Your erotic stories

I have been flirting with Kevin for a few months now. I have a burning desire to get a look at the cock that makes such a gorgeous bulge in his tight jeans. I'd love to get that thing into my mouth and see if I can get a few good reactions from him. I like to get a man off. I love it when they are satisfied and shoot a big warm load down my throat, or wherever they wish to put it. There is just one problem; I can't get him to allow me to give it a go.

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The day had been very long and tedious. Nothing out of the ordinary, not any birthday, anniversary or holiday. So Ali was very pleasantly surprised as her lover opened the door as she tried to gain entry to their home. Even more so as he took the key from her hand, placed it back in her purse, which he then tossed onto the sofa. Then leaning over, he kissed her cheek and scooped her up to her surprised delight while whispering, “Relax my love, and trust me.”

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I'm a 36yr-old male, fit, healthy & very happily married to a lovely, warm, gorgeous sexy woman. You may have guessed what's coming next- I'm also cock curious! I'm on a business trip to Amsterdam, and the meetings are finished ahead of schedule, with conclusions acceptable to all parties.

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Chapter 1 "You drive a hard bargain," I said, taking a long sip of my drink. "I saved your butt on this one and you know it," Christine said. "It's time to pay up." Christine and I worked for the same bank. She was the branch manager at a location on the opposite side of town from my bank, where I served as an assistant branch manager. We went through orientation together and had remained friends for the past five years.

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They had inherited their hair, eyes, body and figure from their mother. Only their face showed a glimpse of the father leaving no doubt as to their parentage. They not only looked alike but they wore their hair in the same style and donned identical clothes. Their voice and mannerism were also alike.

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The hum from the washing machines was a chorus of white noise drowning out the street sounds, the wail of sirens in the distance, the crazy-looking homeless man shouting profanities two doors up the sidewalk and the god-awful street rapper free-styling just outside the door of the 50 Cent Washeteria.

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Trying to keep the band together had been a right pain. With constant changes of personnel it was proving an impossible task. We'd just get the band fully rehearsed, when the singer would leave, or the drummer, or the keyboard player, and then we would have to start from scratch all over again. I was at the point of giving it all up when I was approached by Mark, who offered to manage and promote the band.

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The e-mail was brief: Please call George and Phoebe. I showed it to Gill. “Will you ring or shall I?” I asked. “Doesn’t matter.” she replied. “You call and I’ll join in on the extension if necessary.” “Sound good, do you reckon?” “It has been so far.”

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Pat dressed up for Halloween like I had never seen. She was a cross between a sexy Hooter’s cheerleader and a 100% slut. Starting from the bottom of her lovely legs, she had on a pair of white sneakers; her legs were bare with just a tan and so smooth and toned. The cheerleader shirt was Hooter’s orange and white and it was shorter than any cheerleader’s skirt I’d even seen.

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Hands and feet tied to the bed, I am completely vulnerable as I watch him approach with a blindfold. He places it over my eyes; the anticipation tortures me more than the restraints. I feel his tongue lick at the tip of my nipple, at the underside of my breast, and then slide along my ribs.

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