Your erotic stories

So how long have you been into feet? Who am I? What's my name? Irrelevant. You don't need to know my name, my age or my star sign. What you do need to know is that I work as an S2 auditor for Deloitte, a global financial services firm in their Islington based London England branch. I'm attractive, hard working, driven and get on very well with my colleagues, so with this in mind I think you can see how, when I was chosen amongst five other members of my department to take part in the prestigious upcoming Rising Stars exhibition at the Estoria hotel in Manchester, it didn't come as much of a surprise.

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I heard the door close downstairs. "Did you remember the bread?" I called down to her. "Shit! No, I'll go back." I knew she was tired but her voice said more. She was exhausted. I stood up and went down. "That's okay," I told her. "I'm out of beer anyway." I pulled my jacket from the chair where I usually 'hang' it. "Do we need anything else?" I do most of the shopping anyway, so I was pretty sure we didn't need anything critical. Still, she might want something.

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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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The lights are dim, and soft music is playing as you enter through the doorway. You see a candle or two set out, adding a floral scent to the room. The massage table is laid out in the center of the room, with ample space for your masseuse to walk around you while you're lying down. A chair is set out, and you leave your robe on it as you make your way onto the table. You take a couple of towels lying nearby and cover your breasts and pelvis as you lay on your back on the table.

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About five years ago my ex-wife divorced me as she preferred her girlfriend to me in her life and in her bed. I peacefully moved out of my Northern Minnesota home leaving her and my two stepdaughters, Lynn and Jody. I moved to Southern California and now have a beautiful home in the hills near Laguna Beach where I have developed a clothes free lifestyle around my secluded property and on vacations.

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Janet and Clarke had a pretty good sex life, right from the get go. They had that special chemistry that allowed them both to trust each other enough to be comfortable so that they could both get right down to the core of what turned them on. They both had their share of kinky things that they each liked and they always seemed to be discovering new fetishes and turn-ons. But, as comfortable as they both were with each other, there were still things that hadn't been fully realized between them.

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Sandra was an ordinary type of girl, she was intelligent, but never went out of her way to impress anyone. She wore plain, but smart clothes. Not at all like the other girls I read about on Lit, she didn’t have big tits, she looked her age of 40, and wouldn’t win any beauty prizes. Not that I have anything against stunning girls with large tits. But how many of them are there out there? Millions, if Lit was anything to go by.

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The sex between Devin and me, which began on our third date (a month ago now), has been world-incinerating in its hotness. In addition, call it the effect of the honeymoon phase if you want, but I love the guy with every shred of my soul-his gentle gray eyes, his teeth slightly crooked on the upper right, his large but graceful hands, his messy dark hair, his subtle sense of humor, his passion for the same art and music I like, his trace of an Irish accent. (He and his parents moved to the U.S. nine years ago, when he was twelve.)

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I have never met a man or woman as confident as the young woman who took my anal virginity. She was not dominating, or arrogant, just very confident in herself and her judgments of people. How she knew a guy like me would give her what she wanted, and what I learned to want, I still do not know. We met when I was doing a work survey of a local university to add some decorative pieces to the administration areas and the student union's offices.

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It has been almost a week since my sunset encounter with my lover and I have been worried she might be so turned off by my strange fetish that she no longer wants to see me. Sex had been good before she used a strap-on to fuck me and we had seemed to hit it off outside of bed also, but the tone of our conversations since have been a bit weird.

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