Your erotic stories

Brenda was my first true slut, or more accurately, the first inexperienced women that I trained to be my personal piece of ass. She was a dumb little bitch, but just what I needed after a brutal divorce. About 5'2", 115 pounds, bigger than average tits (actually, quite impressive tits, a real head turner above the waist) a delightful bubble butt, and a small, blond pussy with very tiny labia.

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At 7pm sharp Michael pulled up in front of my door in his brand new range-rover. I smiled as I opened the passenger door and lifted the hem of my dress to get in. He was looking as gorgeous as ever in pants with a shirt and knitted pullover in case it got cold later. One of the benefits of dating older guys is that they know how to dress well, I thought to myself. I'd made an effort too, in heels and a cute little printed summer dress that was the result of a recent bout of retail therapy.

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She walked out of the bathroom to the middle of the empty room. It was a bedroom of sorts, but completely devoid of furniture. The carpet on the floor was thick and plush and a dark rich chocolate brown. The paleness of her skin contrasted nicely with the dark carpet. Almost the reverse silhouette.

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There I was, lying on my bed with my rigid cock in my hand. I'd been edging myself closer and closer to orgasm for near an hour now, and could tell that I was getting close to maximum pressure. My wife was out with her friend shopping, I'd hoped that she would be home in time to suck me off and swallow this ever growing load, but the chances of that were growing slim. My computer lay next to me on the bed, the screen flickering with a maddening array of eroticism.

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You couldn't forget Crystal. Beautiful, tall, with long black hair, dark green eyes and a full mouth that was usually laughing at something or someone, and always painted with a startling red lipstick. Her full tits clamoured for your attention, invariably only just contained by the fabric of some immaculate designer outfit, worn with high black boots with higher heels. But the most memorable thing among the many things about Crystal was what you saw when she walked away - her broad and glorious arse.

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It has been a long and busy day at the office and I was handed a major [paper to read and comment on to take home with me. My boss needed my report first thing in the morning. I left a little early – after I called you to let you know – and you promised an early dinner so I could spend a quiet evening completing the task.

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Tomas was going to spend his senior year of High School on exchange. He had decided to go to America to work on his English and he had always wanted to visit there. His friends assured him that American girls are easy, the school work is easy and he would have a great time. Tomas ignored them, for the most part. He knew that girls are pretty much the same in Spain or England or Japan. He was not interested in an easy girl, but instead thought it would be nice to find a really cool American girl.

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Sometimes on warm summer days I like to get out and hike in the sunshine and fresh air. One of my lady friends, Doreen, is an avid hiker and often joins me. We both love hiking in the hills outside of town where we can get our exercise but still enjoy privacy. A few days ago I picked her up at her apartment and drove to a remote hiking trail. We followed the trail for a while then left it and headed for a spot where nobody else ever goes.

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She's got long, straight blond hair that always smells like coconut, a pair of legs that make up two-thirds of her height, and a round, narrow little ass. She also has an insolent, self-satisfied swagger, a pert, better-than-thou smirk, and a fifty-dollar manicure. I've taught a few like her before, and I know the way it goes. She's seen how I look at her. She's slacked off this whole term. I can tell she thinks she can scam an A out of me by shaking her ass.

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Standing in line at the meat counter of the little family owned market, I couldn't keep my eyes off the attractive young woman waiting ahead of me. She was wearing Capri pants that perfectly displayed her fine young form. Over the years I had met far more interesting women in food markets, fabric stores and garden centers than in bars. "Have you shopped here before?" Not terribly original, but it was a start.

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