Your erotic stories

I had been looking forward to Coachella for months. 3 days of music, arts en drinking. I was going with my girlfriend and a group of her girlfriends. The group consisted me, Charles, Eve, my girlfriend, Rose and Charlene, her hippie friends, and Claire and Anne, her best friends from college. Even though I really wanted to go to Coachella, I had my doubts about going with an all-girl group.

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For a long time now, I've loved the idea of eating my wife's pussy right after I cum inside her. I fantasize about it practically every time we have sex, but unfortunately, as soon as I cum I lose interest completely. In fact, after I cum the idea repels me. I've mentioned this fantasy to Pam, and much to my surprise it turned her on at least as much as it does me.

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"I've been in quite a writing rut lately, with several of my best stories left unfinished for months now. Many people tell me the only way to get out of a writer's block is to keep writing. Hence, I wrote this story based off something peculiar I noticed at a party; a girl sniffing a pair of flats. At first, I amused myself with the idea the girl had a foot fetish, but soon realized they were hers when she immediately put them on.

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"Oh god ... oh god I want a pair of your sister's panties ... oh godddddddd!" Mike pulled his cock out of my pussy as he came, spreading hot cum all over my stomach and breasts. I smiled up at him languidly, completely spent from the incredible orgasm he'd already given me. And yet ... I wasn't quite satisfied.

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My wife had to work Thanksgiving Day for about six hours, which was rare for someone in retail. She went in casually dressed in a nice pair of khaki pants, a nice blouse and some comfortable flats. We planned ongoing g to my parent's house later after she got home. This is a casual affair and we bother planned on having a few drinks before we go. When she got home we had a few beers while watching some football, I looked over and saw that she had on her black trouser sock that I bought for her. They gave the illusion that she had some sheer tights on.

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A courier brought the package that morning, my secretary had told me. I opened the express envelope to find a key card with the name of a high profile hotel near the airport. A room number and a time were written in permanent marker on the back scribbled next to her initials.

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There wasn't an adult in the land that didn't know what her family did. There wasn't a tabloid editor on Fleet Street that hadn't paid out hard cash for sex tapes containing her or her family. They were notorious; famous almost. Salacious details of the exploits became Internet folklore, the stuff of legend.

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I pulled into the parking lot outside the local Office Depot. I parked the car and was headed for the door when I noticed a mildly attractive woman walking toward me, on her way to her car. She was on the tall side, probably around 5'7" with short dark hair and wearing a rather plain summer dress. As she got closer, she looked in my direction and gave me a slight smile in a shy sort of way before quickly looking down at the pavement.

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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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