Your erotic stories

Halloween was fast approaching and Amy could hardly wait. She and her husband Mark were hosting this year's company Halloween party. The last few parties had been great and she knew this one would be lots of fun. She worked with a great group of people, and adding in their spouses or partners there would be 24 people attending. The party was this coming Saturday night and Amy and her husband were almost done with the preparations.

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iv. That night, after dinner, Kyle sat on his bunk, looking out onto the empty tier. In the cell next to him, he heard the breathy sound of a man either fucking or getting his cock sucked. He lay down and tried not to think about what would happen if Tyrone won the fight tonight. Kyle would belong to the man who won the duel. Tyrone's words came back to Kyle with the frightening clarity of coming doom - if you was my bitch I would of raped your virgin ass already and made you scream real loud.

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Mistress Sarah's guiding hand brought Dana through the bustling corridors of the club underground. Tonight it was seething with activity as the employees prepared for tonight's big show. Dana watched, amazed, at the energy and the dedication of Mistress Sarah's slaves and subsidiary dommes. It was like a leather and latex anthill, whose slim little queen was even now pulling her along towards the main chamber where tonight's show would be.

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A flashy sports convertible pulled into a driveway next to a much more subtle, unmarked black van. A predictably middled aged man, climbed out and waved at the occupant of the standard suburban home, who was sprawled comfortably on the steps leading up to the front porch, a beer nestled in one hand. "Scotty…" said the other man from his perch.

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She tried the dress on for the fifteenth time that month, and once again hoped that this time she'd feel different. As she stared into the full length mirror that had been moved into her room, she noticed how the whiteness of the dress seemed so much brighter against her pale skin. How her red hair and blue eyes seemed that much more pronounced by the additional paleness wrapped around her body.

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Christine Hawkins was twenty-two and a student of accounting at the local college in Crompton, Surrey, England. She was popular with the main student body there. She was active in most of the college activities and was a natural leader. She had no boyfriend. She was lesbian. She was proud of that fact and was active in gay rights. This brought her into conflict with the local vicar, Reverend Tom Greenwood, an old- fashioned cleric, who, in Christine's eyes, was anti everything Christine stood for, especially gay and lesbian rights.

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"I don't understand what she sees in him," said Michael, already feeling depressed at the thought of spending an evening with his arch nemesis, Nick. "I know Michael. But... she's been my best friend forever and as long as she's happy, then... what can we do?"

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Her heartbeat pounds out a familiar rhythm as she waits in the dark, stretched silently across the mattress like an offering, knowing he's on his way. The sensation of her pulse is primal. She's tried to fill the long desolate stretch of daylight hours, anticipation rising with the setting of the sun. A few more hours, a few more mundane tasks, a little more self control. It's a mountain she climbs daily, the precipice of which she now balances on, waiting alone in the tangle of blankets.

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Chapter 1 – Susan's typical life In a small town in a typical suburb, Susan was busily getting her family ready. She was just finishing sizzling up the bacon for the morning breakfast as her two children, Joseph and Michelle, were just sitting down for their food. Her husband, Brian, ran by her grabbed some bacon and ran out the door. "Late as usual" she thought to herself.

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My name is Dylan, and I'm a rapist...or at least I thought I was. Lying there in the dark, pretending to be asleep and listening for the tell-tale crackle of a police walkie-talkie from outside my apartment door, I wondered if Samantha was still in her bedroom. Wondered if she'd called the cops to tell them her roommate had raped her, or if she'd fled the apartment and was banging on our neighbors' doors, desperately trying to find someone who'd help her.

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