Your erotic stories

Part 1 The metal bar banged and shook as the 45-pound plates slammed onto the floor. "AAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!" I raised my eyebrow and watched Ethan wipe the sweat from his forehead. "Damn. You ARE pissed today." He sighed, adding more metal plates to the bar without a word. "Lemme guess. Lilly?"

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It's been a few weeks since my stories were discovered by Sir on the Literotica website. As it turned out, Sir and I live in the same city, about 10 miles apart. When Sir mentioned there was an opening in his company, and it was in my field of expertise, in order to be closer to him, I jumped at the opportunity.

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Jenna drove as fast as she dared. The wreck on the bridge had caused a stand still in traffic for thirty minutes and when it had started to move it was at a snail's pace. She was fifteen minutes late. Jared would be displeased. He'd told her to be home no later than six-thirty. She left the packages in the car and went straight inside. "You are late."

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I wish I were able to do this for You today. Hopefully this will give You some relief. I recited my ritual per Your command and so enjoyed the orgasm You allowed. Thank You, Master, so very deeply. This is fairly unedited, so if something isn't communicated properly, please let me know?

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My downward spiral into a submissive bottom slut started late in life. I'm still very much in the closet and outwardly I appear as the perfect suburban husband, father, employee and neighbor. I love my wife and family but I recently found a new hobby that I crave with a passion; I can't get enough of my neighbor's big hard cock. It all started innocently enough. I'm an economics professor at UC San Diego and my office is in one of the older buildings on campus.

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She saw him sitting across the bar. He was alone, probably the only single guy in the bar, although the chances that he was actually single and not just looking for something extra-curricular seemed rather remote to her. Though not conventionally attractive, there was something about the dark eyes and the arch of his brows that attracted her attention, and would not let it go. In fact, she was so absorbed in the study of him that she was not aware her date had returned from the bathroom, or wherever he had been, until he spoke her name.

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I smiled when I saw the house. The corner streetlight reflected on the metal numbers screwed to the front door. This was the place. I slipped through the front gate and into the garden, walking quietly around the side of the house, carrying my bag. There was a back gate, locked, but reaching over I easily found the bolt and slid it open; stepping through I closed it behind me.

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