Your erotic stories

Rachel bit her lower lip and whimpered meekly as she neared a frantic orgasm; her nimble fingers nothing but a blur as they deftly manipulated her burning clit. The beautiful blonde then moaned out and grabbed her sheets with her free hand as her hips began to thrash. Her whole body shook violently as a flood of sensation flashed through every part of her being, before slowly retreating to its epicenter between her trembling legs.

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"You know what we are?" asked Alexis, taking a drag on her cigarette and leaving red lipstick on the filter. "We're high class whores. That's all we are." "I don't think so," remarked Michelle. She hated these little meetings with the chairman's wife. Hated this conversation. She wanted to disagree, yet she didn't very well want to say anything that would offend Alexis.

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Sharon stood in front of her closet, sliding hangers one way, then the other. She really had no desire to go out tonight, but Jeff had made it very clear, this evening was important. If he was ever going to make the right connections in the company or have any chance of moving up the Corporate Ladder, this was the going to be the first rung.

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This Ella's story. She is real, as are Dani and Gabrielle. Part of the story is true... the rest is Ella's fantasy. I've reflected exactly what she told me. For those who don't enjoy stories with interracial lesbian domination or reluctance and coercion as their themes, thank you for stopping by but please pass on.

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When I'm evaluating a sub, I always look at the eyes first. The eyes tell whole stories about their owner. You can practically touch the anticipation and apprehension flooding out of a first-time sub's gaze. The more experienced ones tend to glance around eagerly, with only a little bit of anxiety or an obviously fake fearfulness. Kaitlin's big, brown eyes instantly drew me with their poise and eagerness, promising an intense experience. She met and exceeded that expectation.

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This story was written a bit differently. I wanted to tell the story from all three perspectives, and do it in a unique way. Each break represents a change in perspective from one character to another, which will last through all but the last section of the story. This may seem weird at first, but read and you might begin to notice why I did it.

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To call the private studio of the Dominatrix a dungeon would, for the fortunate, earn only her contempt. Eschewing the contrivances of male sadomasochistic fantasies, the walls were painted a passionless shade of gray-green, the oak floor polished to the luster of ancient gold, and the sole window decorated with an embroidered ivory curtain, now closed.

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The place is not what I expected. The atmosphere is bright, glitzy, with an overall techno feel that seems almost cold. I had expected something warmer, more ... nurturing, feminine, I guess, from a place that caters exclusively to women. I wonder if this appeals to the butch types, and then laugh at myself for indulging in stereotypes. What do I know, anyway - it's my first time in a "girl bar".

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Sandra sat at her desk and read the email over again. "My dear Sandra, I had such a good time with you last night that I wanted to send you a little thank you note. Your company was wonderful, and well, after, well, I have to say that I have never been with such a kinky, and generous woman before. You are truly amazing....... Leanne."

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