Your erotic stories

I was trying my best to just flow with it, not think too much. I always think too much. Feel, just feel. Breathe, that's the key thing. Be sure to keep breathing. In and out. Nice and easy and smooth. I could get through this. And don't look! I couldn't look. I will soon, I promised myself. But not yet. Breathe.

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The new owner of the Faro Ranch was unlike anyone that Emily Wilder had ever met in her twenty-two years of life. Her world did not extend far beyond the slat fences of the Faro. Her father had managed the ranch for Mr. Donavon for twenty-six years. When the old man had died, his son had auctioned off the cattle and sold the property.

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I stepped off the bus double checking the address on the slip of paper I held in my hand. The small theatre I'd been told to arrive at appeared to be just around the corner. I was early yet, and decided to take advantage of the time walking into a nearby Starbucks ordering a coffee. While I sat sipping that, I checked myself out in a small mirror I kept in my purse.

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Even though Halloween had passed, my girl friend wanted to drag me to a party in the city, at a private lesbian club she is a member at. Now don't get me wrong, I love a party - and partying with a bunch of girls is right up my alley - but going attached to Reenie. We aren't lovers as much as we are fuck buddies.

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The idea for this story was inspired by memories of another story I read a long time ago, the title and author of which I cannot remember. But at least some credit should go to that forgotten writer, and so to him/her, thank you.

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Nothing, and I mean nothing, in sex gets me off more than the scent and taste of my woman's ass. I don't mean when it's squeaky clean and perfumed. I mean when it smells and tastes like what an ass is and what it does. Nothing beats the erotic blast of kissing her soft, satiny fanny and parting the cheeks to expose her sexy anus.

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Megs had desperately sought a woman to dominate her in special ways. She yearned to be controlled and, with that control, to be subjected not only to depraved sexual acts, but be exposed to embarrassment and humiliation. An elegant, stylishly attired businesswoman, her hair always perfectly in place, her nails immaculately done, dressed so very precisely, Megs gave off an aura of almost over concern with the crisp and clean and tidy image of herself she presented to others

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I met Jesse at a mutual friend's summer garden party. Moira was by some margin the poshest person I knew. As rich as god from family inheritances, she was married to a successful lawyer and was by some margin the social queen of the area where I lived.

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Carol could see the crotch of the girl clearly, sitting at a small table in the ice cream store where she was enjoying a butterscotch sundae. The girl was perhaps five feet away, sitting and talking with another girl. Carol knew the girl slightly because she lived in the same suburban neighbourhood, and Carol had seen her walking by her house occasionally.

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What are your fantasies? What gets you off late at night when you only have yourself and your favourite toy? For me, my fantasy life is way more adventurous than my reality. In my fantasy life, I am seduced and made a sexual pet by Mrs. Walker, the hottest teacher ever. In my fantasy life, I am just getting out of my cheerleading uniform, when the whole football team walks in and has their way with me.

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