Your erotic stories

Kathy Porter was feeling a really powerful need -- she very much wanted to get her ass fucked by a big, hard cock. Truth be told, she would have preferred to have that cock plowing into her pussy until she climaxed but she was far too worried about getting pregnant to do that. Her controlling husband, who had gotten religion in a big way just a year ago, was adamantly opposed to the use of any kind of artificial birth control, especially including The Pill.

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"Have you decided on the next scene?" She looked up from her appetizer to see the question in his blue-gray eyes. She reached into her purse and passed him the slip of paper, looking away. Moments later she looked up at his comment. "This will take a little while." She shivered at how clinical he had become. Exactly as she wanted.

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The place is not what I expected. The atmosphere is bright, glitzy, with an overall techno feel that seems almost cold. I had expected something warmer, more ... nurturing, feminine, I guess, from a place that caters exclusively to women. I wonder if this appeals to the butch types, and then laugh at myself for indulging in stereotypes. What do I know, anyway - it's my first time in a "girl bar".

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I. BACKGROUND Traci was a tall slender blonde who had been my Mom's roommate in college. They'd stayed in touch and I kinda knew her from her short visits. She was apparently rather wealthy and traveled a lot. I'd never understood exactly what she did but it was somehow related to the classical music and jazz business.

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"Come on, I dare you!" Jack teased Hadley. The couple was walking downtown, on their way to the car after a nice dinner. They had drunk a bit of wine and it had had an effect on them. Hadley swatted at Jack's arm. "No. When I mentioned that it was my fantasy to flash someone, that's all I meant it to be – a fantasy. Nothing more, nothing less."

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At 28 years old I hadn't been with a man for three years. The first two years after my husband died, I couldn't bare the thought of another man touching me. I felt like it was cheating. Jake wasn't supposed to die in that car accident. He was supposed to grow old and gray with me. Jake was gone and I knew I had to move on, but acknowledging this didn't make things any easier. Still, at twenty-eight I wasn't willing to spend the rest of my life alone.

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From her perspective: I set the mood for the evening and in the bathroom there are candles, soft music and a tub full of hot water. We slide in together and after much kissing and soapy caressing I lean you over the edge of the tub, head out...so I can sensually cleanse your ass. I use thick and creamy soap making lots of yummy lather.

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N--- was a pretty young Asian woman. The first time we went out, I picked her up after she got off work at the restaurant where I had met her. We had made no particular plans, which suited her just fine. As we drove around looking for something to do, a dance song she liked came on the radio, and she closed her eyes and began dancing dreamily in the bucket seat beside me, her arms in the air above her head, her upper body swaying erotically to the beat. Her sweater-clad breasts, round and relatively large for her very petite frame, thrust outward as she moved. I began to believe this would be a very good first date.

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The wife was gone to her sister's for the weekend. I got up late and was shaving in the bathroom mirror when I noticed a reflection in the closet mirrored door. Someone was looking in my bedroom window. I couldn't make out who it was. I only saw the shape of the head. I continued to shave and moved into a different position so I could have a better view. It was a guy. He didn't move. He just stood still and peeked through the blinds.

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Her heartbeat pounds out a familiar rhythm as she waits in the dark, stretched silently across the mattress like an offering, knowing he's on his way. The sensation of her pulse is primal. She's tried to fill the long desolate stretch of daylight hours, anticipation rising with the setting of the sun. A few more hours, a few more mundane tasks, a little more self control. It's a mountain she climbs daily, the precipice of which she now balances on, waiting alone in the tangle of blankets.

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