Your erotic stories

Rob entered the bar apprehensively. It was warm and lively. He had never done anything like this before. What was he thinking? He had a very strong urge to return to his room for a quiet evening of reading. But he promised and a promise is a promise. Although he could just tell ... NO! That would not be right.

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Gaven waltzed through the room secure in his roman gladiator costume. Standing at a powerfully built 6'2", he commanded the attention of every lady in the room as well as over half the men, but each time he met another Dom's gaze, he lowered his eyes as expected of a Sub.

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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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Asleep, comfortable at night, you lay snoring soundly. Your wife in deep slumber beside you, you feel something tug at your arm. A soft seductive voice calls your name. You stir gently, the voice beckoning, purring your name. You feel a hand searching under the blankets finding your leg she drags her nails up your thigh. You awaken fully to the realization that it is not your wife searching for you, but Vix. You open your eyes fully to find a dark figure kneeling beside the bed.

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"Mistress LF Slave Boy. W4M, 18-28" was the title of the Craigslist add. Trey, a 25 year old beta male, had taken to perusing various personals listings. He wasn't much of a bar kind of guy, nor did he know much about how to go out and meet women. Sifting through the postings mostly made by men Trey had managed to come across several listings by women that seemed potentially promising. Unfortunately he'd never gotten the nerve to actually try and contact one of the listing parties.

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I wanted to grab a fucking bottle of vodka and chuck it. Or throw it. Or burn it. Extraordinary stress, huh? Yeah that is what I am feeling. Damn pissed off at Daniel. We had an argument last night about where we are headed and in the midst of it, he said we should part ways for a while.

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She thought I had forgotten. It's pretty impossible; it's two weeks after mine exactly. Her temper tantrums as of lately have been cute. It'll make tonight so much more fun. I haven't said anything about her birthday and it's cute that she's stressing about it. Not to toot my own horn or anything but, I'm the best girlfriend ever.

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"I don't understand what she sees in him," said Michael, already feeling depressed at the thought of spending an evening with his arch nemesis, Nick. "I know Michael. But... she's been my best friend forever and as long as she's happy, then... what can we do?"

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I'm on my knees, staring up at a beautifully round, fleshy, tanned ass. It's spherical shape so perfect, and because the woman who belonged to it was bending slightly forward and bending at the knees as if she's about to sit down directly onto my open mouth I was infatuated and driven to fanatical heights thinking about it, looking at it, admiring it...it belongs to my mistress after all.

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Steve and I have been together a bit over six years, and we've been very happy together. We have many similar interests and sex has always been great, though not very adventurous, and at times we've had to shake ourselves out of the sameness that creeps in with most couples.

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