Your erotic stories

Long day at work, she thought to herself, taking a swig of diet coke and placing it back into the cupholder. Road signs, stop lights, and pedestrians blurred past her as she drove home. She was already planning out her evening, starting by taking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and immediately making herself a very tall scotch—on the rocks, of course.

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I knew I was taking a huge risk. To change the game at this late date was to risk ruining a very adequate relationship. But, I knew I deserved more than adequate. I wanted so much more. I suppose a little background is in order. I am 43 years old, working in an office, I have a "boyfriend" that I see three to four times a week.

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There is a long, still silence. Finally, you exhale slowly and speak. "Yes." "Yes, what?" You hear my voice beside you. "Yes. ... I surrender... to you." You are blindfolded and tied to your own bed, secured by each ankle and wrist to the four bedposts. You are spread-eagled on your back, naked except for the exquisitely soft blanket covering you from shoulder to ankle.

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The night was your friend. It was always important to remember that. The night was your friend because in it you were dominant. In it you had the control, the power and the mastery. The night was your friend because you made it the enemy of those who deserved to be your enemy. It was a mantra that The Wight repeated to herself regularly, and not least before starting a patrol.

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As the group walked down the path in the state park, Jared pulled me aside to look at a flower. As we were bent over, he whispered to me, "I want you to find a reason to get Frenchie alone for a few minutes. When you are out of sight of everyone, I want you to offer him a blowjob, right then and there. The group is going to be stopping by the stream to look for fossils, so you'll have time to catch up. When you get back to us, squeeze my hand twice if you accomplished your mission.

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I looked down at the text and my cock began to stir... My girlfriend Michele was my first college crush. One look at her and I was a goner. She was a petite, little thing, cute as a button, with long blonde hair and small, perky breasts with nipples that stood up firm to the touch. Her penetrating brown eyes looked right into your soul.

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Carolyn couldn't sleep. Restless in her queen-sized bed, she glanced at the digital alarm clock. The numbers cast a faint green illumination in the still blackness. 2:37 a.m. Damn. She needed her sleep -- and her energy. But it was proving difficult. Tomorrow was the day. Now only hours away. The exhilaration coursed through her body again and her nipples began to harden.

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I look at the dashboard clock as I pull up the driveway. It reads half past eight. She must be nervous as hell, at this point. I'm never late. It was the unexpectedly dense traffic that caused me to arrive half an hour after the appointed time but as I consider it, it's not so bad to keep her waiting in anticipation, once in a while. She's used to me being punctual and this must really freak her out.

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Santa must love me because I've never had such a young, nubile present in all my life. It was the day before Christmas and the sky hung over my house as black as cast iron. A bitter mix of snow and sleet hissed through the leafless trees in my front yard. A foot and a half of snow covered the ground; not much for some parts of the country but here in Olympia, Washington it was quite a shock. Power was out in parts of town, though not at my house, and the schools and many businesses had been closed for several days.

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It had been a long night out with the girls and most of us were sober enough to call a cab and then Betsy starts talking about fantasies. "Men always have some fantasy they insist we try, am I right?" I nodded, as did Samantha, Alana and Jenna as Betsy continued to regale us with her latest pontification.

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