Didn't get much love at BDSMerotica, so I thought I would try /r/sexystories. My husband and I decided to start a journal of fantasies we would like to play out on each other. Here's my first story. Enjoy! He's painting my fingernails and asks me what I want done next. My back and neck are sore, so I tell him that I could use a massage. He gets the lotion off the bedroom window sill, and joins me on the bed. Slow and firmly, he rubs up and down my back, making sure to knead every inch of my back and neck. I tell him that he has done well and can lay next to me and cuddle for a while. After a while, I start to get thirsty, and instruct him to go to the kitchen and make me a margarita. When he returns, I tell him to get towels and my favorite lingerie, and meet me in the bathroom. After finishing my drink, I find him in the bathroom waiting like a good boy. I direct him to remove my clothing and jewelry, and to start the shower, but not to get the water too hot. He knows how I like it. He informs me that it is ready, and I step in, but the water is scalding. After I adjust the water, I inform him that there will be punishment for that mistake later. I allow him to undress and join me in the shower as well. I tell him to shampoo my hair. Gently, he rubs the suds through my hair and massages my scalp. Then, he tilts my head back and is sure to rinse my hair thoroughly. He applies conditioner to his hands and runs it through the length of my hair, and then uses my bar of soap to wash my face. I rinse my face to find him squeezing my body wash on to my loofah, and preparing to wash me. I inform him that because of the water incident, he may only wash my back, arms, legs and feet. He attempts to apologize for the earlier mistake, but I remind him that begging will only result in further punishment. He concedes and washes the allowed areas, and hands me my loofah. I order him to clean himself thoroughly, dry, and leave the bathroom while I finish bathing. He leaves the shower and while drying, I tell him I am thirsty again. He finishes drying and leaves the bathroom naked, because I never said he could put his clothes on, and goes to the kitchen. When I emerge from the bathroom, he is there on bended knee with another drink. I tell him to get the extra blanket and the handcuffs, and to go to the living room and spread the blanket. He does as he is told. I go to the living room and sit on the couch. I finish my drink, and tell him to go make another, while I fetch something from the bedroom. After a couple minutes, I return to find him sitting back on the blanket with my drink. I apply the handcuffs with his hands in front of his body, and reveal the blindfold I had retrieved and place it over his eyes. I sit back on the couch again, and admire my servant. I command him to come towards my voice. When he had come close enough, I push his head towards my legs, and tell him to kiss his way up and down my legs, but not to touch their intersection. After his loving kisses move up and down my legs a few times, I tell him to lie on his back. I get up from the couch and kneel over his face, and allow him to feel the warmth and wetness hovering over him. I lower myself slightly, and tell him that he may kiss my damp slit, but may not use his tongue yet. He begins to kiss my slit ever so gently, heeding his instruction. I ask him if he is enjoying himself, and he replies that he is. I lower myself further, and allow him to use his flat tongue. Noticing his erect penis, I reach forward and stroke it, making it even harder. I tell him to stop and guide him over to one of the chairs. I sit, and recline back. I inform him that he can continue enjoying my pussy as long as he can keep his massive cock hard. If he goes soft, I will go and get my toy to satisfy myself, and make him listen to my orgasm. He begins to stroke his shaft to maintain his hard-on, and plunges his tongue in and around my clit. After enjoying this for some time, I notice he is still fully engorged, and tell him to lie on his back again. I straddle his face and tell him that he may use his tongue to fuck me, and begin teasing his cock with my hands and mouth again. I can feel him coming close to climax as I begin my own. I drop his cock, and let my orgasm wash over me. I tell him to lick me clean, and then I move my wet pussy over his pulsing cock. I lower myself slowly, and he realizes I am going to fuck him. He starts to thrust his hips without permission, and I remind him of my toy in the other room that can do the job. He lies calmly and I ride his penis hard. I feel that familiar pulsing of him nearing climax, and climb off him. I lay down next to him and allow my hands to roam his body wherever I please. I love feeling his muscles. I wait until his excitement subsides, and remove his cuffs. I go to the couch and kneel, placing my upper body on the couch. I instruct him to come up behind me, gently rub my clit, and make sure I am wet. Then, I ask him if he is still hard, and if he thinks he has earned a release, he replies that he is ready. I tell him to insert himself into my waiting hole, and feel him fill me completely. He does not begin thrusting, because he remembers what happened earlier. I begin to gyrate my hips, and feel his cock move deeper inside me. I allow him to begin thrusting, and tell him to rub my clit more. As the momentum of my orgasm builds, so does his. Soon, I find myself spilling my juices all over his erection. I demand his orgasm. With a final thrust, I feel him pulsate, and his juices overflow from my body. We both lie back satisfied. As I kiss him and play with his hair, I remind him that I am just getting started…
Category: sexystories
Experimenting in college [MF][reluc]
Hello all,
I'm looking for some feedback on a story I've started writing. It's only the very start at the moment. Also, if anybody has suggestions for what they think should happen, let me know.
I apologize if this is the wrong subreddit for this. If it is, can you point me in the right direction.
Thanks
It started with a silly bet.
When I was in college my room had a bed with a metal frame, the ends of which looked like an upside down U. This left a gap between the mattress and the frame at each end of the bed. One day, I was sitting with my boyfriend and we were discussing the risks of falling out of bed. As I’m quite small, I said that there was a risk of me sliding out of the bed through the gaps at the end. This of course resulted in a “you couldn’t fit” argument. I bet that I could. I was nearly right. I started to slide through the gap, but after my head had got through, I couldn’t get the rest of me through. I also found that I couldn’t get myself out, and that in trying to extricate myself, I’d got my arms stuck as well. After he’d stopped laughing at my predicament, my then boyfriend didn’t help me to escape. He took complete advantage of the situation. I could pretend that I felt violated or that I didn’t enjoy myself, but that would be lying.
My first sexual experience [mm]
Hello everyone, I thought I'd describe first sexual experience with you because I'm horny, want to relive it, and feel like sharing.
This happened when I was at boarding school (not to popularise the myth), when I was living in a dorm with two other guys. One doesn't figure at all, but the other figures heavily.
First, about me: I'm a guy about 6 foot tall, 170lbs with dark hair. I have mixed parentage, so have a light olive skin.
Desperate Witches. Part 2. [F, fantasy]
Part two of the wizard/witch erotic saga.
Later that same night, Ron came home. Hermione, dressed in pajamas, greeted him by the fireplace – Ron usually traveled to and from the ministry by the Floo network.
“How was your work, honey?” – Hermione asked as she moved in for a kiss.
“Just bloody terrible, I had to file paperwork all day about the Hippogryph incident!” – Ron replied after pecking her on the cheek.
“Well, come on to bed now, hon” – Hermione tried to squeak out this sentence with as much sexual tension as her modesty would allow.
As soon as they got into bed, Ron said good night and rolled over onto his side. Hermione sidled up behind him and asked;
“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to… you know… make love”
“Oh… sorry, not tonight honey, I’m really tired” – yawned Ron.
Hermione rolled off him. Five minutes later he was fast asleep; Hermione could easily tell – Ron was a loud snorer. She quietly got out of the bed, went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Hermiones mind wandered, she thought back to the last time her and Ron had sex – almost 4 weeks ago.
Crossing the line [MF] [Cheating, MDom]
Note to reader – This is my first publicly posted story. I enjoy writing stories of all types but have found women particularly enjoy when I write something erotic. While all my stories I plan on posting here will be fictional they are based off of very real situations. Of course, as many other writers here have done, I do plan on crossing cultural taboos here and they do not always represent how I feel or what I specifically enjoy. I am appealing to more taboo female fantasies just to see what sort of response I get. Although this one is pretty tame that will not always be the case. If you like it please let me know. Disclaimer- I think it's important to respect everyone and just because I write it doesn't necessarily mean you should do it. Without further adieu – Crossing the Line:
Desperate Witches. Part 1. [MF, fantasy, Mdom]
Hey, this is my first dirty story ever. Tell me what you think!
Hermione’s marriage to Ron had become somewhat familiar, almost mundane. Ever since Voldemort’s defeat 19 years ago, things have just been… normal. Sure they’ve traveled the world, gotten married, raised two children; but the adventures, the dangers, the rushes of her school days; they were gone forever. Or were they?
She and Ron were standing on platform 9 and ¾, waving bye to their daughter Rose; it was her first year at Hogwarts. That’s when she saw him: Draco Malfoy. Their eyes met, and she felt an instant rush. She looked away quickly. The last time she saw Draco was the night that Voldemort fell, back then he could be called nothing more than a boy. But when she looked at him now, she saw a man. Why did meeting his gaze make her so nervous? They were nothing more than enemies back in their school days… But then, then she remembered. Those elaborate fantasies she had… the vivid imagination of a young Hermione Granger knew no bounds. What happened to that fire? That sexual energy? She looked back; Draco and his wife had already left.
The Three of Us [M] [F] [M]
It’s terrifying. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.
We’ve talked about threesomes before, but never in any serious way. There was always the thing about one of us getting jealous and it causing a huge rift between us. But, I pushed the issue, and you agreed. You agreed, but only if the first time could be with a man. What got my heart beating faster at that wasn’t the thought of you sucking a stranger’s member whilst I licked you; no, what got me going was that you said “the first time”, implying there would be more.
And so, here we are. You stand between us in that light green dress you wore to that long-ago wedding. It’s surreal, watching this strange man run his hands over your body like he was meant to do it. His fingers trail across your shoulders, brushing your hair gently away as he kisses along your collar bone. With his other hand, he caresses your breasts through your dress. You crane your neck, letting him softly nibble at you.
She Waits in Her Tiny Bikini for Cold Wet Soil [Mdom, Fsub]
Sára Kovac lies by the edge of the pool, her arms above her head, her eyes closed, her dark blonde hair dipping into the warm water. Her little purple bikini is tight against her tanned body, but her long legs are crossed, very ladylike, protecting her modesty. She waits for me to take control.
I met Sára the night before in the luxury spa hotel I’m staying at in Prague. I’m sitting in the bar, a glass of fine Champagne on the table, a voice recorder concealed under my newspaper. I’m discreetly recording a conversation on the table next to me, between two Czech businessmen, who intel in London suggests are passing information from the British Embassy in Prague to the Russian KGB. MI6 doesn’t know what they’re sending or why. But, like any spy agency, we like to poke our noses into other people’s business.
Having successfully recorded the conversation, which I’ll send back to London for analysis – just two drunken buffoons talking about Cuban cigars by the sounds of it – I order another drink: whiskey on the rocks. Then I spot something that catches my eye: long tanned legs protruding from a short grey skirt, crossed under the table, tight white top, high heels, dark blonde hair. She’s reading a book while sipping a cocktail, Mojito I think. I take a sip of whiskey, unable to look at anything else, but pretending to read my newspaper.
Piano Girl, Chapter One [Mf]
I was hers from the moment she sang.
Something deep within her came through from the moment she shuffled up to the microphone, back from break, that said she was drunk, nervous and incredibly gifted. As soon as she sang the first note my head turned and I was transported from my sauce to another place. She started singing about love lost, the time being more of a window than a door. And I listened to it all, drink growing warm in my hand without me even noticing.
When she finished her set I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed the event. It didn't seem so from the polite claps and small cheers, save for a pair of girls who screamed like the end of the world. When she went over to sit next to them it was clear they were friends. And yet, I was still jealous. I wanted to catch her eye and I hadn't even managed that.
I finished my second-rate drink and eavesdropped. I wanted to know anything about her I could find but the alcohol, the ambient noise and the three girls' heavy English accents were too much—I couldn't glean a thing. So I ordered another drink and decided to give up on the only interesting girl in a month.
The cold water trickles down into her open bikini bottoms [Mdom, paradise]
Isabella Garcia lies in the warm evening sand by the edge of the Mediterranean sea, coyly hiding her little red bikini bottoms with her hands. Occasionally a cold wave breaks the shoreline and washes over her, making her body tense up. But secretly she’s enjoying it.
Isabella is a 27 year old Spanish informant for British Secret Services. She’s a quiet girl from an upstanding family, smart and sophisticated. She wants to help protect western Europe, and has been passing on valuable information to the Spanish and British authorities for a couple of years. She’s still new to the game, but losing her innocence.
We met secretly in my hotel bar last night, where she handed over a dossier on Russian spies in London, particularly those out to kill me. I was very grateful and returned the favour in cocktails. We stayed up into the early hours chatting, tipsy. Then I ordered her a taxi, like a true gent, and stumbled up to my hotel room.
Before we said goodbye though she kissed me, smiled, then got into her taxi. Now I was meeting her the next day on the beach. But I still had time to work out in the hotel gym before I came. I was looking pretty ripped.