Your erotic stories

It was 1849 Martha Petersen was just turned 18. She was the only child of Swedish immigrants who were slain by Indians on the trek west. Martha had been raised by the Cooper family, a childless couple on the wagon train that Martha's family had joined for the journey to a new life. Martha was a beautiful natural blonde girl, with blue eyes and stood at 5ft 2in.

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I've never been the type of girl to have a crush. Back in high school, when all of my friends were talking about the various boys of the week, I was talking about my favorite books or newest sci-fi. Sure, my friends shared some of my interests, but we never connected on that level.

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This story is purely fantasy and in no way relates to anyone alive or dead. Also even though this story illustrates bareback sex I would always encourage safe sex, especially with unknown partners. Thank you to all the wonderful comments for the New slave story. I'm so glad you all enjoyed it. I've gotten a real bug for this story writing, I'll be adding more over the next few months.

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Well, I was about 18 years old and fresh out of high school. Horny as hell, constantly jerking my cock at porn, thinking about girls (I was actually pretty straight at this point) and trying to fuck as many girls as possible. I had hooked up with a few guys too, but they were cross-dressing sissies so I was always the masculine top when we hooked up. Anyhow, this story is about the first time I was the submissive bottom bitch, to a hot well endowed black man...

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It was early April when I returned to the house I had spent my entire life in, up until the previous September. I had gone to college on the other side of the country and had been incredibly homesick for the small town I grew up in, a place I had hated until I had to leave. I missed my friends, my neighbours, my parents especially, and I was incredibly excited to see everyone when I got back home. Unfortunately, I was the first of my friends to finish my final exams at school, so I was back in town two weeks before most of my friends would be back.

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Nothing makes you feel quite like a loser then spending your Saturday night trying to impress women, and ending the night at the bar downing drinks with your gay friend. That was my life for nearly a year. I would get dressed up and head to the bar at about 8:00. I tried to talk to the women who came in. I thought I was pleasant.

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He had been tracking his female's scent for days when he located her. Immediately he recognized who she was and what she meant to him. It had taken him awhile to realize that the circling path she was wondering could only mean that she was lost. Amazing, he had never known any of their kind to be lost. She was obviously young. Panic had struck him for a moment that she would be too young. However further study of her scent established her age to be well into her breeding years.

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Around two o'clock on the afternoon of her nineteenth birthday, Katie was bored. She perched on the arm of her Dad's favourite chair and gazed out of the window at the quiet street where she had grown up. The house was on a T junction so Katie could look straight down a stretch of road for about a hundred yards, past the neat front gardens, to where the street curved out of sight. Nothing moved in the sunshine. The whole street seemed to be taking a summer afternoon nap.

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I had a really shitty day. My secretary quit, to move to Texas with her new boyfriend. Somebody clipped my brand new Porsche in the parking garage, denting the hell out of the passenger side door and both fenders. One of my clients, the Avengers, tore up the hotel they were staying in. And Ozzie Schmuck, the drummer for Snakepit, got busted for coke and can't make the Australia tour.

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I looked on in horror at what had just happened. All my attempts to keep my true identity secret had been snatched from me in that one cold moment when Charles Wild, Skipper of the Golden Eagle, grabbed my shirt and it came away in his hands. His eyes focused on the bindings that held my breasts in place to give the impression I was a boy. I saw the lust in his eyes and realised I could no longer hide under the name of Jack Jones.

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