Your erotic stories

Shari awakened later with a feeling of laziness. There she was on a boat with Tony and Mychelle still naked from the thrashing she took earlier. As she started to head towards the rear of the boat, she saw Mychelle on her knees before her. Shari saw her wrists bound in thick leather cuffs that were attached together by clips.

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Author's note: To Kait, whose kindness, friendship and intelligence proved inspirational. Part I. New York No, I had never actively sought a call girl before and it wasn't helping that she had to have rather special qualities. She had to be young, experienced, smart, and bisexual; a combination of features which excluded everyone I had stumbled across so far.

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I was sitting at my desk when I heard the familiar tap tap on my cubical wall. Not having a door means you make do with whatever approximation you can. "Mark, I need you to go to Japan for me," my manager said. I looked up from my monitor. I had been engrossed in a riveting and fascinating technology brief (not!), and welcomed the interruption. Even so, though, it took me a second to register what he said.

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"Do you want to stop at Subway for lunch?" "Yeah, I'm really hungry." Stacy and I were driving back toward the office after a meeting on the other side of town. We were in different divisions but had worked together on a few projects. Stacy was a 24-year-old strawberry blond who had a cute face behind her somewhat nerdy glasses. She usually wore conservative business attire that made it hard to tell much about her figure;

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Henri smiled. Susan liked the cheerful, guileless concierge-come-garçon de café that was as much a part of the pavillon as the faded, not-quite-peeling paint, the louvered shutters and the balmy salt breeze. She'd come to treasure this quiet little place on the Côte d'Ivoire. Henri's warm grin and genuine welcome greeted her every time.

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Kelly Wurtz had always gotten her share of attention from men. Her body was a most exquisite collection of curves, from her perfect 36C's to her extraordinarily lush backside, she was the subject of stares wherever she went and enjoyed her choice of lovers while avoiding long-term relationships and the dreaded 'M-word'. She loved the excitement of motorcycles and the company of the men who shared that passion, although seldom did she engage in intimacy with those men.

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About two years ago, while working for the space agency, I was sent to a one week training/workshop in Huntsville, Alabama. I stayed at a hotel within walking distance of the Marshall Space Flight Center, where the workshop was to be held. There were about 75 people there, composed primarily of engineers, technicians, research scientists, a few administrators, and some military personnel.

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Most weekends I go down to Hong Kong – I've got a "Fuck Buddy" there who's also into piss play. He's a very hot flight attendant and Asian like me. We're not exclusive – both of us play with others and I'm also in a long term relationship back home (Australia).

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My name is Emma. I was born and grew up just outside of Buffalo New York. My father worked very hard in a plant thirteen hours a day that smelted iron ore that was brought in off of the great lakes. My mother had her hands full with my seven siblings and me. I was the eldest and had just turned eighteen in 1877 when the widowed butcher of our town that was in his late thirties asked for my hand in marriage.

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It was Saturday night and Mike was home alone. He didn't mind because there were absolutely no interruptions as he watched hockey. It was the playoffs and the second game of the night was just coming to an end. He went to the kitchen to get a drink and paused to take a long look at the freezer.

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