Your erotic stories

I'm so done with this school, with these ridiculous uniforms and my jackass classmates trying to look up my skirt and down my shirt. (Who picked these clothes? I mean the skirt is halfway up the thighs for god's sake. And these shirts must have been designed for girls who, well, didn't develop as early and as, uh, fully as me - which, trust me, is not all it's cracked up to be, big tits are huge pain even in clothes that weren't poorly designed for someone a lot _smaller_.

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While in college, as well as now, I was not "open" about being bisexual. I went to school for, and now work in law enforcement…not exactly an open minded group of people. That being said, I've got to admit, still love a big hard cock just as much as, and maybe a bit more than, a nice juicy pussy.

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My boss, Mr. Adams, calls me a nanny. He's pretty old school about things so I just let it go. I prefer the term, au pair, because it sounds so much more exotic and important. Mrs. Adams is probably the one who has the best grip on reality. She just calls me her "help." I started working for the Adams' to help pay my way through business college. Then about three months into a graphics designer degree, I decided, "Fuck it."

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I am trembling, my legs shaking from the force of the desire i have for You, Master, and i stand in front of You, sliding into Your arms, wrapping one arm around Your neck, my fingers stroking the hair at the back of Your head and my other hand tracing across Your cheekbones and i kiss Your chin, around Your mouth and finally Your soft lips.

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I was always amazed at how someone from my past unfailingly seemed to turn up on opening nights of exhibitions. It didn't seem to matter which city I was in, some old school friend, long lost family member or an acquaintance from the photography fraternity seemed to find the ads for my openings in the small print and turn up to say hi.

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She stands in front of the apartment. Naked thighs cold from the wind swirling around the edges of the long coat she wears. She pulls the coat closer around her and shudders. He heart is racing as she raises her hand to knock on the door. Her nipples harden immediately. She knocks, once, then twice before she takes a small step back.

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December 3, 1997 He stood just shy of six foot, medium build, brown hair and brown eyes. His clothes were similarly, well, average. But the way he moved wasn't. It was feral, stealthy.....like a beast on the prowl for food....or a man on the scent of a woman. Taking a second, more thorough look, Savannah observed how his jeans fitted him snugly, drawing attention to well toned thigh and calf muscles, and a tight ass. His loose button-up shirt hinted at a smooth, sculpted chest.

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I didn't think that I quite understood what I had just heard. My face must have been quite red and Brittany admittedly blushed as well, realizing that she had just said. My lovely, nerdy young tenant and neighbor (her husband and she leased a home from me) had just propositioned me in a way I couldn't quite forget.

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I got home late one night from my usual cardio session at the gym. Working out had got me sweaty and horny, so I raced home, glancing to be sure the DVD was still on the passenger seat, something I had grabbed from the gay section at the porn shop I worked at, before leaving for the day.

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"You are joking. Please tell me you're joking?" I doubted my mother understood the desperation in my voice, but I was disgusted and disappointed. How could she do this? "I'm not joking Chris." My Mom was still calm, oblivious to reality as usual. "I told Megan to call you. She'll be in town next week and I thought it would be wonderful if you could take her to dinner. It's not like you have this busy social life and you can't fit her in. You're always telling me that you don't get out enough."

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