Your erotic stories

I don't know why I married a panty slave. It's not like I didn't know about James' fetish before I said yes to his marriage proposal. He had been quite up front when we were dating about his desire to be controlled by a strong woman, and the instrument of her control was to be her underwear. He isn't into bondage or spanking or any of the more traditional bdsm fare, although I sometimes incorporate these things into our kinky love making.

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Mastrom's was Blythe's favorite department store. Catering to an upscale clientele, they carried the latest in high quality fashion in a wide variety of styles. They took pride in their hands-on and solicitous customer service. After a shopping excursion, Blythe often left the store fully satisfied and upbeat.

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I want to tell you my story about something wonderful that once happened to me before I came to live in this place; call it what it is, an old folks home. I will do my best to stay on course but if I skip around some just be patient with me. After the phone call I had to sit down. My legs trembled. I felt perspiration on my upper lip. My armpits became wet and I felt a drop slip down my side. Oh my, I thought, Kenneth, after all these years that I should react as I did. I felt myself flush as memories returned.

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Wear trousers, get fucked. A simple equation, but it worked for Emily. Jeans were a possible, as long as they were tight-fitting. Her baggy cords were a probably not, unless he hadn't seen her for a while. But the black trousers were a near-certainty. There was nothing amazingly 'fuck me' about them, they were just plain black, close-fitting polyester trousers, but Emily knew how much they turned Jamie on. If she wore them, and he saw her wearing them, he simply couldn't keep his hands off her.

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18 year old Lance Henry stood in the laundry room of his girlfriend Callie's house. She had to run out to pick up her brother from a basketball game and had left him to wait for her. She was going to be gone for about an hour and her mother Evelyn wouldn't be home from work for at least that long.

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Austin was generally pretty patient person, but his ability to tolerate and wait was getting pretty thin after waiting in line for 8 minutes to check out at Target. Now, to top it all off, the girl in front of him was getting her credit card denied and was calling someone to straighten it out. The only thing that prevented him from losing his mind was the incredible sight that the girl provided.

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Just a few weeks ago, my next door neighbor held a party to celebrate the college graduation of their son, Alex. Alex and his family had been my neighbor for many years and so my wife and I were invited. The party began at 7pm and my wife and I walked over around 8pm. The hosts had a bar set up on their back patio and a professional bartender was mixing and serving guest.

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For years I had kept a very private secret. I had run the gauntlet emotionally because of it too. Sometimes forcing myself to abstain, thinking it wrong, bizarre, even disgusting as many would see it. But eventually, I'd give in to the urge, usually resulting in a frenzy of activity in order to satisfy what I believed then to be an absurd form of sexual pleasure and gratification.

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My lover has an Afrikaans accent. His breath whispers against my neck as he speaks gruffly in my ear, pinning me to the living room wall. I push my behind into his groin as he cups my tits, groaning he is "so glad he met me." It's a rainy summer's night, all sticky and we're slick with sweat. We're both in singlets, he's in jeans and I can feel his thick length as he nestles it between my shorts clad cheeks.

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My roommate, Rob, was out of town that weekend, but that didn't stop me from hanging out with Rob. There was another Rob that we hung out with pretty frequently and I ended up going out with him and Hugh that Saturday night. After a few hours at the bars, drinking a number of beers but failing miserably with the women, Hugh headed home and Rob and I headed to his house to crash.

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