Your erotic stories

"Oh for Christ sake Ollie, will you put your face straight, what's the matter with you?" "Nothing Dad, I'm fine," she replied, looking glumly out of the window as the car took the turning for Plumford. "It's only for a couple of days, it wouldn't hurt you to have a little more consideration for others, your Nanna hasn't seen you for months and you know she's not been very well recently," Brian said, giving his daughter a stern look.

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Ricks vision began to lighten; the world around him a kaleidoscope of pale swirls. His hearing was coming alive the hum of electric light tubes and a strange ventilation sucking noise filling the air. He sensed the passage of time-was it still evening? He didn't think so. His mind tried to retrace his steps.

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What a neat idea, Ted thought. He'd been down Lexington a couple of times a week all semester from his room to his classes at the university and he hadn't even noticed the Chance Café, down on the lower level under a hippy New Age gear store.

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Amanda had always thought her name should be Jane, 'plain' Jane in fact. She had suddenly reached 35 years of age and she realised that she was invisible. During school and her twenties it was always her friends that were noticed by the men that she liked. She had endured many evenings out where handsome men had walked passed to chat to her friends. Her brief marriage to Carl was a convenience rather than a love affair with rom-com like qualities.

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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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"Well, did you fuck her?" Glenda asked her husband as he slipped in the front door. Henry jerked and turned as his wife spoke and flipped on the lamp next to her chair. "Uh.... Well.... Uh...." He stammered and then grinned as he saw his wife was naked. "Yes. Yes, I did." Glenda whimpered softly and shifted in the chair.

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My wife Joan is 62 years old. She is a doctor and a dancer; her lifelong devotion to the art has kept her slim and strong, with great vitality, despite thinning skin, age spots and thickening around the middle. I am passionately drawn to her, find her very attractive, love her with a depth I never knew was possible, and want to fuck her often. (All you young people out there, just because we're old it doesn't mean we're dead.

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Judge Thomas Oakley slowed the car as he crossed Martin Luther Key Street on St. Catherine where it turned into Jefferson. He often slowed down here, in passing the King's Tavern Lounge—although he'd never gotten up the gumption to go in there. It was too close to home and he was too well known.

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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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She was just kneeling on the bed, her eyes obscured by the cloth I'd tied there. I could tell she was nervous, she said she wanted to try something different and kinky; something more exciting. In recent months our love-making had become a little monotonous, we both thought it but she was the first to say it.

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