Stories by Gwen

I've been teasing Eva all morning. She's at work but she makes time to do the little tasks I assign her. Today she has stood before the mirror in the ladies' room and teased her lovely nipples for me. I gave her a script: I belong to you, Miss Gwen. I'm your filthy horny slut and I'll do whatever you say. I'm your fucktoy, your insatiable pussy-licking whore. You own me, every filthy nasty bit of me, and I'll do anything you want. Anything. She recited this as she pinched and twisted and tugged her nipples hard, watching in the mirror, hoping none of her colleagues would come in. We have had some close calls in the past. I know the pain in her nipples travels through Eva's body like lightning, quickly making her pussy wet. I have her dab some of that wetness on her pulse points like perfume and smear some more on her face. Anyone who gets close to her today will smell her sex, like an animal in heat. Eva returns to work, her bra and panties tu...

It happened. The stars aligned with my nerve and my libido. I was about to drive eight hours to meet a tantalizing woman I'd been conversing with online. For coffee, we agreed. Coffee. I'm not saying that coffee is always code for sex, but I am saying that there were plenty of java shops between my place and hers that wouldn't require two tanks of gas and an overnight bag. Everything was packed and loaded. Under my comfortable road clothes was my skankiest lingerie. Under that was a very pale and nervous me. To say I'd never done anything like this before would be the understatement of the year. But I was recklessly restless and she was terribly tantalizing. I was locking my apartment door when I got her message. I had told her I was ready to hit the road. I was expecting a "drive safe," or a "call me when you get here." I was not expecting instructions Once every hour, pull over and play with yourself for five minutes: no more and no less...

Gwen is coming to town. For two or three weeks, it's all I can think about. Gwen is coming. I'm counting the days. Finally the big day arrives. She invites me to meet her at her hotel - the same luxury business hotel where she always stays. She always gets a big suite on the floor reserved for frequent travelers. I park in the lot and make my way through the lobby. I announce myself to the concierge on Gwen's floor, who checks a list before directing me to a door at the end of the hall. I press the button and hear a musical chime. The door opens and Gwen is there. I am always surprised, in person, to be taller than Gwen. Her virtual presence is larger than life. I guess that's natural, given the nature of our relationship. Gwen is dominant, I am submissive. I get pleasure from being told what to do, from being or doing or experiencing whatever Gwen decides. She gets pleasure, she says, from controlling me, from treating me like an object, a sex toy to be used however s...

I've decided to allow you to attend your company party. I am escorting you. We'll put on evening dresses to mingle with the corporate executives and important clients. I'm wearing a little cocktail dress. You're wearing a black halter dress and a delicate collar that discreetly symbolizes that you belong to me. And heels, of course. The party is being held high above the city. The room is beautiful in a spare, modern way. There's a bar in the middle, and all around the edges are floor-to-ceiling windows. You can stand and look down at cars navigating the nighttime streets far below. We look at out the moon and it seems almost close enough to touch. You see your co-workers in a new light, dressed up as they never dress for work, all in their fanciest and prettiest clothes. Suits and ties, cocktail dresses, gowns. The executives and their young trophy wives cluster together drinking scotch. We sip wine as we walk slowly through the room, intent in conversation. After ...

It's Sunday morning in our flat in San Francisco's Marina district. The sun shines through the large bedroom window, waking me gently. I pad out to make us coffee as Julie awakens slowly. I return with two mugs and sit on the edge of the bed next to her. I know there's nothing on Julie's schedule for today, and I have deliberately kept my own agenda clear. "Get up," I say as the aroma of fresh coffee gently awakens her. "Let's drive down to Carmel for brunch." Carmel is a lovely city on the Pacific coast, about 100 miles south of San Francisco. It's full of rock formations and twisted cypress trees, lots of little shops full of homemade candles and crystals and tie-dye - and some of California's best restaurants. Our favorite is on a rocky bluff overlooking the ocean. The waves crash into the rocks below the outdoor deck where we have our brunch. It's a favorite destination. Julie kisses me with enthusiasm for the idea. It...

 I take a last sip of wine, admiring the ruby clarity of the pool of Cabernet, and then I raise my eyes to your face across the table. The light from the torches adds a glow to your skin and their reflection puts a dancing gleam in your eyes. The rest of the diners have left, leaving us alone on the terrace. I take your hand as we stand. We turn for a moment and look out at the waves where they are lit by the moonlight and the torches. I stand close behind you, rub my hands lightly up and down the skin of your bare arms. You lean back against me as we watch the waves roll in and dash up the sandy shore. For a moment I feel your warm body pressed against me. We wander down the stone staircase to the beach, where you feel a breeze swirl the light fabric of your skirt against your legs. We remove our shoes and leave them at the base of the stairs. I take your hand and we begin walking slowly along the shore. The moon's silvery light makes the waves shine like cascades of diamonds as t...

It wasn't until I was at the airport that I learned your flight had been canceled. I got to the airport in plenty of time for once, a big bouquet of roses in hand, to welcome you home. I ran all the way to the cross-country arrival gates and strode up to the info screen with plenty of time. You would be so surprised to see me! And then I saw it. Flight 303  was blinking and highlighted. Canceled. I felt my shoulders slump. The birthday curse had struck again. My identical twin sister and I would spend the day on opposite sides of the continent once more. My phone buzzed. It was you. "Don't go to the airport," you said. "My flight's canceled." "Too late," I replied. "I'm already there!" "What - you? On time? I don't believe it!" "I got here with time to spare. And I got you roses." "You didn't!" I took a quick photo of the bouquet and sent it to her. "You did!" ...

"But where are we going?" Linda asks me, for something like the sixth time. "Linda...you are so impatient! A birthday present is supposed to be a surprise, so let me surprise you." She crosses her arms over her breasts and settles back into the passenger seat with a frustrated sigh as I continue driving. "Can't you give me a hint?" she asks. "Look," I reply. "We're here." I'm just turning the car into the parking lot of a lingerie shop. "Happy birthday," I say. "This is my birthday present?" she asks. "Sexy outfits? Isn't that more like a present for you?" I sputter for a moment before she leans over and gives me a kiss. "I'm just teasing you, darling," she says. "This is very sweet of you." She smiles broadly. "Let's shop!" We walk through the store and admire the offerings: pajamas and negligees and camisoles and nightgowns. Panties and...

Dear Miss Gwen, I don't know how to say this or write this and I'm not even sure if you even want to talk to me ever again. I am so so sorry how I acted and I want you to know that I wish I could go back and take it all back. I know that doesn't mean a lot considering what i did but I hope you will find a way to forgive me. Because thinking that you are angry at me breaks my heart. So please write back and let me know that you don't hate me. I am at the camp my parents sent me to. Everyone here is so nice but they find all kinds of ways to tell us how we should and shouldn't act. Some of the girls had troubles with drugs and some with drinking and others with getting pregnant. I think I am the only girl here because I like girls. No that's not really true. I have to be honest if I am going to get a second chance with you, and I really really want a second chance! I don't like girls - that's not why I am here. I'm here because I love you. And ...