Your erotic stories

As the train slowed down and drew into York station Mark smiled at his wife Serena and asked how she felt. 'Nervous, and as horny as hell,' she replied. The train slowed to a halt and Mark and Serena got off and made their way off the platform where they were due to meet Robert, Mrs Wyles' assistant. They held hands as they approached the ticket barrier and walked through it.

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Serena agrees to be photographed in her high heels After Serena's visit to The Fetish Shoe Shop, Mrs Wyles was in touch with her again. This time she wanted to know whether she would be willing to be photographed wearing her fetish shoes for publicity for the shop. Mrs Wyles pointed out that of course her face would not be shown in the photos. Serena agreed and Mrs Wyles told her that Roger, her photographer would soon be in touch with her.

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Peter fixed his wife a drink, and one for himself, and then sat down next to her on their couch. He was feeling both nervous and excited, it was a big step they were taking and he hoped it was going to restore the spark to their marriage. "Nervous honey?" he asked.

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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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It was payday going into a rare weekend off for me, so I hit the town to have a good time. I work long, hard hours in the oilfield, and when I get every third weekend off, I am usually ready to blow off steam. The crew I work with are a bunch of great guys that love to party on the weekends and days off together, but I choose to spend my time off away from my coworkers.

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I hadn't been getting along with my wife now for some time, in fact thinking about it, it had probably been a few years. Yet after twelve years of marriage we were comfortable with each other and any change would rock the boat and cause too much hassle, especially for the children. We just seemed to put up with each other and get on with our lives. We lived separate lives really yet still had some love for each other.

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She stood in the kitchen, looking at the aftermath of the "cookout". Most of the mess was disposable and she disposed of it. But all that cut-up fruit needed to be put away, so she resigned herself to the task and started placing it back in containers to be put in the refrigerator. She had spent a couple of hours cutting up peaches, bananas, grapes, plums, and strawberries, so her guests could have daiquiris or sangria, or whatever they wanted to make the party more festive.

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"It looks unusually small tonight darling – did you have a sneaky wank when you were in the shower?" I asked my husband, as I climbed into bed, fresh from my own shower, and nuzzled up to him, putting my head on his chest and reaching down to gently feel his turtled manhood between my thumb and forefinger.

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Tina came into the office and settled down in the interview chair opposite. She was a slim, olive skinned creature of Indian descent, about 25 years old. She had a head of thick wavy black hair, bushy dark eyebrows and the slightest hint of hair growing on her upper lip and a down the sides of her ears like the smudge of sideburns on an adolescent boy.

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Vanessa moved closer to Patrick on the couch as they watched a movie they had rented. It was a action film that he had pick out over Vanessa's protests. Unconsciously, he put his arm around her shoulders, not taking his eyes from the action on the screen. Having grown bored some minutes earlier, Vanessa had decided to take control of the situation and get Patrick's mind away from the movie and on to her body, where it belonged.

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