Your erotic stories

I Mirrors should be banned, I thought, tilting my head slightly to one side. They're awake, you know, and exist to torment women who appear too fat, too short, too tall, too...anything. Each should be seized, in on-going raids by some would-be federal agency, a Department of Imagery or something, which if it doesn't already exist, ought to be mandated by Congress to protect females everywhere.

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My name is Tom, I’m writing this to kill some time until my wife gets back from wherever she is tonight. She never tells me in advance about what she does when she’s out, or when I’m out for that matter, but she does seem to take great pleasure in sharing the details with me when she’s ready. Let me start at the beginning, so that you can understand how our marriage ended up in the erotic state that it’s in.

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I was eighteen and it was the late sixties in the London suburbs. I was aching to see a woman dressed in a harem/genie costume with sheer legs and sleeves, but I had no idea how to achieve this and nobody I knew ever held costume parties (we don't have that Halloween tradition in the UK). However, from the pictures and movies/TV shows in which I'd seen these costumes, I somehow knew that the sheer fabric from which they were made would be exciting to touch.

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I sat at home on this particular Friday night. My wife, Susan, had called earlier from work to let me know, that she planned to stop off at a bar with some co-workers for a drink or two. This was fine, as it had been a long day and a night of television alone sounded really inviting. About 8:15 the phone rang, it was Susan. It seems everyone went their separate ways after one drink, but she was not ready to call it a night.

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Its genesis occurred more than 25 years ago, before I even knew my wife, Louise and lay dormant until a few months ago. We get together every Friday evening with Roy and Jill, our friends of more than 15 years, alternately hosting dinner followed by a movie. On this particular occasion Roy had something to show us before the main feature.

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"Now, Tina," said charge nurse Melina Nash, "You seem to have settled in very well. How do you like it?" "Oh, it's really good." replied eighteen year-old Tina, a student nurse of just six weeks. In their crisp uniforms, the two girls made as pretty a picture as you could hope to see: Melina, twenty four, with her fine blonde hair and pretty face was the sort of nurse who appeared in the nursing recruitment advertisements, while Tina, with her slim, boyish figure, dark eyes and short dark hair was a real stunner.

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Spring was around the corner and my husband and I had our two year anniversary coming up in a little over a week. No, it was not our wedding anniversary, it was the anniversary of the first time I found out about one of Steve's fetishes and things have never been the same since. Our sex life has been on fire and I have loved every minute of it.

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Joan wears a white sleeveless tee shirt and faded jeans, her blue hair cropped short and her chest flat. From a distance, she gives the first impression of being a guy. The right arm is gone, less than a third of the upper arm remains. She walks with a swagger, nothing bothering her. "Hey, babe," Roger calls, seeing her walking across the parking lot to her car.

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It was another long night at work. Apparently there was some event going on, a charity thing. Word had it that there would be a lot of cigar smokers there. Great. A lot of grumpy old men throwing their money at Nicaraguan orphans. Not that I have anything against the orphans. It just means I am going to have my work cut out for me. I had drink detail. Even more fun for me.

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I'm having an affair. Like many in this position I didn't plan it. I'm in my mid thirties, happy with a family and my life but I guess something must have been missing otherwise I wouldn't be here. It started because of the bad weather we'd been having. Weeks of rain with little respite had made our laundry pile grow and grow.

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