Your erotic stories

"I knew you were unique as soon as I saw you in the club." She clutched his arm firmly, her head resting against his shoulder. The fact that she held his arm against her left breast was a nice bonus to the close physical contact. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Do I have a dark aura or something?" She looked up at him, smiling sweetly, her red-painted lips making that small facial gesture all the more prominent underneath the street lamp. "If you do, then I can't see it. But the moment I first saw you, I just 'sensed' something unique about you, only I just can't put my finger on it."

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Mark's the sort of man you can't help but want to tie down and gag. He's clean shaven, nicely dressed and well mannered with slight build and quick eyes—ah, but that Mr. Brady routine is just a front. The man is actually a tightly wound ball of futile energy and repressed urges. I think he only shaves his head to keep from tearing his hair out in frustration. After a while, his manic approach to life in general makes you want to push him down, sit on his legs and scream, "BE STILL!"

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