Your erotic stories

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a stitch she was wearing, not even a blouse. She had made up her mind that she wanted to see the hot, sexy fat man that left all those wonderful presents under her tree every year. So she took a nice long bath and shaved her sexy body bare, paying special attention to her sweet pussy.

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Kate double-checked her hair in the glass window of Professor Foster's front door. She wasn't sure why, but the 18-year-old wanted to look her best for her teacher. Probably because it was her first day on the job as his babysitter. "Normally, I'm reluctant to do this during the semester," he'd said at the end of his last lecture, "but my wife and I are really in a bind.

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His Side She was surprised when I walked into the room; she actually jumped a few inches and turned around blushing. I had caught her standing in front of a full length mirror without any clothes. I could see the flush on her face, and the wetness on her fingers told me all that I needed to know. She'd been masturbating!

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"And then the blonde sighs, and says, 'Please, not another breathalyzer test!'" I laughed along with the other girls once Julie finished her joke. Julie was blonde and thought that all blonde jokes were hilarious. She knew them all, and with the slightest encouragement, didn't hesitate to show her prowess. She was on a roll tonight.

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A few months ago, I had my friend Alex over to help me break in a couple of slaves. He is a big, sensual Dom who, although he can be very rough, can also be very gentle. As we enjoyed our slut-girls, he made it somewhat clear that he wanted to use me as a sub sometime. I felt strangely drawn to him and couldn't stop thinking about his offer. He really turned me on and thoughts of being bound and made to service him constantly haunted my thoughts and dreams.

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I smiled when I saw the house. The corner streetlight reflected on the metal numbers screwed to the front door. This was the place. I slipped through the front gate and into the garden, walking quietly around the side of the house, carrying my bag. There was a back gate, locked, but reaching over I easily found the bolt and slid it open; stepping through I closed it behind me.

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As we pulled up to my house I enjoyed the fact that no bicycles were strewn on the driveway and no soccer goal stood on the lawn. Just my wife and I at home tonight, with no kids to interrupt and no reason to try and maintain any appearances. I had been looking forward to this for weeks. I got out of the car and turned to say goodnight to my neighbor from down the street.

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Eighteen-year-old Kristina entered the Dean's office. The busty blonde was wearing her school uniform which consisted of a white blouse, which was currently unbuttoned enough to show her ample cleavage, a short skirt and her white knee-high socks with black shoes. "Miss Mitchell, please come in and have a seat." said Dean Whitmore.

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He'd dared her, and he shouldn't have. For months they'd chatted, trading stories and making each other hot and bothered (and much more) dozens of times. Finally, one afternoon, Dee had opened her mail to find a message from Jas. Expecting an opening gambit for that night's chat session, she'd instead read:

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You're downstairs reading when I call to you from the bedroom. "Honey, could you come up here for a second? I need your help with something." You put down your book, mildly annoyed at being interrupted, and walk up the stairs. "What's up, Doll?" you ask as you come around the corner into the room and stop dead in your tracks, mouth open slack jawed at the site in front of you.

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