Your erotic stories

Franklin sighed heavily as the phone on his desk rang loudly. He had just been promoted to a management position in the sales firm he worked at, and after a long day of wrangling unwilling underlings, the last thing he wanted to do was take another phone call. But duty was duty, so he picked it up.

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I've been married to my current husband, Anthony, for just over five years. In a former life I had a boring if not unpleasant sex life; little or no foreplay, no concern for my needs or desires. My former husband pretty much named the time, place and manner and I was expected to give him what he wanted.

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About six years ago I was in university and living on campus during the summer along with a few other guys, including a guy I roomed with off campus during the school year. Jeff and I were in the same program and we were taking summer classes while working for our department. He and I were fairly big geeks and only occasionally would we do social things like going to the bars to drink and socialize with friends.

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Dear Debbie: What is your opinion on your submissive's RIGHT to occasionally kiss your boobs? My husband is totally hot for my full, pink 36D melons, but since he became my slave,I gradually weaned him off of them. Part of the problem is, I'm not as attracted to Joel as I used to be, he's kind of chubby now, and having his hands groping me when he brushes by in the kitchen is not that pleasant. I don't mind him going down on me, but I've outlawed intercourse, especially since meeting my young lover, Emilio.

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'Hey Rob, I want to have a chat with you in private. Meet me at the pub tonight, 5:45? See you there I hope! L' Rob read the email again, looking for clues, but there was nothing. 'L' was Leanne -- the cute-looking girl that had recently started working in the office, just a couple of desks down from him. She was easily the sexiest girl in the company, and possibly the sexiest he'd ever personally met.

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We'd spoken for so long without meeting that it was incredibly odd to have such specific and naughty images of a relative stranger. It threw common etiquette out the window. In meeting Heather, the point that worried me the most was the manners. How intimate is appropriate? A folder of her in every imaginable pose and posture—full tits, luscious ass, dripping pussy, strong legs—rested on my hard drive.

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I woke up to her scratching my back softly. I loved that feeling. "Are you awake?" she asked me. "No," I moaned. My head was killing me. We'd been out late the night before. Several glasses of wine with dinner and then a few more drinks with friends. My head was aching and I was tired but I could feel my spirit rising as she traced her nails across my back.

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It was with some frequency that James Hartman returned to his old stomping grounds in the ATL for job related responsibilities. Atlanta held many memories for James, good times, pleasant reflections and melancholy longings. It was a trip he always took with much anticipation because it presented itself with the hope of exploring his deepest, darkest, most perverted desires. James had a dark side that hadn't had an outlet for quite some time.

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I watched her walk naked into the room, my eyes devouring every nuance and curve as my heart raced and my flaccid cock began to stir. Her bright green eyes sparkled knowingly and a mischievous grin danced on her full lips. She was beautiful, sexy, intelligent and giving and I loved all of those things about her and more.

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Week 1: They tell you to be careful in what you wish for. As usual, I awoke with an erection. Or, more correctly, my attempt at an erection woke me; the feeling of my cock trying to grow, to stretch and swell was hampered by its confinement in a steel cage which was firmly anchored to my swollen balls by a hinged stainless steel clamp ring, and secured with a small brass padlock, which was, of course, securely locked.

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