Your erotic stories

Dee and I were lying in bed one Saturday morning, just being lazy. We were watching cartoons of all things. One of the characters had the dilemma of choosing between two girls. He went back and forth between the two, and in the end, he was alone. I laughed. "I don't see why he just didn't pick one," I said. "Maybe he couldn't choose. They might both have good qualities." she replied. "But one has to be better." I said "But deciding which one is better might be hard."

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Guy was a twenty-five year old washing machine service engineer who was mentally and physically marred by the scarring of adolescent acne. He was also thin, shy, and sexually frustrated, and was altogether the exact opposite of all that service engineers are supposed to be. His was not the life of continual housewife conquests and extended house calls no matter how much he wanted it to be, and on the only two occasions that he had made half-hearted advances to the ladies he had called on he had been rebuffed instantly, and threatened with being reported to head office.

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I was driving cross-country to visit my parents. Halfway across the state I stopped in at a motel to spend the night. It was quite a nice motel, all mod cons, including a swimming pool. And, on a hot sultry night like the current one was shaping up to be, a swimming pool sounded rather appealing.

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My mother-in-law continually amazes me. She is always alert to any opportunity for sex. We are sitting at the dinner table tonight. Ruth, my mother-in-law, a very young sixty five, is sitting next to me, with my wife, Beth across from us. Ruth says to Beth, “I don’t see that salad dressing you had last time, the French vinaigrette type.” Beth says, “I have some in the refrigerator. I’ll be right back.”

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It all started when I was eighteen after graduation ceremony I took part in the all night party that the town puts on for all the seniors. I'm not really into the party scene mainly because I'm in a wheelchair and most homes aren't easy to access and with thirty to forty drunk people stumbling around it isn't really that safe for myself or them. I spend most nights at home either on the computer or watching television. My father died when I was a baby leaving mom and I to fend for ourselves which was hard on us both.

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The name's Michael. I'm an Irish boy from nowhere in particular, and the bright-red ponytail I wear is more than enough proof of that. I dress well enough when I need to; my work wardrobe usually consists of black wingtips, tight-fitting black slacks that are a little loose around the knees to allow for bending, and a dark solid button-down. I'm a relatively fit guy; I bike to work every morning and jog in the evenings.

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As my orgasm subsided, my girlfriend Annie held her mouth completely still around my cock, waiting until patiently until my cock stopped twitching, before gulping her mouthful of semen down. After a few moments, she took my cock out of her mouth, exaggerating the audible "pop" sound for effect, and said, "Ahhhhh.," as she crawled up next to me in bed to snuggle.

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I blame the color of money. No not green! I mean the movie Color of Money. Paul Newman before he became the king of salad dressing, Tom Cruise when he was still more...sane, I guess. And the still young, hot-as-hell Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, oh my god the ass on that woman. She was a fantasy of mine from the first time I saw that movie till...

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You have me tied down to the bed, my limbs stretched and tightly secured with the silk scarves to each of the bedposts. A fifth scarf is wrapped around my head, covering my eyes, completely blocking out all light. The faint scent of jasmine incense is in the air, combined with the smell of hot melting wax.

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After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the door of Michelle's bedroom creaked open just enough for my short brunette girlfriend to stick most of her head out while one small hand wrapped around the door. Her shoulder-length medium-brown hair fell forward as her piercing eyes peered right at me as she mustered up the nerve to step out, her mouth obscured by the door and her hand. The only other things I could see in that moment were her toes as they protruded through the front of deep-blue shoes that I could tell were high heels.

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