Your erotic stories

I really felt ashamed of myself. I knew I was slipping back into my old fantasy habits. A supposedly respectable married woman 39 years of age with this ridiculous fetish for dressing up in school uniform. It had been more than a fantasy during my early thirties with the two old priests and Sister Mary. I think my fantasy thoughts started in my mid twenties after I had married Derek.

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Meg's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled into a parking space in front of the condominium. She was having difficulty believing that she had agreed to this. What in the name of God had her hormones gotten her into this time? Where was her mind when she visited that Internet chat room? It had been hard enough to admit that old desires had begun to surface again but to actively go out and seek someone who could help her fulfill them was madness.

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Don't get me wrong. I love a good sexy scenario as much as the next horny young woman. But even I knew this was completely unacceptable. I was your typical rebellious girl. My parents had divorced when I was little, and I refused to bother with anyone of their partners. I didn't see the point in pretending to like people I had nothing in common with and who, as far as I knew, were only bothering with me to please my parents.

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It had been a long week. I had started work on Monday having to deal with crises that had started as soon as I left on Friday, and the fires had just gotten bigger as the week went on. I was really looking forward to getting home, having a few drinks, and just relaxing. All I needed to do first was stop and pick up some food from the grocery store.

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It all started with a simple statement. A promise perhaps. They were laying in bed one night during the week after she had just come off of his lap from one of her good girl spankings and rewards she always craved. She looked up at him, a smile across her face and at that moment, he told her that he had something special planned for them this weekend.

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Kurt was nervous. She was meant to be there in fifteen minutes, it was quarter to six now and the movie started at six-thirty. She had told him she would be round to pick him up, it would just be easier that way. He had put on his favourite shirt; Navy blue and plain, he wore it everywhere he went and didn't feel the need to dress up tonight. He was also wearing his oldest pair of jeans, held up by a belt he had just gotten the week before, Kurt despised shopping and even more so when it was for pants.

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Sometimes, I think he really, truly does understand how to handle me- how to keep our relationship in line the best he can. I've tried to explain the overwhelming need to submit, to be controlled, to be HIS- and he tells me he knows, has always known, what makes me tick. This makes me question why he doesn't employ it more often, take the authority that I am happy to hand him, but too often, we are at odds instead. Nearly every time I have finally given up on his dominant side, he turns around and shocks hell out of me again...

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I have been home from work barely five minutes when there's a knock at my door. I open it and smile at the tall, skinny man standing outside my door. "Natalie." He leans forward and kisses both of my cheeks, his hand caressing the back of my neck. "Come in," I step back and give him room. "Where are we heading tonight Sammy?" I ask, returning his kisses.

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Another story came to me folks, Josie and Tanner has bogged down a little, the third installment is a little talky-talky-wordy-talky in the middle, then you try to weave an entertaining narrative with it, and connect all the dots. That's my problem, I think of all the dots first and then have to figure out how to connect them! In the meantime, here's another one-off story that if I get enough positive feedback on it I may consider extending into another series. Very heavy Daddy/Daughter play here. Easily my new favorite kink. I hope my Babygirl loves it as well. So please meet "Puddin'", and her very loving "Daddy" in......

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By the time the clock struck midnight, most of the 'casual' guests were long gone, having delivered their housewarming gifts, had a few snacks and drinks, and were probably already in bed. Not everybody had left though. I adjusted my shirt and gazed around the living room. Nick was sprawled on the couch, a gin and tonic in his hand, watching the TV. Geri and Peter were sitting in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka, while my wife Samantha was discussing something with Connor and Caitlin. Anna was in the bathroom and Phillip was out back smoking a cigarette.

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