Your erotic stories

Before I continue with my story I will introduce you to myself. My name is Alan and I am forty three years old. I have been married to Pam for twenty years now and we are both happy with each other. We have never had any children. This year Pam turned forty and still looks great. She has dark brown hair which she cuts short in a bob which curves in to the nape of her neck.

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He glanced up from his computer when he heard the commotion just outside his open door; his eyes shifted to the clock and noted the time. "Fifteen minutes late," he mumbled to himself. He watched her sauntering in, reciting good morning greetings to her fellow coworkers, their faux smiles and un-cordial greetings in return, falling on deaf ears and blind eyes.

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I was nineteen (about three years ago) when I had my first real life experience testing my foot fetish. I had been aware of my fetish since I was in middle school, always looking under the table at girl's feet. The older I got the stronger the fetish became. I had a couple girlfriends in high school but had never had the courage to tell them about my fetish.

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The Schoolhouse was Rob and Penny's first home together and it was perfect. The grey stone building had lots of character and was set in a very private garden just outside the village which was only an hour's commute to Rob's office. Rob's recent promotion meant that Penny had been able to give up her IT job with a major corporation and the aim was for her to work from home setting up the software business which she had always wanted to run.

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Many would say I was doubly cursed, while few others would say blessed when it comes to what turns me on sexually. Since I can remember I have always been attracted to women with sexy legs and feet, as well as having my balls roughly fondled to the point of seeing stars. I really only had one girl friend who gave me pleasure in this way. Unfortunately I did not find her until my senior year in High School.

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It is a Saturday just like any other for Isabella. She lies in bed listening to the familiar ticking of the clock as dawn creeps towards daylight. It is 4 a.m. and she resists the urge to toss and turn in this familiar state of early waking that has become her newest habit. She will not give into the frustration of it.

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She came every week like clockwork. She always came in on the same day, same time and used the same confessional with the same priest to absolve her of her sins. It was like torture to him. He would pray every week after she left and learned that praying before he knew she would come, that it would give him strength and the power to resist the impure thoughts. To resist...her.

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1. Watching Rani reach. It all started innocently enough as far as I was concerned. I would stop at a gas station on my way to work and pick up the morning paper and a cup of coffee. The only reason I began stopping at this particular place was that it was easy to get in and out of. The reason I continued to go there was Rani.

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Not long after graduating from college with my bachelors, I moved into a house with some of my frat brothers for about two years. I was lucky enough to find a great job that I knew from the start would lead to bigger things if I worked hard enough. The hours were limited, however, so I found myself with more free time on my hands than I wished for.

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The phone rang once. I groaned, stirring from dreams as deep as the blue eyes I had been dreaming about. The phone rang twice. I sat up and gave the phone two middle fingers. The phone rang again. "FUCK!" I shouted, lunging myself across the silk sheets to pick the damned thing up.

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