Your erotic stories

Life in the detective bureau was anything but routine. Everyday there were new challenges. Crime never stops. My day began at 8:30 am. I usually stopped off on the way to work to pick up coffee and some form of breakfast for myself and for the rest of the detectives, as well as the Chief. One of my duties was a review of the crime reports filed by the uniform division during the previous 24 hours. Cops often were not skilled writers. It was my job to review their reports for accuracy and completeness.

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This move was a big step for me. After being married for thirty years I finally had my kids raised and was left without a life, neither; personal, professional nor sexual as we'd been living apart in the same house for two years. I finally made the decision to leave and make my own way again. Needless to say, much was my own fault as I tolerated the neglect and did so from personal fears and the loathing to be on my own with two kids, but none the less, as I approached my thirty year anniversary I kept asking myself, "Do you want another thirty years like this?" and the answer came back every time as "fuck no!".

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On the evening following my 23rd birthday I headed over to Danielle's house. I had met Danielle through my girlfriend, Janie. Actually, my ex-girlfriend. I say my ex-girlfriend because the day before, on my birthday, I drove to Janie's house for my "Happy Birthday rough and wild monkey sex" (my words, not hers). When I got to her house I knocked on the door and it swung open a bit. I poked my head in the door and called out "Hello!" and nobody answered.

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Rick knew that his boss was going to be pissed. He had promised her that the report would be on her desk the first thing in the morning, but there had been no way that he could have known that the train would break down. He was almost an hour late as he briskly made his way to her office. He didn't stop to remove his coat and leave it in his office because he didn't have the time.

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Tony was nervous as he sat at the bar of the Toledo Holiday Inn. "I'll meet you at six," she wrote in her last e-mail to him just the night before. The drink in front of him remained untouched as he waited, although his fingers played with the intricate cuts of the glass from time to time. He glanced at his watch once more and was dismayed at the slow passage of time. It was only five forty-five. "It'll be so good to see you." Tony looked around and saw that the bar and the dining area were beginning to get more crowded.

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When the SUV pulled up near the oversize garage, Shelly looked over to her manager Mark with a strained expression on her face. Without a word, her face broadcasted everything she wanted to say. "Look Shelly, we both agreed you needed to broaden your sound, this is an excellent opportunity." "Are we here because it's an excellent opportunity or because it's free?"

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On the morning of my 30th birthday, I ran through the hospital doors to the desk, found out Dad's room number, and rushed to him. He was sitting up in the bed, not looking too much the worse for wear, actually. I peppered him with worried questions, but he tut-tutted the whole thing. "Just bad stomach. Something I ate."

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I got home from playing basketball, and my mom and her friends were in the middle of ladies bridge night. Two tables with four women each all looked over at me when I came through the door, and I turned a little red. I must have been a picture of loveliness, my sweat stained t-shirt clinging to my chest and back, my damp hair hanging in my face, basketball in the crook of my arm. I waved to my mom and headed upstairs. "Charlie!" she called after me.

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This is the homework of my slave Gabi. My name is Gabi. I'm from Austria (a German-speaking country near Germany). My Mistress ordered me to write down this story. As a matter of fact this is not really a story – as it is not fictional. This is the description of my first meeting with My Mistress. Mistress Cornelia is my Mistress. I'm one of her slaves and I love to submit to her.

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This story's a sequel to Copenhagen Couple and Meetings with Mark. It's not necessary to read those stories first, but some things will make better sense if you do. * At the age of 20 and after my first experiences with male sex I acknowledged to myself that I was bisexual. But I wasn't going to be open about the fact that I liked to be with men. Sadly, bisexual men are often despised by both gay and straight guys, and even by some women.

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