Your erotic stories

"Reception to Tom, over." The radio on his belt squawked softly, and his friend Gina's voice beckoned to him from his reverie. "This is Tom. Go ahead, Gina, over." "Tom, I have a guest request for an unusual repair, over." "What do I need to bring up, Gina? Over." "I don't really know, Tom. Can you come to the front, please? Over." That was unusual for Gina; she's a great communicator, so it must have been something "Personal" that the guest needed.

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"She didn't want to say anything, but when you fall for someone, it doesn't really take a lot of work. You don't have much choice in the matter. It sort of just hits and then you know." We've all seen commercials where there's that random thing - that once in a lifetime blink of a moment.

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I am Anna, a 24-year-old suburban librarian. I have blue eyes and one of those innocent faces, with an easy smile. My hair is long and red; I usually curl and then pile it up for a professional look at work. The rest of the time I love to feel it on my back and shoulders. I have to dress conservatively for the job, low heels naturally, with a skirt and silk blouse -- nothing too showy.

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"You're on your way home, Sir? Now?" "I am." Hal bit his bottom lip. Shoot, shoot, shoot. He hadn't planned anything for dinner. "How long until you get here?" Mac drove one-handed down their street, other hand holding his cell. "Actually, I'm about to pull in the drive."

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It had been nearly two years since I lost my wife to a drunk driver. Dating at twenty is a bitch, dating at fifty... well, let's not go there. I had a lot of friends, and that helped, but to be honest, porn and hand jobs were no replacement for the twice a week sex I was used to for the last twenty five years. As I said, dating at fifty is a bitch, there aren't too many choices in a small town, even a college town like the one where I teach.

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There is a long, still silence. Finally, you exhale slowly and speak. "Yes." "Yes, what?" You hear my voice beside you. "Yes. ... I surrender... to you." You are blindfolded and tied to your own bed, secured by each ankle and wrist to the four bedposts. You are spread-eagled on your back, naked except for the exquisitely soft blanket covering you from shoulder to ankle.

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I'd just showered and put on some make up when I got a text from you. "Just landed, at baggage claim, can I stop by for a bit?" It had been over a week since I'd seen you and I wasn't really expecting to for another day or two. You'd been stuck in California for days longer than you had expected. "Of course" I replied.

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"Hey baby?" Uh oh. I've heard that tone of voice before. Whenever you get that sort of introduction, you know that what comes after it can't be good. It usually is followed by something like, We gotta talk. "We gotta talk," she said. Damn. Here I was, relaxing. I had the game controller in my hand, the bad guys in my crosshairs.

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You had to be living under a rock this past year not to know the economy is in the pooper. But even in these economic hard times, people continue to buy houses. So it was when the old two-story cottage beside me went up for sale in the last quarter of 2007. It sat empty for nearly a year until a middle-aged woman purchased the property.

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Warning! This story includes very heavy BDSM, rough sex, anal fucking and other nasty stuff. As usual there is also a romance but it is secondary to the stroke. Another caveat: I don't write with a dictionary or a thesaurus at my side. I use words which are familiar to me---words I use in daily conversation. I am not writing stories for children. If you are the persistent anonymous poster who wishes I would use smaller words so that you can understand them, just give me a zero and move on without comment.

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