Your erotic stories

Isobel and Armand would be amused if they knew that I had been seeing a 'shrink'. They always used to think me such a strait-laced, even bourgeois little girl: a perfect English rose. But they shouldn't be so surprised because it was they who set me on the path that led to Dr Damon's door. And often, as I'm lying on his couch, sharing with him my innermost feelings about life and love and relating to him my dreams and fantasies, I often say a silent prayer of thanks to them.

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"Look, they really are the same, isn't that cool?" Listening from the hallway, I could hear Maya's voice in the bathroom with my girlfriend, Lyn. I stopped cold and listened as once again Maya was comparing her breasts with Lyn's. The bathroom door was not closed and I could just see, through the space between the door and the frame, the sweet curve of Maya's breasts.

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There was a chill in the air as we got into the car, but the sun was already burning off the early morning dew, and the low lying mist seemed to give the impression that even the clouds were still sleeping in the fields. 'It's going to be a hot day,' I said. 'In more ways than one,' he laughed, setting a whole host of butterflies into flight in my stomach.

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"Hey Major Christen." I looked up as I heard my name, and tried not to grin as I saw the two girls waving at me. I was sitting in the BX food court eating an ice cream cone on my lunch break, just relaxing, and I waved back to them. They walked over and I took the time to look at the two of them.

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Mandy was sitting on her beautiful white leather sofa and was deep in conversation with her long time friend Helen, and as usual she was talking about, or rather moaning about, the unsatisfactory state of her sex life. "The problem is that Jake just isn't interested anymore, well, not really, anyway – he's too bloody busy trying to earn more fucking money! Yes, I know he performs his duty as they say, but a bog standard shag twice a week just doesn't do it for me, you know?"

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By the time the clock struck midnight, most of the 'casual' guests were long gone, having delivered their housewarming gifts, had a few snacks and drinks, and were probably already in bed. Not everybody had left though. I adjusted my shirt and gazed around the living room. Nick was sprawled on the couch, a gin and tonic in his hand, watching the TV. Geri and Peter were sitting in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka, while my wife Samantha was discussing something with Connor and Caitlin. Anna was in the bathroom and Phillip was out back smoking a cigarette.

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As Larry sat across from the man on the couch, he couldn't believe that he was doing this, or that something like this was possible. He has heard about it through a friend over a week ago, and had spent many long hours on email and the phone to finally arrange this meeting. Bill, the man across from him, leaned forward and looked Larry in the eye.

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As Jenny rolled lazily onto her back she could still, with each breath, sense the sweet saltiness of Mike's semen and the tang of his after-shave that lingered about the satin sheets and pillows of her rumpled bed. It had been a wonderful weekend that had seemed to last forever and it had all begun with a chance encounter in the super-market.

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The steaming water hit my skin, rinsing away the sweat and the stress from the work-week. I'd started my Friday night workouts a year ago after breaking up with my girlfriend, and they've become a tradition. The gym's quiet in the evenings, letting me take my time as I work myself to exhaustion, leaving me feeling light-headed and refreshed - and more than a little horny, too. Working my muscles always leaves me feeling like that, and I enjoy stretching it out before I head home to jerk off.

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It started on a mate's stag night/bachelor party, - whatever you know a bloke's traditional booze-up before his wedding as. A crowd of us hit the town, crawled the bars and eventually ended up at a lapdancing club, ahem, as you do. . . A good time was had by all, plenty of dances were bought, and the general agreement was what goes on the stag, stays on the stag.

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