Your erotic stories

I can still see it in high def, up close and personal; the image is engraved on my brain. The bald, glistening vulva of a teenage girl — a squirming, moaning teenage girl, knees up — is not to be forgotten. The best night of my life was the night my sister had a slumber party. To save money during my last year of college, I moved back in with my parents and commuted from their home in a Boston suburb.

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I'm a well to do 56 year old professional. My home is very nice and nearly paid for. I'm not married anymore, but not by choice. My wife of 32 years, Sherry, was in the wrong place at the wrong time while riding her motorcycle out in the countryside one day. Some kids came hauling-ass out of a grove and pulled right across her path. Thankfully, she died instantly in the accident. I miss her company very much, but I'm not a lonely kind of guy.

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In his novel "I Will Fear No Evil," One of Heinlein's female characters remarks that, until a woman has been in bed with two men who love and trust one another as much as they love and trust her, she's still got "One virginity to go, and an important one." When I first read this as a teenager, I felt a visceral response. Yes, I thought to myself with deep conviction, that's for me!

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Amy looked at the card in her hand. A dentist's appointment, that wasn't going to be good. It didn't seem to matter how well she brushed her teeth, she always seemed to manage to need to have some sort of work done that required a filling. And that meant a needle. She hated needles of any sort and when they were putting them in her mouth, all she wanted to do was scream, but couldn't.

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The Mediterranean sun was reaching its noon heat when the resort owners finally left their rooms on the top tier of the three floors surrounding the pool centred courtyard. As they stood looking down on the men, women, and teenage girls below they couldn't resist a thrill of excitement.

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Introduction: My wife and I are what I would refer to as "soft core" swingers. We do not belong to any swinging group we just prefer just to meet singles or couples, get to know them and then see what occurs. We do not think that belonging to a swinging club is bad, it is just not our thing. We like to be a little more secretive and stay to ourselves when we play.

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A muttered curse bounced off the interior walls of the SUV. Gail Steelport took a deep breath, hit the steering wheel of her 2000 Suburban, and let another vile explanative fall from her usually smiling lips. The gauge didn't lie, and neither did the sound of an engine trying to turn over, but failing to do so. Gail looked around; her headlights aided her in determining that she had pulled off to the side of the road, far enough that no one -- who was paying attention -- would run into her. Rain pelted the window, as Gail dug through her purse.

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I always thought that the trouble with my friend Lacey was that she was so gullible. As much as I hate stereotypes Lacey is quite simply one stupid dumb blonde. Imagine this, a tall six foot statuesque girl, with curves in ALL the right places, firm but bouncy tits, a rounded ass that sways not wobbles when she walks, and that wonderful not quite honest tint to her skin.

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PRELUDE The four divorced women were gathered at Joan's house for an afternoon of Bridge. It had become a ritual that each Wednesday they would play cards in the morning, have lunch and then enjoy sex with each other. Each week they rotated the location so that each woman had an opportunity to host the group.

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The car drove along the tree-lined lane to a house overlooking a lake. It was a large house with several levels of decks at the rear. "It's a beautiful house, Tiff," Ashley said, taking in the beautiful flowers that were expertly laid out in the lavish gardens. "Yes, it is. Mike is a very successful lawyer here. He has been my client for about two years now," Tiffany, the taller blonde answered.

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