Your erotic stories

She was just kneeling on the bed, her eyes obscured by the cloth I'd tied there. I could tell she was nervous, she said she wanted to try something different and kinky; something more exciting. In recent months our love-making had become a little monotonous, we both thought it but she was the first to say it.

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I cannot ignore your texts or help being provocative, everything you mention to do with sex hits the spot and you are a master of seduction, making me ache inside. You know that I can never consent to what you want, I would never cheat on my husband, but you know how much I want you... We agree that one day it will happen, but the time's not right, but you are willing to wait for as long as it takes, and you promise me one day I will be yours.

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Wells Estate / New York / 6:37 p.m. / August 12, 2033 The crunching of the gravel stopped abruptly. Kate pulled the handbrake on her Camaro SS and gawked out the open window. Just twenty minutes (or fifteen if you could drive fast enough) outside the city, Wells Estate stood proudly. Three stories tall, the dark stone and pillars gave it a slight gothic atmosphere. It was relatively new, built in 2028, but the owner had given it an older look. Maybe 1800's, she guessed.

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When a couple of mates found out that I was taking Sally out I was rather startled at their reactions. There was some sniggering and when I asked what the problem was they just laughed and said I'd find out. I pressed a couple of my closer friends for more details regarding Sally, because I knew a couple of them had dated her. I mean, as far as I could tell she was a nice normal girl. Where was the catch?

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It was my dislike of hotels that was the problem. I was in the process of changing residences. I'd sold my current house, but the sale went through a lot faster than I'd expected. I'd assumed that it would take a while for my old place to sell and I expected to have actually moved into my new house before the sale was finalised.

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Every time the door opened, I sat straight up and looked in anticipation of you. Finally just before closing time, you came in. You look at me expressionlessly and push the lock on the door closed before making your way to me. I fumble on my desk for the book I was so anxious to show you. I stand up as you get closer and start to remove my glasses. "Leave them on!" you bark out as you grab my arm tightly.

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I live in a group of units. Most of them are owned by the people living in them but a couple of them are rentals. We're like a small village, with all of us knowing each other. The unit next to mine has been a long term rental, but the guy renting it had finally scraped up a deposit and moved into a house of his own a few weeks back.

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Working in construction for so long I've been able to work my way up to foreman; which in my case, basically means that I point out what others are to do and I don't do much physical labor anymore. I've been doing this, with the same company, for almost twenty years now, starting when I was just seventeen. I've been able to keep myself in great shape, physically and sexually. It's no secret that there's a special category for construction workers in a lot of women's, and men's, fantasy worlds. I've been able to take advantage of a lot of a lot of those feelings over my career and I hoped to keep it up as long as I could. After all, I'm only thirty-six years old; I expect to be able to fuck like a madman for another few decades.

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Marie, young and single. Vivacious and pretty. Reasonably intelligent and now, thanks to an unexpected inheritance, finally striking out to live on her own. With the help of her inheritance, Marie had purchased a small house in the suburbs, close enough to public transport to allow an easy commute to work and also in fairly close proximity to quite a nice beach.

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I suppose you could say it was my own fault. I was on holiday and I suppose I let my hair down a bit. You know how it is. School's over for the year. You're eighteen and away from home. Nothing to do but have a good time. And that's what I was doing. That's all. I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not really. On this particular day I'd hired a moped and gone for a drive. I was just another teenager buzzing around on this little bike. It was fun.

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