Your erotic stories

I wanted to grab a fucking bottle of vodka and chuck it. Or throw it. Or burn it. Extraordinary stress, huh? Yeah that is what I am feeling. Damn pissed off at Daniel. We had an argument last night about where we are headed and in the midst of it, he said we should part ways for a while.

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Frankie, the girl who waxed Mistress Vixen so beautifully had no idea of Vixen's profession. She saw a striking, powerful woman who dressed simply and elegantly and assumed that she was some sort of corporate executive. Like a number of similar, if not quite so formidable looking women, who looked after their bodies, Vixen used a lot of the spa's services. Some of them also chose to have a Brazilian wax. There was no reason to think that this quiet, relaxed client was particularly out of the ordinary.

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Graphic lesbian sex, questionable consent, and...well...blood-drinking. Also more than likely entirely derivative, albeit subconsciously. If any of that disturbs you, please skip this one. Comments welcome!

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Jim came home from work, to find the apartment totally dark. He called out for Tina, but she did not respond. Jim had moved to turn on the light, but a voice stopped him. "Don't turn that on." Tina told him from the darkness. "Damn, You scared the hell out of me. Why didn't you answer when I called?" Jim asked, while sitting his coat on the couch.

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- 1 - My husband Dan is an engineer—and, I strongly suspect, a sex addict. Until recently, these were separate parts of his life. Not that I'm complaining, too much, about Dan's strong libido. He's always been faithful. And he's also a willing student—and budding master—of my body. I may want sex less frequently than he, but I probably get more enjoyment from it than I deserve for my own efforts. Besides, Dan's curiosity and drive definitely keeps things interesting in our bedroom—and sometimes outside of it too!

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Synopsis; 'Plain Janes' are not always as they seem – some have been tutored by relatives who lurk in the background, waiting to receive those caught in a contrived web. Jane Whistler's appearance was that of a well groomed, prim and clean living girl. At 30, she appeared to have been left on the shelf. She rarely socialised, other than to indulge her workmates on rare occasions – she was rarely asked to dance by the males as she was considered to be flat, a bit fat- not like the beanpole women that the 'blokes' seemed to lust after-and very plain.

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He woke up about 7:30 a.m. and, at first, thought it was a normal morning. He felt a little chilly and reached for the blanket when he realized he wasn't covered, but didn't find it and opened his eyes to find the bed was stripped of blankets. All he could see was a sheet of paper on the edge of the bed, so he put on his glasses and picked up a note from his wife.

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N--- was a pretty young Asian woman. The first time we went out, I picked her up after she got off work at the restaurant where I had met her. We had made no particular plans, which suited her just fine. As we drove around looking for something to do, a dance song she liked came on the radio, and she closed her eyes and began dancing dreamily in the bucket seat beside me, her arms in the air above her head, her upper body swaying erotically to the beat. Her sweater-clad breasts, round and relatively large for her very petite frame, thrust outward as she moved. I began to believe this would be a very good first date.

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Jeremy Bauer had just wrung the doorbell at his next door neighbor's house. He'd been home from college for one day, and was eager to see his friend Steve. Jeremy's mother told him that Steve had been home for about a week. He and Steve had been best friends since elementary school, but hadn't seen each other since Christmas.

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It was a very pleasant date, all in all. She was lovely and funny, and the curves beneath her dress made me very aware of the hopeful bulge in my jeans. She seemed shy, though, and I did not feel quite ready for 'the talk' just yet. Still, when she insisted I come in for a while, I humored her. That was my first mistake. My second was accepting the drink.

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