Your erotic stories

"Don't worry, honey," Corliss said as she got into her short dress, "In another week you'll know what it feels like to NEED to cum. Maybe then you'll commit to eating my pussy when it has sperm in it." Matt knew that begging his sexy, dominant wife to remove the cock cage would not accomplish anything but leave him more humiliated. He looked longingly at her bare legs and short dress, and wondered why she was dressing so sexy for work.

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Resisting one sexy barely-legal teenage school girl might have been possible. But resisting two? They came back to the room, which also served as my office, after class, at 4:00pm. I'd written them up for using their telephones in class, and told them they'd get detention for it. Valeria was Russian; her family had come to America five years ago. She was tall and slim, with long blond hair, big green eyes, and smooth white skin.

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Amy wasn't exactly the dominatrix type, in fact she was a very shy 'girl next door'. She loved sex, but never initiated it, nor did she ever express any fantasies. Even if she wanted something in particular (sexually-speaking), she would never say it, instead she'd wait for me to figure it out and offer. Even oral sex -- which she absolutely loved -- she could not bear to ask for.

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It was May in California; a nice, sunny, warm day, and it was time for spring cleanup. My wife took her parents out of town for the weekend to visit relatives, so I took advantage of the time and decided I would trim the neighbor's overgrown trees hanging over our backyard fence. I am a 49 year old, 5' 6", 160 pound hairy Italian guy, with salt and pepper hair. I'm in decent shape and like to keep my balls and ass shaved and my bush trimmed short; just the way my wife likes.

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I was about to leave work Thursday last week when Jessica, one of my colleagues stopped me. "Would your guest cabin be available next weekend?" She asked. Checking the calendar on my Blackberry it was. "It's available. Hot Weekend?" I quizzed. "Just for me. Mom said she'd take the two brats for the weekend, I just need some personal time and don't want to stay at my apartment."

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Katie turned twenty one right before Spring Break of this past year, and I was sure she was going to go to Fort Lauderdale or some equally alcohol drenched beach resort with her friends, after all, that's what I did when I was 21 and in college. But instead, my little girl called me up a few weeks before and said she was coming home to see me and she was bringing her girlfriend.

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I left you a note posted at the door stating: "Strip down naked and meet me in our back room." From the back room, I could hear you laugh as you read it, but I smiled and hoped you would comply. I heard you, first removing your shoes and letting them drop loudly on the floor. The ensuing silence made me think that you might be taunting me, but I let out a sigh as I heard you mumble something about your pants.

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Amanda had gotten all dressed up for nothing. The blind date she had been going to meet was a no show. Dating sucked! The high heels were killing her, she had forgotten to eat lunch, and it looked like dinner was going to be McDonalds on the way home because she sure the hell did not feel like cooking now. She drove toward her apartment.

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Prologue The Right Hon Mrs Grace de Vere Cobblehaugh sighed deeply. Mrs Cobblehaugh (pronounced "cobbler") was not happy. Yet why should this be? The heiress to the vast de Vere estate had every right to be content with her lot. After all, she was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a handsome, dashing husband. It was a glorious summer day in 1895, and the lawn outside her holiday cottage stretched down to a pretty little river.

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