Erotica by Shannon

There's something delicious about anticipation—how it coils low in the belly, how it lingers in the fingertips when you pack your overnight bag with toys meant for pleasure. All week, I'd been aching to share the ways I'd been touching myself, craving the moment I could show R. exactly what I'd discovered. Tonight, I wouldn't just tell him. I'd let him watch.

The shop smelled of Nag Champa—her favorite incense. The moment she stepped inside, the familiar scent wrapped around her like a soft shawl, instantly soothing the ache she hadn't realized she was still carrying. It had only been a few weeks since the breakup, but the memory was still sharp. She'd planned a surprise—fresh sheets, a new down comforter, a quiet gesture of love. No occasion, just a moment to make him feel cherished. She hadn't seen any cars in the driveway and assumed he was at work. There was no need to circle around back; the front was clear. She let herself in, the house silent, just as she expected. But upstairs, behind the bedroom door, everything changed. She didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just stood there, frozen, as the scene unfolded—her boyfriend tangled in bed with his best friend's wife. The sheets and comforter slipped from her hands, forgotten. She turned and walked out, her heart hollowed by betrayal. Since then, she'd returned only ...

They went to Target for his pants. Passing a mannequin, she caught his subtle eyebrow lift at the pink thong on display. She paused—XS. He helped, his touch laced with an impatient eagerness only she could read. At checkout, as the clerk bagged his pants and her pink thong, I blushed. Naughty visions of their night ahead flickered through my mind. He met her gaze, a silent confirmation.  And, a slight shift in his stance said it all before they walked out.

💋 Ever Wonder About a Sex Club?   She had never meant to wander into that part of town. The rain had started as a whisper, then grew bold, soaking through her silk blouse as she darted beneath the awning of a building with no name—just a crimson light glowing above the door like a heartbeat. Her breath caught. Something about it felt... alive. Inside, the air was velvet. Low music pulsed like a secret, and laughter curled through the room like smoke. She wasn't supposed to be here. Not her. Not the woman who paid her taxes early and always said “no” to whipped cream. But tonight, something had shifted. A man leaned against the bar, his gaze slow and deliberate. He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to. His presence was a promise. And when he finally spoke, his voice was whiskey and midnight. “You’re new.” She nodded, unsure whether her pulse was racing from fear or fascination. “I didn’t plan to come in.” “No one ever does,” he said, offering her a drink she didn’t recognize. “B...

Those Blue Eyes Say So Much:   Sensual Nights ,  Lingering Glances, and the Language of Lust He got into my car, and the moment he did, the air shifted—charged with memory and anticipation. I turned to look at him. His eyes, a deep and mesmerizing blue, met mine with a quiet intensity. I knew that shade. I knew what it meant. Satisfaction. It was written in the way his gaze lingered, in the subtle curve of his lips. Two nights earlier, we had surrendered to each other in the hush of the car's embrace. The memory of that night—our bodies entwined, our breath mingling—still pulsed through me. When we parted, I watched his taillights disappear into the night, my heart whole, my body humming with the echo of his touch. I fell asleep with a smile, the warmth of him still wrapped around me. Now, his gaze pierced through me again, and without a word, he knew. He knew I felt it too. He grinned. I blushed, lowering my eyes, trying to hide the obvious—though failing beautifully. "Did yo...

He Glazed Me with His Honey: A Raw Tale of Desire and Surrender The night wrapped around me like velvet—cool, fragrant, and full of promise. After tending to my bodywork clients, I slipped behind the wheel, the hum of the engine a low purr beneath Sade's sultry voice. Her music constantly stirred memories of R—of the way our bodies had tangled in the car just the night before, limbs entwined, breath fogging the windows, the taste of him still lingering on my lips. As I turned onto his gravel driveway, the scent of earth and woodsmoke greeted me like an old lover. I paused, letting the crisp air kiss my skin, my gaze drifting upward into the ink-blue sky. The stars blinked knowingly, as if they too had witnessed our secret rendezvous. I exhaled the day, my body softening in anticipation. Inside, the house radiated warmth—garlic and cedar mingling in the air, the wood stove casting golden shadows across the walls. R had built this sanctuary with his hands, his heart, and his quiet de...

The Tail of Temptation – Chapter Three: The Reveal Published under: Erotic Stories The bedroom was quiet, bathed in soft amber light. R stood near the window, his silhouette framed by moonlight. Music played low, like a heartbeat beneath the silence. I stepped in, the tail hidden beneath lace, my body wrapped in his shirt and a layer of nervous excitement. He turned—and paused. "You look… breathtaking,” he said, voice thick with emotion. I smiled. “I wanted to surprise you.” He crossed the room slowly, reverently. His fingers brushed the lace, lingered at my hip. “This,” he whispered, “is more than I imagined.” We didn’t rush. The night unfolded like a slow-burning candle—warm, flickering, intimate. The tail wasn’t just a toy. It was a symbol of trust, of shared curiosity, of the quiet bravery it takes to say yes to something new. Later, tangled in sheets and laughter, we lay side by side. The toy rested on the nightstand like a trophy of our adventure. “I think we just opened a n...

The Tail of Temptation – Chapter Two: The First Night Published under: Erotic Stories We pulled into the driveway, both buzzing with anticipation. The tail was new territory—uncharted, thrilling, a little intimidating. I knew I'd need to do what I always do: say a quiet prayer, trust my instincts, and wing it. R went upstairs while I stayed behind to prepare. I applied a bit of coconut oil, gently inserting the tail plug, then slipped into my green lacy undies. Brushing my teeth, I wiggled my hips to feel how it filled me—firm, present, deliciously unfamiliar. I tugged it slightly, just to test the sensation. My clit pulsed in response. This was going to be interesting. I pulled his freshly laundered work shirt over my head, the scent of him wrapping around me like a hug. One more wiggle, one more smile, and I padded upstairs—open-minded, open-bodied, and ready. Stay tuned for the final Chapter three: The Reveal.

The Tail of Temptation – Chapter One: The Mall Encounter Published under: Erotic Stories R and I weren't supposed to be shopping for ourselves. It was date night, and we were on a mission to find a gift for someone else. But somewhere between the food court and the candle aisle, he tugged me into Spencer's Gifts with a mischievous glint in his eye. It took me a moment to catch on. Then I saw him—standing proudly in front of the adult section, grinning like a kid in a candy store. We'd been talking about adding an anal toy to our bedroom play for months, and this was his way of saying, "I'm ready." "Do you see anything that interests you?" he asked, fanning his hand across the display like Vanna White, eyes locked on a gray tail tucked in the corner. I laughed, but played along. "Well, since you asked… that gray one looks interesting." Before I could finish the sentence, R had it in hand and was halfway to the register. Eight minutes later, ...

🌧️ This Rain Makes Me Want to Fall Asleep in His Arms The rain makes me want to fall asleep in his arms. Not because I'm tired, but because I feel safe—wrapped in the rhythm of our bodies, the hush of the world outside, and the slow burn of our desire. It's a Dirty Dancing  afternoon. You know the scene—Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze, tangled in each other, the rain falling like a curtain around them. Except I'm Shannon, and my lover is R. We kiss lazily in his cloud-like king-size bed, Sade humming in the background like velvet. There's no time here. No rush. Just the soft press of his lips, the weight of his body, and the way his cock nudges my inner thigh—gentle, insistent, alive. His muscles are firm under my hands, and I explore him slowly, deliberately. His back, his ass, the curve of his need. We don't speak. We listen—with our mouths, our hands, our breath. This is foreplay; I call it listening  to your senses . It's quiet, but not silent. We speak in...

Saturday Seduction   She fit against me like a secret I'd been waiting to tell. The rain outside blurred the world, but in this moment, everything was sharp—her scent, her warmth, the way her breath hitched when I pulled her closer. She’s here. She wants this. Just like I do. I whispered, “Let’s go up to my nest,” and felt her body respond before her lips did. That little shift in her weight, the way her fingers lingered on my arm—it was all the answer I needed. As we slipped beneath the covers, I wrapped myself around her, my face buried in the curve of her neck. God, she smells like rain and something sweeter. I could stay here forever. Her body molded into mine, and I felt the slow thrum of desire building between us. I pressed against her, not to rush, but to remind her: I’m here. I feel you. I want you. She turned onto her stomach, and I reached for the oil, watching her with a hunger I didn’t need to name. She knows. She always knows. I stroked myself slowly, delibera...

The Orgasm You Have When You’re Alone—But Aren’t A few days ago, I experienced something rare. R brought me to an orgasm I’ve only ever known in solitude. The kind that arrives when I’m alone, unobserved, and completely unguarded. But this time, I wasn’t alone—and that changed everything. We walked across his land, the sun casting long shadows over the Bluestem. He moved the heavy fence to the middle pasture and waited for me. When his hand slipped into mine, it carried the energy of a slow Sunday morning—unhurried, present, and full of possibility. He glanced at me with a flicker of mischief in his deep blue eyes and murmured, “Gun shack?” My body responded before my mind could catch up. I traced the inside of his palm with my fingers, letting him feel where I already was. He tightened his grip slightly, his restraint palpable, and picked up the pace toward his tin-roofed retreat. Inside, the world fell away. R stripped quickly, shedding his smooth exterior. I undressed slowly, teasin...

Charcoal Rain The rain poured steadily, blurring the world beyond my windshield. With traffic stalled and nowhere to go, my thoughts slipped into a memory—one shaped by thunder, charcoal, and the heat of a shared moment. The hum of idling engines faded as my mind wandered. I was no longer in my car—I was back beneath the tree, rain cascading like a curtain around us. He traced charcoal across my skin, each stroke a silent vow. The storm watched as we surrendered to something primal, something sacred. I clung to the rough bark, my breath shallow, my body painted in streaks of ash and longing. He pressed close, his warmth anchoring me against the storm. His hands explored with reverence and hunger, and though the mosquitoes swarmed, I barely noticed. I was too consumed by the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered. His voice was low, gravelly, threading through the rain like a secret meant only for me. I whispered back, my words trembling with desire and anticipation...

🖤 It's Not Just About His Cock Last Sunday, I stepped into a fantasy I'd long imagined—blindfolding R.S. while wearing a navy blue lace bra and panty set. To seasoned BDSM players, it might seem tame. But for me, it cracked open something more profound: a new lens into R.S.'s psyche. I realized then—it's not just about his cock. That moment revealed how layered his desires truly are. The man blindfolded on the bed wasn't just craving Sex. He was yearning for a woman who could match him, challenge him, and guide him into new realms—mentally, emotionally, intimately. His cock is a bonus, not the focus. Yes, it deserves admiration, pleasure, and worship. But the real power lies in his mind and senses. Without stimulating all five, any woman would miss the golden opportunities that lie beyond the physical. And when I took one sense away—his sight—I saw something shift. His need for control surged. That insecurity, that primal edge, became my playground. I could push hi...

The Sexiest Thing You Can Say What if the sexiest thing you could say had nothing to do with words? Last Saturday, my lover R.S. went dirtbike riding—his first long ride of the year. Forty miles or so. Just him, the trail, and the hum of adrenaline. I know how he gets after a ride like that. His energy? Uncontainable. His body? Taut, pulsing with effort. His cock? Rock-hard and ready. The thought of him—dust-covered, sweat-slick, all man—made my thighs ache. I was already wet before he walked through the door. And when he did, I had plans. Plans to use every ounce of that post-ride energy. I was ready for a ride of my own. You could call it selfish. But leaving that kind of opportunity untouched? Not my style. We jumped into his F-150. I didn't care where we were headed. I just needed him parked. Still. Mine. I had intentions. Unladylike ones. He drove us to a secluded, pretty, wooded spot near a quiet pond. Honestly, I barely noticed the scenery. All I wanted was the ...

🌵 Coyote Rock: Where Desire Rides 🌵 He’d passed Coyote Rock a hundred times before, its jagged silhouette just another landmark in the desert’s endless sprawl. But today, it pulsed with memory—raw, electric, unforgettable. A week ago, everything changed. The moment he turned off the trail, the scent of sunbaked earth mingled with the memory of her—S.L.—and the way she’d looked at him that day. Mischief in her eyes, sunlight dancing across her bare skin, she was wild and free, like the desert wind itself. He remembered the way she moved, fluid and fearless, climbing the rock with a playful smirk and a challenge in her voice. Mount me, she’d said, her voice low, sultry, commanding. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper. Primal. A call to surrender. He’d tried to keep control, but she unraveled him with every glance, every whispered word. Her body had welcomed him with warmth and softness, and he’d lost himself in the rhythm of their connection, the way she opened to him, the wa...

Whispers Beneath the Canopy The forest didn't just breathe—it beckoned. I stepped into the hush of green, the air thick with the scent of pine and promise. My skin, bare to the breeze, tingled with the thrill of exposure. There's something primal about walking nude through nature, as if shedding clothes also strips away the layers of civilization, leaving only instinct and desire. Each step was a flirtation.  The moss beneath my feet felt like velvet, the sun a lover tracing golden fingers down my spine. I wasn't alone—he followed, eyes dark with hunger, his breath catching as I moved ahead, hips swaying with deliberate provocation. We didn't speak. Words would have shattered the spell. Instead, we let the forest guide us.  A fallen log became our altar.  The wind, our witness.  His hands, reverent and rough, explored me like sacred terrain. I arched into him, the rhythm of our bodies syncing with the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a mourning dove. It wasn...