Your erotic stories

"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry." His voice was a soft rush as he apologized for letting the door of the shop close on her, banging her hand in it. He grabbed her hand in his and held it firmly. "I didn't realize you were behind me. I'm so oblivious." He rubbed her hand between his, as he would his own if he'd hurt it. She felt a little jolt of electricity race up her arm and looked up into his bright blue eyes. Another jolt raced down her body. She was sure they had never met before but he seemed strangely familiar.

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Sometimes me and Mike just love to go out, pick up a slut or a stud, or a couple of them, and have ourselves nasty threesomes or foursomes. Lately we've really been getting off on picking up guys, especially since about a year ago I got my husband to start messing around with bi guys, even a few gay guys, bringing out Mike's 'bi' side, which I soon discovered was a big part of him.

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He sat in front of her in fifth grade, heckled the teacher and got into trouble a lot, but that just made him more attractive in her ten year old eyes. He sometimes walked her home and showed her his action figures. She had very little interest in action figures, but she paid attention because of her interest in him.

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"Debby Knut with the big old butt." The sound of that chant rings in my ears to this day. In kindergarten I realized that my butt was bigger than most other girls my age. Rather than I noticed, it was actually pointed out to me routinely by other children. "Debby Knut with the big old butt" was sung as I jumped rope while other girls just herd rhymes such as "My Mother told me." I hated having a big butt. Some of the African American girls had butts that resembled mine, and I began hanging out with many of them, in hopes of not feeling different.

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I stood in formation in the hot, stuffy gymnasium: at ease, but hard as hell. The third local official of the day was basically reiterating everything the previous two had said: how proud everyone was of us, that we'd done good work, etcetera, etcetera. I knew I shouldn't feel so fucking ready to get the fuck out of there, but I'd just spent the last thirteen months, seven weeks and four days, thousands and thousands of miles away from the woman of my dreams.

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Weeks of anger, hurt and frustration had caused the maelstrom of emotions to abate enough that we could be in each other's presence without compounding the situation. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I looked at him, my eyes feasting once more on the visage of this man I love. His silver hair was shorter than it'd been the last time I saw him;

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This Saturday had been especially memorable. The air crisp and fresh. Ourselves were freshly charged with anticipation of the ride. We had food packed in our saddlebags intending to make a day of it. Our cabin was waiting for our return, inviting, luring us to enjoy it to the maximum. We had ridden our horses in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains. Returning at dusk to unsaddle the mares as the sun was going down over the hills.

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"Gimme a little taste," he whispers. I give him an are-you-sure look. The road we are on turns and twists with the coastline; beautiful to look at, treacherous for those types of games. But he's had his hand in my jeans for the last quarter mile. At first he'd had to coax, but he knows just where to touch, and just how to press. Now I was wide open to him, responsive to every touch, deliberate in every returned caress.

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Claire and David were an average couple; just like you and me. They had gotten married almost seven years ago in the late twenties. For the first five years of their marriage, they focused on their careers and finances; saving money to purchase their first home. The day that they moved into the smallish two bedrooms flat in one of the safer and posh areas of London was the day that they threw Claire's birth control pills away. Within three months, they were pregnant.

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I take my daughter to a dance class each week. Her teacher is Nicky and I have to admit I have always had a thing for her although as a married man I never intended on acting on my desires. What is more I always thought the fit and bubbly dance instructor was way out of my league. Standing about 5 foot 6 inches tall and weighing around 110 pounds, Nicky is 30-years-old.

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