Your erotic stories

I hurried out of the building, my cock hard and dripping copious amounts of precum, staining the front of my slacks. I awkwardly attempted to cover myself with my briefcase as my mind raced. "Did that really just happen? Did one of the most powerful industrial giants just use me as his cumslut?" I hailed a taxi and offered a generous tip to get me to my hotel as quickly as possibly. Ten minutes later and $30 poorer, I was safely enclosed in my suite at the Hyatt.

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Last fall, when I was starting my graduate studies at NYU film school, I found myself sexually frustrated and unhappy with the guys I was meeting. The sex was OK, but nothing really special. I think that's kind of understandable because, after all, we were mostly all in our early 20s and not very experienced. Plus, if I was to be really honest, the guys I met (and I include myself here) were kind of immature and unworldly. We barely knew who we were, let alone capable of thoughtful, meaningful and satisfying sexual relationships.

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Sixty two year old Wallace Stone wasn't from Saratoga Springs, he was just passing through on business. When after dinner he walked through the park and stopped near the little stage where an angry young man was singing angry songs, mercifully without benefit of amplification. Most of the couple dozen or so folks who were around the performer listening didn't seem much more interested than Wallace was, but the salesman didn't care about them.

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In my life I have always been pretty conservative. I don’t stand out in a crowd and I don’t take risks. Your typical nice average guy – that’s me. At 31, I have done ok for myself. The only major thing missing from my life was a family. But I knew one day I would meet the girl of my dreams and that part of my life would also fall into place. At least so I thought.

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They say you never forget your first time. Although it's been nearly 20 years, I can still remember it well. It was January of 99 and I had just turned 18. 

My parents went out of town to celebrate their anniversary for the weekend, and that meant one thing for me. Busting as many nuts as I could.

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I was on business in the Fire Island area of New York. Checking into a small motel I was surprised to see the small, old, Jewish-looking man behind the counter, in effect, checking me out. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or get annoyed by his eyeing me and smiling at me in what could only be described as a leering way.

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All comments or criticism welcome. * I had just settled onto the couch to watch some television when the phone rang. "You available?" a familiar voice asked. "Yes." "I'll be there in 20 minutes." "I'll leave the door unlocked, I'm going to jump in the sho--."

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Aaron looked at me with a mixture of shock and pure heat. I don’t think he was expecting me to actually take him up on his offer. I don’t know, maybe he figured I was really into the submissive stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely loved it, but I wasn’t going to be his pushover. And I was damn sure going to give him the same treatment he gave me.

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Chapter One- Luann Luann watched the white, fluffy flakes as they filtered through her view in the blinds. It had been snowing since early morning and she was happy to be inside the warmth of Ryan’s flower shop. Her thick mock turtleneck and flannel shirt kept her warm on the outside, but inside she needed nothing extra to warm her; she was already burning with desire.

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It started innocently enough: We were sitting in his living room drinking wine and Danny was telling me about his high school wrestling team and how he won forty-eight straight matches. His eyes wore a glazed-over expression as he talked about his glory days. "...and out of those forty-eight matches, I pinned thirty-one of my opponents in under a minute in the first round!" he declared, triumphantly.

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