Your erotic stories

Guys are normally so predictable. Flirt with them, joke with them, be interested in "their" sport, and all of a sudden a girl can have them groveling at her feet. Give them a glimpse of leg and they will actually slobber. At least the majority of guys are that way. Occasionally there are the mutants. They are hooked to a specific girl and won't tell you the time of day. They might be totally devoted to work. They might like guys. Whatever.

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My life is very simple. Clients want someone dead, they pay me, I make the person dead. I would like to tell you I have a code of honor. I would like to tell you I don't kill women or children, but I am not a liar. I have killed women and would have no moral problem with killing a child. The subject has never come up.

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Annabella was just arriving back to school after her winter break. She'd been home visiting family in Arizona. She loved her family, and it had been nice seeing everyone together. Moving away for college had been a very difficult transition for her. Bella, as her friends called her, was a good girl -- honest, caring and considerate. Now that she was on her own, she found it unnerving taking control of her own life.

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She stands there completely nude, holding the wide black leather collar between her breasts. The buckle is a heavy gauge steel as is the large cold ring affixed to its front which dangles down toward her smooth shaved groin. Her eyes are closed and she can smell the leather mixed with her own scent from the last time she wore this collar several days earlier.

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Kaden walked in the door without a smile on his face. "Take that off," He ordered, pointing to my towel. I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard a knock at the door. He pulled the smaller towel from my hair and dropped it to the floor. The cool beads hit my warm back with the nearly twenty inches of thick, moist hair and rolled to my bottom.

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I've known Mary's parents for thirty years. That's a year before she was born. When she started to come on to me one night in the bar, I was startled to say the least. Startled but flattered since I'm close to twice her age. "Why don't you ever flirt with me?" Mary asked out of the blue. I thought a moment and then replied, "I've know you all of your life and I know your parents. I changed your diapers."

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My wife and I were still in love after all our 20 years of marriage but as with most couples some of the spark had slowly dropped from the relationship, especially in the sex department. Now that might not be too bad if she'd been a nympho at the start but she'd always been a lot more reserved than I was. She certainly wasn't a prude - we'd had sex in every room in the house, in the yard, on the beach, in the car and a whole bunch more places but it was always 'normal' sex.

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BEEP! The cell phone in Dave's pocket sounded, indicating an incoming message. He pulled the phone out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. The identifier on the message was his wife, Sally. It took a few seconds to load, so he knew it must be a picture message. When the picture came up on his phone, he nearly spit the mouthful of coffee across his desk in surprise.

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When I was 18 years old, in my senior year at a Catholic school for girls, my dad caught me on the street with my parochial school uniform's skirt pulled up a few extra inches so that it uncovered my legs to get the attention of boys. A lot of girls at my school did that after school. He is very strict. He is Sicilian.

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Sarah woke up to the phone ringing at 8:00am on Saturday morning. "Hello," she mumbled into the mouthpiece. "Good morning Sarah," a deep masculine voice greeted her. She immediately woke up, sitting up in bed. "Good morning Sir," she replied. She was a weekend sex slave and usually was at her Master's house by now but he had requested that she stay at home in bed until she heard from him. He had a special day planned for her and she was to await his instructions.

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