Your erotic stories

Ok I feel like I have to share this story with someone. My name is Sue, well Susan at work. I'm a senior level manager in business and used to juggling multiple projects daily. Yes it's a busy job but I enjoy it although it doesn't leave much time for a personal life. It's one of the sacrifices I had to make to get where I am.

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I have my own landscape design studio. It's quite small since I'm the only employee but the benefits can't be beat. A few years ago, I bid on a renovation design for someone I probably wouldn't have if I hadn't needed the money. Since it was during the winter, I jumped on it because it's good to line up jobs to keep you busy during the summer work months.

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It was strange how it all happened. I'm Peggy, 18 and the star of the girl's wrestling team at my high school. Obviously, I'm damned good at it, and lucky since most schools don't have that kind of thing available. Half the time, I end up wrestling against guys in my weight class, since there aren't as many girl's teams. In my weight class, not even many guys can beat me.

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The last thing I remember before going to sleep was that it was hot. The kind of scorching, dry heat that not enough water in the world can quench. I was sleeping nude to try and maintain some normal body temperature, my old fan slowly pushing hot air around the room. I thought I would never fall asleep.

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She was feeling a little nervous as she arrived. Mistress Heather, as she was known in the D/s community, was still a rather young girl of 23. She had been a practicing Domme for a little over 3 years, however most of those experiences were in the confines of a few of her college relationships. It had only been for the last 9 months that the blond haired Domme had sought more professional experiences with true sub girls.

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The motel was worse than Milene expected, definitely low-rent and in need of repair. Several disreputable-looking characters hung out in the parking lot, checking her out as she drove in. Drug dealers, Milene assumed, or maybe drug users. Or pimp types. This looked like the kind of motel that rented by the hour, as the saying goes. Then again, that's essentially what Milene was there for, so who was she to judge?

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Serana, It's time for us to part ways. Not permanently, I'd imagine, but there are some things that fated warriors are meant to do alone. I let my new friend know that I'll be back at the castle should I be needed, but I kind of doubt that I'll be needed immediately.

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2:43 AM. Still three hours before the alarm. A clap of thunder sounds and I awaken with a start. I realize that I am sweating, then I remember my unpleasant dream. Rain pelts down on the windows; the sound is hollow and grating, like the laughter of a demon. I am lost, alone with my dark thoughts. I am dying.

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Please, don't ask me to explain how it happened, I don't know myself. Perhaps it was a late-night noise which awoke me from a pleasant dream, perhaps it was merely the need to see that everything was all right, that the windows were closed and the door to our shared apartment locked, or to get a drink from the communal kitchen.

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When you start writing a fiction story, it's fun to think about where to start. But when you're writing a true story, especially one with a lot of threads runnings through it, deciding where to start is really hard. There are so many strands involved in explaining the key event, and people won't understand you if you don't describe them well. They may even judge you.

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