Your erotic stories

"To heel, wench." "Yes, my lord." Such small words, but they hold such power over me. I enter the room quickly, kneeling gracefully behind you, awaiting your whim. I've prepared myself as you commanded, cleansing myself thoroughly, oiling my skin and brushing my hair to a silky sheen.

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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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My first truly erotic encounter set a high standard for all that followed. I was eighteen years old, fresh-faced and pretty, if a little naive. I was ready to experience new things and break out of high school awkwardness. This was partly the reason why I quickly made my peace with having to share a bedroom with a stranger assigned by the college.

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"OK, what the hell is that?" Eileen asked laughing. "That is our Play Chair," the saleswoman said with a smile, coming up behind them. "It tends to get a reaction from everyone that comes in here." 'Here' was an upscale 'erotic boutique' in Boston. Eileen and Tom were in town for a get-away weekend and decided a visit would provide a nice bit of spice to their romantic weekend. Neither had been to the store before and didn't quite know what to expect.

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Nanci, I know I wasn't supposed to tell you this. There is this sachet I keep with me, which will be part of the day when I'll finally meet you. I saw it being used in a movie and I plan to introduce it on the first day you'll give yourself to me. I will hide it, away from you prying eyes... on that particular day, I'll make sure we have all the time in the world, the phones will be off, the hotel room door locked, with that "Do not disturb" sign by the handle... alone, just you and me.

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Authors note: All characters in this story are 18 years old or older. Enjoy! D * * * * * Michael sat chewing his straw as he wondered about the mixture of longing and disgust he felt as he watched the group of girls on the other side of the canteen. It was a bright day and the shine from their finely cared-for hair and skin gave them a cinematic glow that made them all the more captivating. His twin sister, Brittany, was with seated amongst them, seemingly just another beautiful face in the crowd of beautiful girls.

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Foreword This story takes place several weeks after Thomas and Barbara have returned from their 'bonus' vacation (as detailed in their last story). As a matter of record, I have 'trained' more than one woman in the manner described. We both had a lot of fun and a lot of exercise was also accomplished.

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Julie lay back into the car's seat, closing her eyes and relaxing into the ride home. The night out had been just what she needed after a long week; Jay had done well distracting her from thoughts of work. Their favorite restaurant had again come through with a great meal. They'd had just enough wine, lovely dessert, and stimulating conversation. But though the pleasant hours had repressed her ill mood, she now wanted a good night's sleep to escape the frustrations the work week had wrought. Climbing into bed, passing out and waking up to a lazy Saturday... That's what she needed.

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I can see her watching me. Pretending not to, casting her eyes down to the novel in front of her every time I catch her eye from across the patio of this open-air café. Well, I've been watching her, too—long enough to know that she's been "reading" the same page for the last 45 minutes.

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The pain was fighting with the pleasure; the fear with the exhilaration. The struggle for the dominant sensation was sending my adrenaline through the roof. God, I was skipping along the top of the clouds. Shit, I was skimming the searing flames of hell. Pain, pleasure. Pleasure, pain. Right there on the edge. Would he love me or kill me? Would he fulfill my desires? Or would he take me to the edge of release only to abandon me to want and frustration? Either way, this was the edge that made me feel alive. This . . . this . . . this, right here, right now.

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