Your erotic stories

Angelica Bowman looked around for her boyfriend, Stewart. She couldn't find him anywhere in the large, sprawling mansion. She wanted to have fun at her company Christmas party, but that wouldn't exactly be easy without her boyfriend to reassure her. She had only been with Markham Industries for a few months and she didn't know most of her co-workers very well. She liked the people she did know, but Angelica tended to keep to herself.

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‘Dave won’t be home until four-thirty,’ she thought as she rinsed the soapy lather from her body. She dried and spent some time on her hair, making it look the way I liked, tied up off the shoulder. She applied her make-up and dabbed some Obsession perfume on her pulse points. ‘That should do it. Now, what shall I wear,’ she mused. She opened her wardrobe door and chose a light summer frock that was almost transparent when lit from behind. ‘Yes, perfect’.

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There's something about reading other people's stories, I keep thinking is that real, did they really do that? It's so much hotter to read something that really happened. So I thought why not tell one of my own true stories. It happened last Christmas, after a friend's wedding. It was late and the other guests were mostly gone. We'd stayed up drinking with some Army officers, in no hurry to get back to our room in the hotel.

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"Shut UP!" Marcy realized she was making a mistake as soon as she said it, but a whole semester's worth of pent-up frustration and irritation just bubbled out of her mouth and she couldn't stop it anymore. "God, I am so sick of you telling me how fucking great you are! 'Oh, I'm so hot.' 'Oh, I totally had that guy eating out of my hand.' 'Oh, don't you love how this outfit looks on me?' 'Oh, I could have any man I want.' You are such a vain, stuck-up, self-obsessed...bitch!"

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The music was deafeningly loud; strobes flashed incessantly giving the otherwise dark room a surreal ambiance. My hips gyrated; my feet, clad in black stilettos, moved to an ethereal metallic 'techno' beat. My hands roamed oh so suggestively over my body and lingered as my finger tips cupped and caressed my breasts through a black leather top -- no more than a bra, really; not stitched, but riveted.

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It was supposed to be a second honeymoon for my wife and me celebrating the anniversary of our reconciliation. The resort, located in Cancun, was adults only and all inclusive. It had several pools, bars and restaurants as well as its own private beach. What we didn't know was that most of the couples there were swingers.

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My birthday was today. So my wife, Alison, kept bugging me. "What do you want this year, you know, in the bedroom?" You see every year, since we got married, I get a special treat from her. In addition to the regular stuff, I can request something a little kinky. So this year, I decided I'd finally ask her for something I've wanted for a long time. I told her that I wanted to eat her creampie.

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Delighted is the word I would use to describe how I felt when Lena and Jake invited me to their house for an afternoon of swimming and reminiscing. We'd been neighbors and friends for over twelve years when, as a fiercely ambitious career woman, I'd left Dallas for a job in Raleigh, North Carolina. Even though I lived in another city and state, I kept in close touch with Lena, and sometimes Jake, too, through phone calls and email. I was back in Dallas on business for a week.

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John and I had only been dating for a couple months so I was surprised when he asked if I wanted to go with him to visit his brother in Boston. We were at that weird point in a relationship when things are just on the verge of going deeper. There had not been any talk about whether we were exclusive or not, but I wasn’t dating anyone else and did not have any desire to do so. Just a week earlier a coworker asked me out and I turned him down because of John so I thought I was ready for something more, even if I did find the thought of getting serious scary.

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Jan and I had been to this club on a few occasions but were still new to the swinging scene and clubs of this nature, so we were nervous but excited. The night had been billed as a casino night with lots of references to Ian Fleming's Bond and all the trappings associated with 007. So we dressed accordingly; I myself in full tuxedo and Jan in her high heels, full length double side split super-low cut evening dress and only sheer black hold-ups underneath.

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