Your erotic stories

I'd always known I might be arrested some day, so it wasn't entirely unexpected. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a criminal. I was doing something patriotic. But the people in charge of things disagreed. That can be a problem. In those days I was running the newspaper from a little dressmaking shop in Tull.

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Denise liked Mindy a lot. She had been attracted to the short-haired, vaguely butch girl ever since they met at a party held by a mutual acquaintance, but at this point it was beyond physical lust. There was something about the girl's personality, the quiet energy she radiated, that Denise found herself addicted to. She couldn't put her finger on it, but after Mindy left she always found herself desperately wanting more.

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If you asked our friends and neighbors, "Hey, what kind of couple are Ingrid and Ben?", I'm sure they'd all say, "Oh, they're very nice, very quiet." Just another dull suburbanite couple, laid-back and conservative. Appearances, as they say, can be deceiving. Maybe my friends would mention the fact that I'm a very attractive woman, the archetypical Scandinavian beauty, with pale, ice-blonde hair, china blue eyes, and flawless alabaster skin.

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Viv and Harv Robinson's anniversary fell on a Sunday. To celebrate the quarter-century of their legally coupling in the eyes of the state and God, Viv had the bright idea of spicing up their perfunctory conjugal interlude that she knew Harv would engage in only as a token courtesy to her (or else face the silent deep freeze for the next six months).

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I enter the bedroom and you are exactly as I requested. This is good as I am extremely horny and would prefer to get straight to fucking you rather than taking the time to punish you before we get started. Your pleated black skirt is wonderfully short and your ass is cocked up into the air as I demand when I enter. I can even see the slight flash of white between your legs where the thong I requested is barely covering your lips.

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It was a hot night in Rochester but I shivered all the same. There were no cars in the driveway on a sprawling cream colored new-money manse the bordered the Clearey Woods, so I pulled up the parking brake and on battered gray Camry. The thick pine and birch that skirted the side and back of the property kept drawing my eye. If I wasn't very careful, I could die tonight. But if I'd refused, I'd be dead for certain.

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He obeyed so well. It was one of her favorite things about him. Her other favorite thing about him? The way he disobeyed. Tonight she'd push him to his limits and test his devotion. She had to. If he succeeded, she would collar him. She'd searched for weeks for his collar, the one that would fit him perfectly. One that fit them perfectly. It was black leather, dark, soft and supple.

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Carly hit the "info" button on her remote, to scan the Friday night cable schedule. Her boyfriend was working tonight, and wouldn't be home until at least 3:00am. She had the whole night to herself, and she was going to make the most of it. On the kitchen counter, she had a bottle of tequila, just begging to be opened. She poured a double shot into a short glass, took a sip, and closed her eyes as the warm liquid slipped over her tongue and down her throat.

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One must love road trips. I know I do. Fate also has the most amazing way of showing you that even though you have it all figured out, there are certain things which can occur that are beyond even your wildest fantasy. I was driving down the road, coming home from a particularly horrible day at work. In the hazy mist of a cruel evening, something jumped in front of my Accord. I swerved to avoid it, which luckily I did, but managed to hit something else that was in the road.

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The day had been pretty boring at college. I couldn't wait till I got home. I knew today would be the day. Both parents would be gone, and I just received my package in the mail. As if it weren't great enough, tonight was the first night of spring break. My parents wouldn't be gone for only one night, but they were taking a vacation and leaving me home alone to house sit. Being the mature twenty-one year old I am, they trusted me.

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