Your erotic stories

She lay there, trembling. The vibe, small and purple, single battery operated had seemed harmless enough when he’d pulled it out of the drawer. He was expecting company, though didn’t want her to feel like he wasn’t thinking about her and caring for her needs.

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Last night after we made love and you left me, I replayed our conversation in my head. We've known each other for a long time, so I admit that it surprised me to hear you say that sometimes you have a hard time telling me your desires. It seems like you're embarrassed, or ashamed. I don't ever want you to feel that way. You can trust me, you know.

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I had no idea how long had passed when I heard the door open again. I twisted and squirmed a bit, trying to get Caroline's attention. I heard her giggle as she approached. "Mmmmmm," she said, her hand running the length of my cock, "You kept it nice and hard for me, that was sweet." I tried to peek under my blindfold.

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The trip wasn’t long, it just seemed that way. Actually it was just a couple of hours. The jet engines roared as the pilot put them in reverse and the thrusters quickly slowed the plane down to taxi speed. The entire trip my mind was playing considerable scenarios over and over. My hands were sweaty and my stomach was churning so much I’d passed the in-flight meal.

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It was another argument, one that left both of us angry and heated. Sitting on the bed, simmering down from the pent up emotions, I watched as you played on your computer, ignoring the rest of the world. I knew it was a way for you to release stress but I still didn't like it. Watching you play the keys on the keyboard and move the mouse around was always an erotic sight. Always I wondered why you couldn't play me like that.

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"Well here it is the weekend already. Since we don't have to work tomorrow, how about we spend some "quality time" trying to give one another the most INTENSE single orgasm we possibly can," I said. It didn't take long for me to convince my wife to partake in my little orgasm challenge. We decided that the other would treat the winner of our little contest to dinner the next night.

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Those that have never taken the time to get to know him, think of Griffin Connors as an eccentric old man. At fifty years old, he is still a very striking man. He is five foot ten, and weighs around one hundred eighty-five pounds. He has steel blue piercing eyes, that most fail to see are full of warmth. One only has to look beyond the full beard and moustache to see the kindness and humor that life has left etched there through the years.

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The boy awoke, the morning light streaming in through the window on to his face, warming his naked body. Already the day was warm, the hot dry desert air causing the small room to be uncomfortably stuffy before the sun had yet fully risen. Today though, there was an electric current upon the air. Today was his eighteenth birthday.

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At the front door to the gym I looked to my left for no reason at all and espied a young woman dressed in a black pant suit walking toward me with plastic bags in her hands. It had been some time since I did something nice for someone and so I waited. She was the club's receptionist and waiting for her was a small price to pay for the view I received.

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Jenna drove as fast as she dared. The wreck on the bridge had caused a stand still in traffic for thirty minutes and when it had started to move it was at a snail's pace. She was fifteen minutes late. Jared would be displeased. He'd told her to be home no later than six-thirty. She left the packages in the car and went straight inside. "You are late."

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