Your erotic stories

Most weekends I go down to Hong Kong – I've got a "Fuck Buddy" there who's also into piss play. He's a very hot flight attendant and Asian like me. We're not exclusive – both of us play with others and I'm also in a long term relationship back home (Australia).

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Karl stared at the phone in his hand after flipping it closed. "Well this might be an interesting trip home after all," was the statement he made to the air in his empty living room. He had just finished up a three hour long, catch-up conversation with someone from his past. Someone he had shared more than just a dorm room and later a frat house double with at college. Much more. Much, much more.

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My wife was out of town visiting some friends for the weekend. It was Friday, and afternoon was turning into evening. With no plans I thought I'd stay late at work and try to catch up on a few things. About 6:00 a co-worker popped his head in my office and asked if I'd like to join him for a drink. We went to a neighborhood bar, ordered a couple drinks and spent most of the time bitching about those in charge at the office.

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It had all started innocently enough. We had just finished the gig when Bill came up and offered to buy us both a drink. To be honest I couldn't remember his name at first, but Julie my partner and vocalist, whispered it into my ear as Bill went to the bar. Julie's much better than me at remembering names, and has often got me out of embarrassing moments.

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It started out as just another Saturday night – me, Terry, Jezza and a few other lads going out into Luton for a few beers and a bit of fun. Then Terry mentioned some gay celebrity he'd seen mincing about on TV before he came out, and we were into the usual shared rant about how queers were taking over, and soon it'd be compulsory to take it up the arse.

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East Herkimer, New York, a town in the central part of New York State located just off the Thruway. A sleepy place that isn't much different today than it was back in 1973, when this story took place. *** It looked like every insect that was attracted to light was buzzing around the bare bulb that was supposed to illuminate the area around the door of the motel room - Room 9 in this case.

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Three months after I qualified as a sports physiotherapist/masseur, I started my own practice at home until I could find work with a sports club or association. I was enjoying a quiet coffee in the café and reading the daily paper when my mobile phone rang. A man's voice enquired about the possibility of getting a massage.

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I was worn out from a hard weeks work, a week of hard labor for a business owner not used to heavy lifting etc. can be a strain. I needed a massage to relieve the kinks, but where do you find a place in this small town. That evening I was surfing' the net looking for some nasty fun when I came across a site for m-for-m massage. It was right up my alley, I contacted them and set up an appointment for the following day. I was still soar and needed relief. 

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I had to chuckle when I heard the door open behind me seconds after I had sidled up to the trough-like urinal that ran along the wall of the men's room of the bar I had been killing time in. Maybe it comes with age, but for some reason I knew that I was going to have company, and I really didn't need to look to see who my bathroom companion was.

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Danny and I were making it in the kitchen, to be more precise, over the kitchen sink. He had it on him that he'd catch me when I was doing the washing up after a meal. I always dished up something for him when he visited.

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