Your erotic stories

"You could have at least waited for him to come off the operating table." "I couldn't . . . (huff) . . . help it . . . (puff). I think we may have overimplanted the scent. Come over here and . . ." "My God, I think you're right. God, god, finish with it. I must . . . as well. And we can see how well he can take an enhanced size. You're no . . ."

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This is the story of the first and only man I've been with sexually. I had reached early middle age and found myself horny all the time and up late jacking off to internet porn. I especially found myself watching a lot of blow job scenes. I don't get enough or very good head from the wife, and I would occasionally cruise craigslist thinking jeez it would be easy to get a guy to give me an NSA blowjob.

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I just joined and wrote this story in a few minutes. Please enjoy it. * I woke up around ten in the morning like I usually do and got up to go get my morning shower. I cast a quick glance at myself in the bathroom mirror and stepped into the hot water from the showerhead. I stood under the falling water and remembered the dream I had woken up from this morning. Lisa, the hottest girl at my job, was blowing me, begging me to cum all over her face. I reached down and gripped my already growing cock in one hand, gently jerking it as I thought about maybe giving myself a happy ending to the dream I had been having.

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"I'm sorry, what was that you just said, Mrs. Pettington?" What a tiresome woman. I had just now been distracted from listening to her by the way she snapped her fingers at Kisula and then gave him a distasteful look when he refilled her coffee cup. "I said, Mr. Woolston, that I hardly think we need worry about these rumblings from the tribal huts. England has held this protectorate in Tanzania since the war, and we will do so as long as the London cafés need their coffee."

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It had become a regular occurrence. Roy would visit on Saturday morning, if his sister did not spend the night, and get his cock sucked and fuck my ass. At times it was still very exciting but all to often it seemed that we just went through the motions, meeting out of habit more than anything.

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On the hottest, steamiest night of the summer in the big city, I almost met my Maker. I was an undercover cop working for the vice squad, about to observe and take part in a drug transaction outside the Frisky Bar, a gay strip joint in a seedy part of town.

Moving down the alley closer to the drug buy, I moved out of sight of my partner (a mistake), and passing behind a dumpster, I saw the perp and his customer.

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So it was New Years eve, the time to party, to celebrate, and with any bit of luck, get laid. And in the past I've had absolutely no problems getting laid on New Years Eve. Sometimes it was because I was lucky, others it was because I lowered my standards, or alcohol lowered them and I got laid. In either case my main goal of having sex has been accomplished on NYE since I turned 18, and I'm now 29. So I guess I am at least guaranteed to get laid once a year.

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I had just closed escrow on a house I found in Manhattan Beach, a better part of Los Angeles County than my old digs--closer to the beach. I spent the day moving in my furniture, and as the sun went down, to celebrate I drove to a restaurant I saw on Sepulveda Boulevard. I sat at the bar and ordered a Knob Creek and soda--a little 100 proof whiskey was just what I needed. 

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One night I was hanging out with my good friend Rich. Rich was a big guy, 6'4" about 240, big Nordic looking guy. We were hanging out listening to music, just bullshitting, drinking beers and smoking weed. About 1:30 in the morning we started to get drowsy. I didn't really want to see him drive home, we were loopy enough to be an issue if a cop pulled him over.

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Danny was killing time at the one and only shopping mall in his little town, as he did most Saturdays afternoons, when he noticed the blonde muffin. He felt the familiar ache in his groin, in his heart and in his brain as his eyes drank in the stranger's beauty. This guy was born to induce lust; he was the kind of man that always got Danny's pulse racing: big-boned, blonde and beefy with down-home looks on an open, honest face.

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