Your erotic stories

It had been nearly two years since I lost my wife to a drunk driver. Dating at twenty is a bitch, dating at fifty... well, let's not go there. I had a lot of friends, and that helped, but to be honest, porn and hand jobs were no replacement for the twice a week sex I was used to for the last twenty five years. As I said, dating at fifty is a bitch, there aren't too many choices in a small town, even a college town like the one where I teach.

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There is a long, still silence. Finally, you exhale slowly and speak. "Yes." "Yes, what?" You hear my voice beside you. "Yes. ... I surrender... to you." You are blindfolded and tied to your own bed, secured by each ankle and wrist to the four bedposts. You are spread-eagled on your back, naked except for the exquisitely soft blanket covering you from shoulder to ankle.

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The straps on Gary's backpack were really starting to hurt his shoulders. He'd been walking mostly since he got off the bus 2 hours ago. The dark, cool night air and the long walk were taking their toll on his resolve to find the two girls from the bar where the bus had stopped a few days ago, but he was too far into it now to stop.

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The cool air washed over my body as I stepped out of the shower When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I noticed that the cooler air had caused my nipples to harden. I ran my fingers over my nipples and felt a quick jolt of pleasure flow through my body. Was it the cool air, or the excitement I had felt all day, or for that matter all week! Tonight was to my husband Bill's and my first visit to a an off-premise swing club located in a city close to where we lived.

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I was very curious about the lifestyle of the submissive female and how it would feel to surrender complete and total control of myself to a very dominant male. After several days of chatting with various men online, I finally found the male I was after. He was very cocky and sure of himself. I was made to call him Master from the moment we met and was instructed to write to him using only the color pink in my messages.

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"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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