Your erotic stories

You check the mirror for the last time. The blue slut top. The collar and fishnets. The heels look good. And the riding crop feels at home in your hand. You're ready for him now. As you leave the bedroom and make your way to where he is waiting, you find an anger you didn't know you had welling up inside.

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As Lorraine walked up the steps of the mansion for Andrew's one o'clock lesson, she could hear him butchering Beethoven's "Für Elise" in a way so awful it had to be intentional. Sure enough, the musical carnage soon ended in a burst of raucous laughter followed by the sound of several people slamming their hands down on the keyboard—all in all a forced, nasty sound.

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"I knew you were unique as soon as I saw you in the club." She clutched his arm firmly, her head resting against his shoulder. The fact that she held his arm against her left breast was a nice bonus to the close physical contact. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Do I have a dark aura or something?" She looked up at him, smiling sweetly, her red-painted lips making that small facial gesture all the more prominent underneath the street lamp. "If you do, then I can't see it. But the moment I first saw you, I just 'sensed' something unique about you, only I just can't put my finger on it."

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