Your erotic stories

As usual, I have given you very little notice before I can come over. Always a gentleman, you usher me into your house and offer me a drink. We head to the family room to chat awhile. But we both know why I'm here.

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Nanci, I know I wasn't supposed to tell you this. There is this sachet I keep with me, which will be part of the day when I'll finally meet you. I saw it being used in a movie and I plan to introduce it on the first day you'll give yourself to me. I will hide it, away from you prying eyes... on that particular day, I'll make sure we have all the time in the world, the phones will be off, the hotel room door locked, with that "Do not disturb" sign by the handle... alone, just you and me.

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After my heartbeat slowed, I could finally feel myself getting to a dryer state. I was covered in my own sweat and wetness, but now that the lovemaking was done, I was beginning to cool off. For the first time that night I could hear the ceiling fan lazily spinning overhead. I already missed seeing Logan over me and hearing his heavy breathes in my ear for what seemed like for hours. I don't know how long we had been fucking, but we did it until we exhausted ourselves. With dewy skin and a still wet pussy, I got out of bed and reached for my panties.

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I step into the room, excited, barely able to catch my breath with the anticipation. I stand for a moment in the doorway, both to give to you the chance of taking in my appearance, and so compose myself. I want to present a cool, calm, controlled front, not to betray how excited I am. I am dressed in a leather jacket with leather trousers and tight, thick leather gloves.

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You are finally coming into town. You said for business, but I don't care what the reason, I am just glad to finally see you. I race to meet you at the restaurant. There are butterflies in my stomach. We have chatted and talked on the phone for so long now. So much flirting and longing to be with you. When I arrive at the restaurant, I see your truck is already there, and I start to feel a little better. When I get inside, I scan the room for you, and see you stand up and motion me over to your table. You've been keeping an eye out for me and you smile as I get close to the table.

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Everything set up so nicely. Each person agreed upon the game and their roles in the game. Only three knew of the aspects of the plays and their roles in the game. Those there set up and prepared for what lies ahead. Now we begin. You arrive a few minutes late, a shy smile on your face as I open the door.

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I'm standing at the registration desk of the hotel we agreed upon, a small bag in my hand. I didn't pack much, as you requested. I don't think I'll need much else, this weekend, do you? The woman returns with my credit card and hands me a slip of paper. "You have a message, ma'am." I open the paper and read:

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I have watched you for hours. I have watched as you slept, watched while you bathed, watched as you raged against the hated space I keep between us. I have watched you and grinned to myself, knowing that you are completely unaware of the study I have made of you: your habits, your mood swings, your needs. You believe there is no interest there, no need, no want. Your belief is wrong. One day maybe, I will show you.

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I imagine you coming home tonight, surprised how all your snow chores are done. You walk into the house and it's warm, there's a light in the kitchen, and you enter, curious about what you'll find. As you enter I turn around and smile. I've been hard at work at the stove, cooking our diner. You can tell that a soup is bubbling away, perfect for this cold winter night.

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You are on the phone and I cannot resist. I am drawn to the sound of your voice, just like Peaches-the-cat, and just as predisposed to purr as she is. You are sitting in your chair, staring sightlessly at the computer monitor as you talk. 'Ah, good,' I think, 'its not work-related.' I long to touch you and I do so, running my fingers over your bare shoulders and down your chest.

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