Your erotic stories

Needing a break from things, I treated myself to a weekend in a luxury hotel on the coast. Arriving on Friday afternoon, I showered and dressed and went down to the lounge. It was quiet. Looking for company and some holiday fun, I left the hotel and strolled down the main street of the town, enjoying the warm evening air. There was music coming from a run-down looking pub and I went in. The bar was crowded and there was a band playing in the lounge. This was more like it.

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Part of me hates this man, whom I'll call "X" for now. We didn't get along as a couple, which is why we broke up in the first place. I didn't even hate him when we broke up- it was very amicable, the old ‘we're just in very different places right now,' blah blah blah… but very soon after the split, I found myself fantasizing, over and over again, about the sex we used to have. It became totally consuming, to the point that I finally found myself breaking down and calling him on the phone one day.

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There it was, shamelessly hanging out for the whole world to see. Like a big, denim-clad moon, just waiting for some enterprising astronaut to rocket aboard. Carrie bent fully over, kneeling in the vinyl seat and leaning out the passenger car window. Her ass swayed in counterbalance to her waving arm as she shouted goodbyes to her friends on the train platform. Her tight jeans struggled like hell to contain her flesh, but were losing the battle.

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"M...m....Melons..." My stammered exclamation hung there in the laundry room as the young woman and I stared at each other. I could not for the life of me recall her real name. She was, after all, not my son's girlfriend. If anything, she was a hanger-on, an occasional presence drinking beer or occupying a lawn chair while the boys worked on trucks. All the guys just called her "Melons" because of the balloon like breasts she so proudly paraded in front of her.

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My lover has an Afrikaans accent. His breath whispers against my neck as he speaks gruffly in my ear, pinning me to the living room wall. I push my behind into his groin as he cups my tits, groaning he is "so glad he met me." It's a rainy summer's night, all sticky and we're slick with sweat. We're both in singlets, he's in jeans and I can feel his thick length as he nestles it between my shorts clad cheeks.

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Class. Math class. So boring. Who would have thought that I'd have to pay fucking $20 grand a year to take shit I hoped I'd never see after high school? No one said, "Hey Susan, when you get into college, you're gonna spend the first two years taking shitty ass math courses and doing trigonometry problems just for shits and giggles. Enjoy university!" Why the fuck not, I ask? I'd have blown this shit off so fast, I'd be-

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I woke in the night and lay in bed next to you listening for whatever it had been that brought me from sleep to consciousness. Around me, the house was quiet, the white noise of night sounds a barely audible suss in the darkness. I knew you were asleep next to me; I could feel the soft warmth of your presence that told me you were still in our bed and hear your soft gentle snores as you breathed slowly and rhythmically.

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It was nearly pitch dark in the bar, and an air of excitement was palpable in the quiet murmurs of the crowd. Frantic whispers broke out as the emcee stepped to the microphone and the house lights came up. Now you could see the large screens hanging from the ceiling in strategic spots along the room. Now you could see the pommel horse onstage, the examination table with stirrups, the loops and bars and stocks that permitted a variety of bound positions.

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Theirs was an arrangement of logical and mutual convenience. Through the various risks they both had to take with their respective partners, they managed to attain rewards never before dreamed. Beyond the protective walls of the Hotel, they were respectable, law-abiding individuals who demanded decency from all they came into contact with. Within those Hotel walls, well, that was a different matter...

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"I've never done that before, will it hurt?" she asked, sleepy eyed. We hadn't seen each other in over a month, we'd been kissing and had shed most of our clothes. The atmosphere was heavy with lust, it seemed like a good time to ask. "I don't know, beautiful, I've never done it either. If it does, we'll stop," I answered. I appraised her mood, then added, "It might just be fantastic."

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