Your erotic stories

It's odd how you tell one car from another just by sound, but I knew it was Aunt Em when I heard the car pull into the driveway. She's not actually my aunt. She and Mom were college roommates and have been joined-at-the-hip best friends ever since. Her parents stuck her with the name Frances Marie. Everyone calls her Marie except Mom, who calls her Frankie. I couldn't say Aunt Frankie or Aunt Marie when I was young so she was always Aunt Em to me until recently. Now I call her Frankie, the way Mom does.

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I was feeling a bit tipsy as I topped off the two glasses and dropped the empty wine bottle in the trash. I had a splitting headache that wasn't responding to aspirin, and I had nothing stronger. "Sandy?" Julie, my best friend, called from the living room, "You put the other bottles in the fridge?" "Yeah, they should be cold by the time we finish these."

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The familiar tingling began almost instantly after Henry slid his hard cock inside his new bride. Anne's wet hole engulfed him in welcoming heat as the length slid in slowly. Kissing softly on her left shoulder, he eased his body down using his knees and forearms for support. "Ohhh," responded his sexy wife. "Mmm, oh my god." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her body alive after a lengthy prelude from Henry's talented tongue.

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They walked in to the room and let the door close behind them, finally alone. Instantly they were in each other's arms, kissing hungrily. Suddenly she broke the kiss, "Easy now pet, plenty of time for that. I'm going to go and change, why don't you undress for me". With a smile she walked in the bathroom.

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I always thought that the trouble with my friend Lacey was that she was so gullible. As much as I hate stereotypes Lacey is quite simply one stupid dumb blonde. Imagine this, a tall six foot statuesque girl, with curves in ALL the right places, firm but bouncy tits, a rounded ass that sways not wobbles when she walks, and that wonderful not quite honest tint to her skin.

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I knew my roommate was into some strange things, but I didn't know what to make of the over-sized diaper I found in her drawer one afternoon when I was looking for a shirt she'd borrowed from me. Cara was like that; she never returned anything, and I've always thought it rather childish, but not diaper-wearing childish.

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I had been broken up with my ex girlfriend, Erica, for over six months and both of us had moved on, or so I thought. She called me at work one fateful day and asked if she could see me, that she had something to tell me. I said okay and began to think of what the news might be. She arrived at my office right before everyone left for the day. She knocked on my door and I told her to come in.

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PRELUDE The four divorced women were gathered at Joan's house for an afternoon of Bridge. It had become a ritual that each Wednesday they would play cards in the morning, have lunch and then enjoy sex with each other. Each week they rotated the location so that each woman had an opportunity to host the group.

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The café was warm, filled with low chatter and the pungent scent of roasting coffee. A jazz band sent its smooth sound over the vast expanse of crowded tables. Seated by the window, Hyuga bent his head over his sketch book, silently absorbed in the task of laying out the scene around him. His pencil glided across the page; he glanced around frequently to take in the exact detail of a certain mug or a woman's blouse. Incessantly, he flipped the dark bangs out of his eyes.

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Call me Jerry. I was a stranger in a strange town. I know I'm stealing those opening lines from Melville and Heinlein but if you're going to steal, steal from the best. I had recently moved to Florida and I had made a few friends in my new home but had yet to meet that special someone. My business occasionally took me on the road so here I was in another new town, knowing absolutely no one.

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