Your erotic stories

All the time I was standing out on the balcony of Colleen Addison's house fourteen miles south of Athens, in Voula, overlooking Greece's Miroon Sea, and engaging in chit chat with her and the man who was introduced to me merely as Sam from the Economic Section, I kept thinking that I knew him from someplace but couldn't place him.

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My red dress looked smashing on my chocolate coloured body. I pinned my curly long hair up and applied just a bit of fiery red hot lipstick to my lips. I love the way the colour red added a golden tone to my ebony body. My breasts are full as well as my ass. I prided myself on having a nice ass and tits. My narrow waist line only made my hour glass figured defined and sensuous. Mario came up from behind and started to fondle my breast.

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There I was stretched out naked on my bed, fisting the bone again. My boyfriend Andy had taken a job and moved to Rome so we decided that rather than keep something going we should just break up. We'd been together for a while and I wasn't in the mood yet to start seeing other men. But I'd been horny as hell. So, for now, I was again testing the proposition that at times a man's fist could be his best friend.

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It was a warm sunny Sunday afternoon, I was sat at home on my own, bored, nothing on TV. I decided now would be a good time to cruise around the local park to see if I could find myself a horny stud. I got into my car and took the short 10 minute journey to the parking lot at the park.

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Chapter One: What ever happened to... It was something that had been on my mind for much of the summer, but I hadn't mentioned it to my son until the day he was heading off to college. I tried to be as casual and distant as possible when I broached the subject while we drove out to the University of Buffalo, where he would be starting his freshman year of college, not wanting to expose my more than casual interest.

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Les, my closest friend now that Mike has been killed in Iraq, sits quietly on the couch listening intently as I tell him about my explorations with Mike in that scout tent so many years before. How our relationship had grown beyond experimentation. How our experiences had left me shaken, doubtful about my sexuality, but oh so excited. About how I believed that I had "loved" Mike in a way that was very close to the love I had felt for women.

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I was getting ready for a trip to Washington on business, for work when Bill, a guy I didn't like at all, said at coffee, "If you are in D.C. you have got to go to the Iron Rod." "The what?" I asked, barely listening since all the guy did was bullshit. "The Iron Rod is the best pick-up bar in Washington. You are literally guaranteed to get fucked," he explained.

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The wall above the drapes was faintly lit by a gray light. I figured it was close to dawn. The room was dark and quiet. Getting up. I found my way to the bathroom. The short hall was lighted by a strip of muted light leaking under the hotel room door. I closed the bathroom door and plunged into total darkness.. Fumblingly, I found the light switch, flipped it, and instantly blinded myself.

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I was working from home today, when the doorbell rang. It was Gary, my son's friend from the local community college they both attended. "Hi Gary, Bobby's not home right now, but I expect him shortly," I said. "You are welcome to wait for him." "I think I will do that Mr. Thomas, thanks," Gary replied to me.

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I am the world’s greatest gigolo. Well, at least I was the world’s greatest gigolo. My clientele were usually wealthy women with husbands who rarely spent two seconds at home, much less tended to the raging sexual desires of their wives.

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