Your erotic stories

First kiss, first fuck, first this, first that. They say you never forget your first time. Firsts create memorable imprints that often remain with us forever. Whether you lull in the warm glow of your embellished memory of that first time, like I'm doing here, or cringe in embarrassment at the fiasco is not the point.

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Rita is a high powered executive with a large company. Through her work she has great responsibility. Recently she realised how stimulating and relaxing it could be if she was controlled. If she was made to do things, she no longer had the burden of responsibility. However giving up control could make her vulnerable. She may have to do things she didn't want to. That, though, was strangely exciting. The first experience for this 45 year old woman, of the thrilling excitement of handing over control had been at a family dinner party.

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"Kathy? Short for Kathleen? Katherine?" Thomas asked lightly as he poured them both a drink. A strong one for the pale redhead sitting in his easy chair nervously fidgeting. "What? Oh, I'm sorry. I guess...I guess just actually being here...well, I'm very...this just isn't me, something I would normally do," she replied with a drop of her head.

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At some point I would ask Nicole how she found out about my fetish for women's panties. At the moment, I couldn't ask her anything, a pink pair of her sodden satin underwear was stuffed in my mouth and serving quite ably as a gag. My wrists were bound to the bedposts with silk scarves, my ankles pulled back toward my head and also tied to the bedposts.

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The 14th Anniversary A Valentine's Day Story She was kneeling on the hard surface of their sturdy couch table. It had been repositioned to face the entrance of their apartment; so she would be the first thing her Mistress would see when she came home from work. By then, she knew her knees and shins would be hurting, her breasts would be throbbing with every heartbeat, her nipples would have gone numb and her lips dry -- and there was nothing she could do about it.

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Joe had been looking forward to a quiet weekend. The high-end renovation he had been hired to complete had a deadline and he had to bust his ass all week to get it completed on time. Now, with the deadline met and the check in hand, he was planning on watching baseball and drinking beer all weekend. He got up early to go for a run. He figured a good run would cancel out some of the beer.

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Abbey was on her way to the job of her dreams. Growing up, she had always wanted to work at an investment firm like her father, who was very successful at what he did. She worked hard all of her life, determined to make it on her own. She went to the best schools and did all the right things. After a few notable internships, she was finally able to land an entry level position at a major investment firm in the big city.

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Music pounding through the cavernous room. Bright lights on the cat walk, as the men dance down around the pole. Rhythmic gyrations and choreographed steps, as they strip off their clothes... bit by bit. It is better than the movie... No drama and far more action. On platforms against the wall more men sway to the beat. They are dressed in the briefest of spangled underwear, or leather g-strings.

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Becky bends over, leans into Paul's ear. "It's stuffy in here," she says. "Let's go for a walk." Paul looks up and watches her retreat around the coffee table. He pardons himself to his two bookend sofa-mates – the gregarious Auntie Lou and the diametric Grandma Claire, a stick with permanently down-turned lips and hardened scowl. Paul is relieved to escape her still life painting.

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A blindfold is snug around her head as she waits for her Dom to return. He said good things would come to her tonight and He never lies. Although it has only been minutes since He told her to kneel and wait, it feels like a century before she hears His heavy boots coming down the hall. He enters the room and firmly closes the door behind Him.

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