Your erotic stories

Sarah and DJ met online, as a result of their mutual interest in writing and reading erotic stories. Emails progressed to phone calls. They decided to meet. Sparks flew. After many weeks of almost around-the-clock, non-stop, hot, wet, "legal" sex (hey, sodomy is still illegal some places), the passion dwindled. Both realized the flame needed to be kindled.

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Hannah finished packing her things. The divorce was nearly finalized. The split was mutual, with no hard feelings. The 36 year old corporate executive closed the last box and stood in the bedroom she had shared with her soon-to-be ex husband. It was a sad ending to her fairytale life. One by one she carried the boxes away to her car. It wasn't as painful as she expected. She just didn't find the right person.

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The cock was so huge, not all of it fit into her pussy, but Savannah enjoyed it nonetheless. The man above her seemed to be enjoying it too. Kyle's green eyes seemed to glow in the dim lighting of her bedroom; his face was twisted with his effort as his hips pumped harder and faster against her. He seemed to be nearing the peak but Savannah wasn't quite ready for him to finish just yet. Taking him by surprise she pushed him off, rolled him on to his back, and quickly straddled him.

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Recently, while preparing vanilla icing for a tray of cooling cinnamon buns, I heard Todd yell from the bathroom. "Gloria, I haven't got a towel!" It prompted my memory: I'd washed them earlier and had forgotten to replace them. However, there were plenty in the hallway. "Linen cupboard," I called back. He thudded down the passageway naked and wet. Hot, I thought.

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The opportunity to fuck the guy next door had probably been there numerous times over the 7 years we had shared a fence, but it was not until a few days before I moved out that I realised it was now or never. He's a couple of years younger than me and has recently lost quite a bit of weight. He's obviously happy with how he looks and I can't blame him.

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The dream comes often. It is never quite the same, but it is the dream, nevertheless. One thing always happens in the dream. Always. In the dream she is: Confident She believes in herself and her abilities. The decisions she makes are good, and the consequences of those decisions are positive. Aggressive people don't disturb her – she deals with them directly and forcefully, if necessary.

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It seemed perfect as I looked through the paper. I needed a place to live and the guy in this ad owned a six bedroom house and needed a roommate. I called then drove over there. I knocked on the door and it was opened by a guy in his early twenties, smoothly muscular, fit with model looks. He welcomed me and I walked in. He gave me a tour, walking behind me the whole time. I asked the usual questions and admired how perfect it would be to live here, hot tub, pool, weight room (with some equipment I'd never seen before). Very private large gated grounds and a nice long distance from neighbors.

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You rush in the door bringing cold air and your own sensual heat at the same time. You're running late and our friends will be here any minute so we can head up to the comedy club for a free show tonight. I'm sitting on the couch waiting for you modestly dressed, hair and make-up done and ready to go, looking every bit the part of the wholesome girl-next-door.

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Nothing, and I mean nothing, in sex gets me off more than the scent and taste of my woman's ass. I don't mean when it's squeaky clean and perfumed. I mean when it smells and tastes like what an ass is and what it does. Nothing beats the erotic blast of kissing her soft, satiny fanny and parting the cheeks to expose her sexy anus.

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"I have a special dessert for you, sweetie", Christina said to me as she cleared the dinner table. "I was wondering where all this was headed" I replied. My wife Christina is a complete ass-play freak, and tonight she prepared a wonderful dinner for me while dressed up as a sexy french maid. Her curvy figure was accentuated by a jet-black satin corset with white lace edging.

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