

As he departed his office, Brian Miller noticed that the wind was blowing harder than he thought. He should have left sooner, but wanted to make certain the Ford Enterprises Gulf Coast office was secure. An inconsiderate Category 2 hurricane was approaching and had chosen late evening to arrive. The building had survived previous storms and would, no doubt, make it through this one. But still, the hatches had to be battened down.

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The red-headed man blew the whistle around his neck, and everyone's attention turned to him. He was balding and bearded, and a little overweight, but his bright blue eyes twinkled merrily. Other than the whistle, he was wearing only a pair of tennis shoes, and he carried a clipboard. "OK, then! The teams are assembled, let the games begin. We who are about to cum salute you! The first event is the wheel-barrow race.

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Her Frame of Mind Boredom! Absolute boredom! And of course, the elixir, alcohol was part of the equation! How else could one explain a reasonably attractive, articulate, mostly responsible thirty-six year old woman going to a roach palace motel with the intent of fucking two men she hardly knew? It began late on a Friday night. With her second scotch in hand she wandered about her room wondering what she could possibly do next to make the night go faster.

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It was my second month on the job and the telephone on my desk had rung out one clear bell before I picked it up. I recited my memorized greeting down the line. "Good morning, Tennessee Steel, Mr G's office, my name is Portia, how may I help you?" "Portia, hello it's G," came the voice on the other end. "Got some colleagues coming in from interstate a little later today. I need you to book 9 holes at the golf course and lunch at the country club for us. That should pretty much take up my afternoon so could you clear my schedule to make room for that?"

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Todd walked down the empty road searching for any place that might have a phone he could use. It was a cold, dark and rainy night and he couldn't believe that he was stuck out in the middle of nowhere. It was just his luck that he would buy a used piece of junk truck. Everything had been going fine up until he got lost in the backwoods looking for some out of the way strip club.

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Kathryn's visit to town was, of course, a welcome event. It seemed like a year since I had gone to Hartford to visit her, though it had only been two months, now it was her turn to visit me. I had picked her up at the airport and brought her back home on Thursday night, where we knoshed on fresh shrimp and dry grape soda. After that, we made passionate love and fell asleep in each other's arms. All in all, a pleasant reunion. But it was only the beginning...

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I was nervous in the car as he drove to the club. Steven picked out my clothes – a very sheer yellow tank top with a short denim skirt. My hair, long, dark red, and curly, is framing my heavily made up face. He told me to put a 'sluttish' look to my face and smiled at the result. His fingers stroked my thighs the entire ride there and he talked about the fun we'd have.

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It was one of those casual mid week deals. Our new neighbors had gotten settled and invited us over for a glass of wine and conversation one Wednesday evening. We met them a month or so earlier at a house warming and ever since been exchanging what we call "The Neighborhood Benediction", those drive by waves and smiles we all exchange around here. Of course I had a few conversations with Andy – the male member of the household – as we took care of outdoor chores, and found him interesting and likeable.

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Carol had been teasing me all day – not a verbal kind of teasing, but teasing of a more exquisite, physical kind that had me fraught with desperation. Teasing that had me lusting for her. She had begun with her smutty talk, guaranteed to light the fuse of my desire. I loved it when Carol talked dirty; she always gave the impression that she was unapproachable, she possessed a somewhat aloof air, but I knew the real woman, I knew the true depths to which she could sink.

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'Damn him,' I thought, angrily stomping out as the door slammed shut behind me. Even on holiday he could find something to moan about, maybe its time I started looking for a new Master! Let me explain, by nature I am a very submissive person, perhaps you might even call me a pacifist, under his tutelage I had become his slave, his slut and his whore.

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