Your erotic stories

"So what do you think then?" my wife asked me. "I'm not sure. I'm don't think I'm entirely happy with the thought of another man screwing the woman I love." I replied. We were cuddling in bed having just had one of the oddest conversations in our married life so far. Cassie, my wife of the last 4 years, had initiated a discussion about fantasies by asking me if I had any unfulfilled ones.

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I have to admit to a stomach full of knots as I stepped off the elevator glancing up and down the hall to see which way Suite 315 was. This wasn't to be any kind of normal night and I was really second guessing why I had agreed to the invitation. It sounded pretty cool up until that moment, but I can honestly say I found myself nervous as hell as I wandered down the hall towards the door that would open up to a night I never believed I'd experience anything like.

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Mark lay on his back, naked on the bed. The hotel room was quiet, dimly lit. My wife Jan, was naked as well as she sat next to Mark. She looked into my eyes and smiled and then turned to Mark and straddled him. She reached around behind her and guided his hard cock to her pussy. I was hard as a rock. Jan settled back a little and took only the tip at first. As Mark entered her more fully, Jan's eye's flashed open and she drew a deep breath.

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"I sure hope the weather holds," I commented, to no one in particular, even though my wife, Erin, was the only other person in the car. "The weatherman said it was supposed to storm around six this evening." "Yeah, well, he could be wrong." Erin voiced her mistrust of weathermen in general. "It's so overcast. If we get stuck in this storm, we'll be really screwed. I think we're about there. "

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"Wahay!" A course Geordie voice shouted as I heard someone wolf-whistle me, "Careful you don't show us your stocking tops; sweetheart!" I had arrived home half an hour earlier after finishing a night shift at the hospital and as I was hanging some washing on the spinner in the garden my nurses' uniform had risen to mid thigh. I turned to scowl at the builders who were working on the new conservatory.

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The Forbidden Fantasies Resort, owned and operated by Jamir Antoine, is located deep in the mountains outside of Denver Colorado. Jamir, who stands 6 ft 2, is both intimidating and endearing to those who know him. Mocha colored with long flowing locs that hang to the middle of his back upon first glance would not be considered handsome but exudes a sexual charm that is undeniable.

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I'm a fifty-two year old guy on a long dreamed of sightseeing trip through the Scenic Byways of Oregon and Crater Lake. Then I'll head up the Coast highway into Washington State to see Mt. Rainier and Mt. St Helen's after which I'll catch a plane back to my home in North Carolina. I'm retired so time is not important at all. I rented the car in San Francisco and plan to return it up at the Seattle-Tacoma airport. (SeaTac)

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I was about to be naked when I met Adri for the first time. I'd agreed to pose for a life-drawing class she led in the little studio behind a rare print shop in Washington DC. She hadn't hired me, the owner of the shop had. I undressed behind a curtain, redundant, really considering that I would be spending the next two hours on display for a room full of strangers, but I felt more dignified unhooking my bra and stuffing my underwear into my handbag in private.

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If someone had told me that what had happened last weekend would have happened to me, I think I’d have laughed in their faces. I don’t really believe even now that that it actually did happen. First of all, I’m recently divorced from a childless marriage and on my own again with no ties or responsibilities. It might seem that I had a lot to look forward to, but really I was kind of depressed.

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You go to the fridge, dragging the door open, as the conversation continues loudly behind you. Laughter rings out over the clamor of the television and you draw four cold long-neck beers from the crisper, set them on the small silver tray you were given for your hostess duties this evening, and with a pop-pop-pop-pop the caps are all neatly removed and discarded. You brush down the leather skirt and adjust your corset before entering the living room again.

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