Your erotic stories

It was late summer and the beginning of mine and Christina's senior year. We had both just turned eighteen and we were eager to have fun. She was five seven, Italian, had smallish breasts with dark red nipples. With nipples that were continuously erect and an ass that was more than generous, Christina had men following her around like a bunch of hound dogs chasing a raccoon...

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Your heart is thumping, the adrenalin and anticipation beginning to be usurped by arousal. This whole scenario has an element of the surreal, and yet you stay fixed to this spot. He stirs behind you, moving close enough for his cologne to caress your senses, even if his hands are yet to.

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He had never told me his name. That realization hit me suddenly, forcefully, as I hesitated in the doorway of the large, immaculate, well-appointed suite. The very upscale hotel clearly lived up to its advertising -- which used words like "discerning tastes," "classically comfortable," and even "the ideal destination for enjoyment of discrete leisure activities."

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Do I have issues with my wife? No. Do I love my wife? Of course I do. We have been married for awhile and together way longer than that. So as always happens we had become accustomed to a certain way of living. Not that it was bad, but it was predictable. Work all week, me wanting sex during the week and the wife just too tired. Scheduled love time on the weekend.

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'Josie ... Come in, come in ... I'm so glad you could help me out like this.' Mistress Megan held open the door to her apartment, and as I walked in, I felt the normal jumble of emotions rise up and threaten to overwhelm me. I had received a text message from her at 4.30, while I was sitting rather bored in a meeting at the bank where I work. I was helping on a presentation to a group of fund managers who all thought they were rather clever and wonderful, but unfortunately, I didn't.

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Becky was sitting on the edge of the dresser with her arms folded in front and a scowl on her face. "I don't understand why you won't go. You love Buckingham's Ale House. She said in a pleading tone. "I'm just not up for it, that's all, I'm...ah, little under the weather." I said very weakly. Buckingham's represented an old way of life that no longer existed for me.

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She flipped her phone open, dialed his number, and then promptly ended the call. "Dammit! No, no, no, no, you're going to do this. You want to do this. Besides, you know him, you can trust him....just do it." Two seconds later she's dialed the number again and smacked the phone shut swiftly. The room felt as if it was going to engulf her with the magnitude of heat that flushed her cheeks.

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*This is the 5th chapter of a story I began a couple of years ago and it's been over two years since I published the last chapter. Please let me know what you think and as always comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated. Thanks and enjoy!* Chapter 5 - Taming Sara

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"Now, let me get this straight so it doesn't happen again..." I pressed the back of my hand across my roommate's forehead, frowning a little. His face, though a pale eggshell color only a few seconds ago, quickly came ablaze in a scarlet blush. "You fainted during class because you had a bad night's sleep and missed breakfast," I assessed with an incredulous grimace, "yet you still want to become a paramedic too?"

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I walked thorough the lobby of the hotel, wondering if the fact that I was a complete slut and slave to your every whim was apparent to all who saw me. Did it show through my casual clothing and downcast eyes? The concierge has sneered at me and tried to look down my blouse when I asked for the other key to your room.

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