Your erotic stories

You go to the fridge, dragging the door open, as the conversation continues loudly behind you. Laughter rings out over the clamor of the television and you draw four cold long-neck beers from the crisper, set them on the small silver tray you were given for your hostess duties this evening, and with a pop-pop-pop-pop the caps are all neatly removed and discarded. You brush down the leather skirt and adjust your corset before entering the living room again.

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My first wife and I stayed together for too many years. There were the signs in the first two years that we had made a mistake. We married young. I had just returned from the first of two tours in Vietnam. She was being driven batty by her mother. We were young, lonely and needed to be needed. In her case, I have always believed she would have been more self confident and self assured if she'd taken that job with the airlines rather than getting married.

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Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a stitch she was wearing, not even a blouse. She had made up her mind that she wanted to see the hot, sexy fat man that left all those wonderful presents under her tree every year. So she took a nice long bath and shaved her sexy body bare, paying special attention to her sweet pussy.

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In April 2004 my husband announced that his 25 year old secretary was 6 months pregnant and he was leaving me and our two daughters to be with her. Apparently I'd become boring and had put on weight – no longer the slim nymphomaniac that he had married 21 years previously. To say that I was devastated would be somewhat of an understatement. I thought that I'd been as good a mother and wife as I could be while also holding down a career as an accountant with a pretty large clothing company.

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His Side She was surprised when I walked into the room; she actually jumped a few inches and turned around blushing. I had caught her standing in front of a full length mirror without any clothes. I could see the flush on her face, and the wetness on her fingers told me all that I needed to know. She'd been masturbating!

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"Truth or dare?" asks Cristina. "Truth," Sammy answers. There'd be plenty of time for wild antics later. The slumber party was just getting started. "Okay..." Cristina looks around the room at her friends mischievously grinning, feigning serious consideration with a finger to her chin. She pauses extra long to build suspense and takes a swig of her wine cooler before posing her brilliant question: "Spit or swallow?"

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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 leaned against the cold brick wall, trying to defend herself from the three hoodlums. 'Leave me alone!' she yelled, covering her breasts with her left arm, while slapping away the many hands that were trying to go under her short shirt. 'All we want is some of that sexy ass, baby,' one of the punks said, trying his best to get a feel between her legs.

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As I explained in my first story (My first submissive), I'm fortunate to have a high paying job at a large well known firm. While my employer is equal opportunity and all of that, even the most open minded employer wouldn't react well if they learned they had an amateur dominatrix on their senior staff.

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The morning mist covered the grass and flowers; it was a beautiful May morning in Georgia. Birds were chirping and a slight breeze rustled the leaves in the trees that lined the long driveway that led to a spacious mansion. It was difficult for Nora to believe that she was only sixty miles out side of Atlanta;

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