Your erotic stories

This Ella's story. She is real, as are Dani and Gabrielle. Part of the story is true... the rest is Ella's fantasy. I've reflected exactly what she told me. For those who don't enjoy stories with interracial lesbian domination or reluctance and coercion as their themes, thank you for stopping by but please pass on.

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"Sure" you texted me. It was a simple, unvarnished word, but in this instance, laden miraculously with the stuff of utter elation. I had arranged a trip out to the mountains on a pretext with the hope of seeing you for the first time. It was a very adult thing, I reflected on the flight over.

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This is a continuation of Ella's story. She is a real person (as is Gabrialla) and chapter 2 moves from fact to her fantasies. The story focuses on a dominant interracial lesbian theme. If this is not to your taste, thank you for stopping by but please pass on this and move onto a different story.

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It was an ordinary day except for the fact that it was only mid-morning and I was aching for a good hard orgasm. My husband had been out of town for a few days and before that had been my time of the month. It had been a good 10 days since we had a nice rousing session where all the right buttons were pushed and an amazing gasping, moaning, climax was ripped from me. As described in my prior stories, my husband and I enjoy our own flavor of a female led marriage (Nothing more gratifying provides the best background, but all of my stories provide different bits and pieces).

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Picture me if you can, wearing nothing but a vest and boxers, handcuffed by my wrists and ankles to all four corners of Salima's luxurious 5 star hotel room bed, and blindfolded with precisely 3 pairs of her unwashed stockings. Needless to say, I've certainly looked better. At this point, I was starting to have real reservations about the woman's sanity because just who brings 2 pairs of handcuffs along with them on a business trip?

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Bethany Paige had beautiful huge round wine glasses. They were fish bowls with stems. Not only were they enormous, but there were so many of them. There had to be twenty-five people stuffed into her Williamsburg loft and every guest held one of these goblets. Plus there were a few dozen more perfectly arranged in a square on the butcher block topped island in her kitchen.

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I first met Nicky at a pub we had both visited to watch a live band. The band rocked out and was on good form, but she caught my attention really quickly. Sitting on the other side of the room, she stood out straight away - she was the only one in the room with auburn hair, and I have a bit of a thing for red heads. Her hair was all the more striking by the way it contrasted with her pale white skin.

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"If this does not solve your issue Patrick. I swear to God I am going to fire you as soon as you get back." "Yes, sir." Patrick muttered as he hung up the phone. Patrick was sitting in some therapist's waiting room. He looked around at the cream-colored walls as he debated reading Newsweek. He decided against it and his mind wandered.

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The heat was almost unbearable in South Georgia last July, when my wife and I were there for her brother's wedding. The temperature was in the mid nineties by lunch time, and I was wishing she hadn't volunteered us to be the child care while all the other females in the family went to a bride's lunch. Apparently, my wife, Paige, would rather entertain 6 kids than go to a stuffy lunch at the country club.

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1 'Wow, this is some paradise huh?' My wife asked as she lay down on the sunbed and took in our surroundings; we lay next to the swimming pool, surrounded by coconut trees, only a stone's throw from the tropical, white sand and blue-green sea. 'Yeah,' I agreed as I had a quick scan of our surroundings, taking in all of the bikini-clad women as they walked around in front of us; 'this place certainly has some great views.'

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