Your erotic stories

Bobbie is 28, she is about 5'9", dark haired with beautiful eyes and long lashes. she has large firm breasts which are a D cup or more, and a ridiculously happy go lucky nature. She is one of those slightly ditsy sorts who bumbles through life without much of a plan. Basically she is gorgeous. She is also my wife's cousin!

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Chicago. The Windy City. I tried to look out the windows of my hotel room to calm my nerves but I was unfocused and flighty. The scenic lake in the distance couldn't hold my attention for more than a few seconds at a time. Panic seized me. Again. During the past hour my nervousness had escalated from apprehension to something bordering on terror.

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In a cool low lit room you push me to my hands and knees making sure my legs are spread wide. You take your time running your fingertips over my hips, thighs, to the curve of my ass and I shiver. I move to push back on your hands and you hold me still, taking your time. I feel the palm of your hand graze over my sex then cup firmly. I'm tense, nervous and incredibly turned on. I hear the sigh of approval from your lips as your fingers slide up sideways toward the one hole that's been neglected for over a year.

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"So what were you doing all afternoon while I was slaving over a hot terminal?" Tom's wife was giving him a cold stare. "Running?" "Swimming," he admitted. "Really?" The stare was getting colder now. "I thought we were going to go now, after the little kids were gone." "We can go. No problem."

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I was so glad to be on the way home. It wasn't a particularly long or difficult date; I was just ready to be home – home to my loving wife of fifteen years. I know it's a cliché, but my wife really is my best friend. They say that a strong marriage is built on good communication. Well, we have a very strong marriage. We talked about everything – all the time. We would send each other short e-mails or text messages several times a day and usually when my wife came home from work we would often sit on the couch just talking for 30-45 minutes as we decompressed (I get home an hour before she does most days).

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Gently closing her bedroom door, she felt her heart start to pound as her excitement rose. It was his birthday and time to prepare her special gift. On the dresser were the black garter belt and dark nylons she'd bought earlier in the day. She knew he'd love them -- a garter belt and stockings were among his greatest turn-ons, and hers, too.

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How long can you last just sitting by the hotel pool on holiday without getting bored? I can go about an hour before I start to shuffle. Have you every got so bored by the pool you played imaginary games? Looking at the bikini clad women and guessing if they have shaved, trimmed or hairy little cunnies, if they had a good pounding last night, what they look like when they come and, my favourite, my top ten shagables in each position.

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Brooke was home from summer vacation and already had way too much time on her hands as it was, but this summer was different she was home from her sophomore year of college and she was undecidedly single. Brooke was short, and thin. She had large breast, and a nice round ass. At 19, her dark skin, and long hair made her a vixen that she was proud of being. She walked around with very little to cover her voluptuous body, but that didn't matter she loved being looked at. She loved the thought of people getting turned on by looking at her.

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"So?" Betty Simmons stared across the lunch table at her friend, Carol Whyre. Carol had taken a bite of her egg salad sandwich and was chewing thoughtfully, smiling as she purposely ignored her friend. "So?" "So, what?" "So what's it like?"

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The bus is crowded during rush hour, and you get pushed toward the back, standing in the aisle, held up by the bodies pressed against you. You only wore a flimsy little cotton sundress that day because of the heat, but now you're starting to wish you had a little more clothing on. The heat wave in this city has lasted so long, you think people might be getting a little crazy, yourself included.

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