Your erotic stories

The setting sun lazily flashed and flickered off the final water jump. Caroline dug her boot heels in to goad her horse, Odyne, to complete the final jump. Before the ripples caused by the mud falling from the horses hoofs had reached the bank, she had crossed the line to what can only be described as polite, almost sympathetic applause.

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She was feeling a little nervous as she arrived. Mistress Heather, as she was known in the D/s community, was still a rather young girl of 23. She had been a practicing Domme for a little over 3 years, however most of those experiences were in the confines of a few of her college relationships. It had only been for the last 9 months that the blond haired Domme had sought more professional experiences with true sub girls.

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It was a warm spring night, for a dinner with friends at an upscale, trendy restaurant somewhere in the city. We both dressed a little nicer than the norm because the occasion and location demanded it. I was in a blazer, blue shirt and blue and green striped tie, but I couldn't hold a candle to how beautiful and sexy you were--a slim, shiny black cocktail dress, thin straps at the shoulders and a little lower in the front than usual. You also wore black stockings and heels. When you were getting ready, I caught a peek of my favorite black thong nestled in the front and rear of my gorgeous wife.

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My ex-girlfriend Tori and I dated for five years, and we had an interesting sex life during that time. She had a thing for kink, which I happily indulged in as well, but one particular encounter sticks out in my mind. We had a great time that day. We went to dinner and a movie, walked around the mall for an hour or so, and browsed the local bookstore. All the while we kept shooting each other flirtatious glances. I could tell, from experience, that she was in the mood for something, and I hoped she was picking up the same signals from me.

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When I got home from work, I knew I had to hurry. My wife Wendy and I, were going to my employers Halloween costume party. The party was being held at a very nice hotel that was far across town. I work for a large electronics firm and knew that they could certainly afford to throw a big party for everyone. Wendy was already dressed in her costume, when I got home. She looked really sexy. She was dressed as "Elvira".

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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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Moving and having to transfer during your senior year of high school is quite difficult to do. I had to leave all of my friends behind and start in a new school which would be difficult for anyone but when you are pretty much just an average guy ( not an athlete or anything like that ) you pretty much just blend into the surroundings. I did have one advantage, I was a good student in a private school which made me an excellent public school student. I was getting straight A's without much effort but unfortunately in high school this makes you more popular with the teachers than with other students. Did I say unfortunately?

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1. Watching the young man hungrily licking and sucking her toes as she lay on the cool floor of the back room of the grocery store, Christy grinned to herself. It was turning out to be a great first week of her holiday.

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It was called "The French Cafe" which would normally be the kind of place I would avoid but one of my co workers got me hooked on the french vanilla mocha latte. I now went there every Sunday like clockwork placing my order before sitting at my favorite table near the back. I would read my Sunday paper and watch the happenings in the small town I called my home. I didn't interact much with the people, that was my wife's job throughout our marriage, as she never met a stranger.

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The morning rush had already been hectic, and squeezing through a throng of people equally hell bent on making the same train, to the same station, at the same time; Amy Lynn Steele felt glad to just have a seat as she plunked herself down on the hard plastic and watched the outskirts of Boston zip past. She had done it now for the past sixty five days, and while she was beginning to get used to the routine, she was also getting used to seeing the same people aboard the crowded train.

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