Your erotic stories

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 have drifted off to sleep and are having restless dreams because you are slightly obsessed with fantasies you've been sharing with someone you've never met. Somewhere in your subconscious, you hear the sound of a door opening in your apartment, but your hind brain doesn't feel threatened and you continue to doze...

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It was Sarani and me at the table, and Wygotzki and Cherkov playing cards by the door, keeping an eye on the dirt track leading up to the cabin. We were waiting for the batch to arrive, but it wouldn't be in for hours. Needless to say, we were bored. Somehow, we began talking about sex.

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Brian was sipping coffee and taking in the vista of the Long Island Sound from the oversized sun room at the rear of his mansion in Old Field. The room was what he had built the entire house around, and he had cleared out trees and brush in order to afford himself an unobstructed view of the water. There were few things in life that made him as happy as the sight of the water and the ever present smell of the salt air.

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If it hadn't been for that chair, I probably would never have dared to do what I did. It was a perfect chair. It was large and heavy. It was wide and shallow... My wife was a lawyer at a high powered law firm. She made four times my income. Some of my friends wondered how I felt about that. It was cool.

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As I get closer to the door, I can see there is a note attached to the front door. As I get close enough to read it, I see that she is awaiting my arrival. Out of politeness, I knock on the door and wait a moment. Then the door opens. It is Robert. He is partially dressed in a tuxedo and it appears he is getting ready for an evening out. I say good evening to him.

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I left you a note posted at the door stating: "Strip down naked and meet me in our back room." From the back room, I could hear you laugh as you read it, but I smiled and hoped you would comply. I heard you, first removing your shoes and letting them drop loudly on the floor. The ensuing silence made me think that you might be taunting me, but I let out a sigh as I heard you mumble something about your pants.

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Rob entered the bar apprehensively. It was warm and lively. He had never done anything like this before. What was he thinking? He had a very strong urge to return to his room for a quiet evening of reading. But he promised and a promise is a promise. Although he could just tell ... NO! That would not be right.

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Like any other good day, today started out with my wonderful Dom tying me up. Nothing puts me in a better mood than feeling the touch of rope on my skin -- the only thing that centers me more is feeling his hand in my hair as I kneel in front of him.

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Valerie Nicholls had found her motivation to work out regularly. His name was Connor, and he owned the gym that was incongruously tucked away behind an upscale European furniture store in what most people probably assumed was an area of tony shops and places where you paid four dollars for a small pastry that was wrapped up for you to take away in a small box tied with a ribbon. At forty-two, Valerie had been divorced for six years and was content enough with her situation not to settle for less than what she wanted and needed in a mate.

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