Your erotic stories

An adventure with pegging and peeing, set in the great outdoors of the Olympic National Rainforest. Since people seemed to enjoy hearing about how I lost my anal cherry to my wife's strap on, I thought you might like hearing about another experience we shared and how that wonderful toy of hers found it's way up my butt again.

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"Wake up, you fuck." Jeff opened his eyes and saw the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. Before Jeff could even see a face, the trigger was pulled and everything went black. Jeff sat up drenched in sweat. It was only a dream, but it was the same dream he'd been having for the past week. The dream was always exactly the same, always very short, always a gun to his forehead, and he never saw the face. After a few heavy breaths Jeff was finally ready to get back to sleep. He looked at the clock however, and it was almost time to wake up for work anyway.

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Peter was dozing on the London bound train. It was 8.30 on Friday evening. He had had a busy week's work, and as he had nothing planned for the weekend, he had decided at the last minute to head into London in search of some fun. Aged 25, tall, good-looking with shortish, dark hair, he had little problem in pulling girls when he had the mind for it, but had no interest at present in a long term relationship.

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Erica Cranston sits on the exam table across from Dr. David Madison in the room, nothing between them. The door is closed. Her knees part wavering nervously. He sits on a low stool, legs crossed, one hand holding his chin as he listens. She's used to the conversation now. This is not the first she has met with.

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Since my last essay about How To Have a Successful Cuckold Relationship was such a smashing success, and since most of the men who commented acknowledged that the were 'small' in the dick department, I thought it might be appropriate to talk a little about this subject.

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It was 1959 and I was 19 years old. I had left London and had accepted a position as a junior clerk in a large company in the north of England. I found a small, cheap bed-and-breakfast hotel run by Mrs. Johnson, a friendly motherly type, who made me feel instantly at home. I decided to stay there for a couple of weeks until I found a flat to rent. It was Friday and my first night in the city.

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There's nothing more gratifying than watching a man lick his cum off your stocking feet. Especially if he has begged you for the privilege of putting it there in the first place. I love the feeling of power as I look down upon him enthusiastically performing an act that some would consider humiliating. Most men won't even consider eating their own cum, but here mine is greedily lapping up his spend from my nylon encased toes.

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"What the hell do you mean eight hundred bucks?" I practically yelled into the phone. "It's a fucking water pump!" My mechanic gave me some song and dance about having to pull a load of shit off the engine to get to the broken part. "Fuck, dude," I said. "Where the hell am I getting that kind of money?" He gave me some more song and dance.

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My name is Zake. I'm called that because my parents gave me an unpronounceable Ukrainian name, and that was the best fit that came out of kindergarten. It stuck, and it's been hard to get confused with anyone else in the phone book. I'm 34 years old and I'm an instructor for heavy equipment. I also dig vacant lots for homebuilders on the side with my own business.

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Sally was petrified. She sat on the side of the bed slowly pulling the nylon stocking up her leg, she fastened it to the suspender belt and stood up she checked to make sure that they both were the same length before stepping into her skirt. She zipped it up at the back and looked in the mirror. Her face was as white as a sheet and her heart was pumping faster than ever.

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