Your erotic stories

It was Berkeley California in 1969 and a bunch of hippies and dopers had taken over a parcel of university-owned land on Telegraph avenue and proclaimed it a People’s Park. The Viet Nam war was at its height, and when the police showed up to oust the squatters and put up a chain-link fence, the anger and futility of the anti-war protesters, the hippies, and all the people in between ran up against the agents of the Establishment and full-scale riots broke out in the streets, with cops and National Guard on one side and hippies and students on the other.

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LeRoy was sitting on the porch, rocking and rubbing the head of that old hound dog of his, as Dinah walked up the stone path from the mailbox at the edge of the muddy road. She had walked slow up from the bus stop in the nearest town, at the mouth of a fold back into the Blue Ridge. The suitcase she was lugging, balanced on the other side by her guitar case, was heavy, but she wasn't walking slow because of that weight. She was weighed down by something more serious than that.

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Zarah's eyelids fluttered as she moaned softly, waking up to a pounding headache... what had happened last night? She only remembered having two drinks, not nearly enough to be hung over... She stirred gently, and only then noticed that her movements were strangely restricted... Her eyelids flew open as she suddenly took in her surroundings, her eyes locking on wrists wrapped securely with rope and attached to leads bound to the bedposts of the big four-poster bed in which she lay.

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