Your erotic stories

I had always felt comfortable when around other guys. Secure in my sexuality, I knew I was only into women. Confident with my body and size, I had never been embarrassed in the locker room or when changing around guys. I kept myself in good shape: decent six-pack abs, toned arms ... and a 7" cock with just the right amount of girth. I kept my pubes shaved close to make it look even bigger.

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“Okay guys. It’s time to finish what you’re doing and start tidying up.” I called to the six young guys in my decorating class. “Conner, I’m going to the staff room to get changed, so you’re in charge. No messing around, you lot! I need to be out of here in 30 minutes.” I’m a part-time leader for a Community Programme. The kids (usually 18 to 20 year olds) come to us for six months at a time to learn basic skills like joinery, brick laying, mechanics, or, in my case decorating.

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One day I bring you home to my place and introduce you to my friend Liz. She has just showered and still has a little water dripping off her hair and down her chest and into her gown. We sit down on the couch and chat for a bit while Liz goes and gets ready in the bathroom. While she is in the bathroom, I tell you all about the day me and Liz had together.

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At fifty years old I consider myself to be in pretty good shape. With my wife, Nancy, being in the military she has to continually work out to stay in shape, and that tends to have a certain amount of carryover. I mean, I can't exactly build a workout room in the house with all that equipment and not feel guilty if I don't it. So, use it I do, keeping my 6' frame down to a hundred eighty-five pounds and in pretty good trim.

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"Carly!" Gina had never learned any other way to start a phone conversation than with an exclamation point "Hey, guess who's going to be back in town tonight?" That could only be the third member of our little band of confidants, Maryanne. The three of us had always been tight, all through high school. We had other friends, but we three shared the really close in feelings and stuff.

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One Tuesday morning, Linda Harris, a thirty-five year old mother of two, entered her kitchen with the intention of making herself some breakfast. Filling up the kettle with water, she placed it on the stove and took out her favourite teacup from beside the counter. It was another sunny morning; from here she had a good view of her suburban backyard, seeing her previously washed blankets flutter on the clothesline from where she had hung them. The clock on the kitchen wall announced the time as 8:24PM.

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Marcie's head flew up and down over my cock, licking the sides like they were coated in chocolate. Now, there was nothing unusual about Marcie giving me a blow job, nor was there anything unusual about her enjoying it. But there was something more there today. An urgency to her work that raised a flag that something was up.

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It's sometimes amazing how innocent little meetings just turn out to be life's big enjoyments. I'm Al and my wife's name is Liz and this is our story. We've been blessed with an amazing financial windfall when the investment's our folks gave to us kept doubling and splitting giving us enough money so that at the ripe old age of thirty five we were able to not have to work to make ends meet.

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It was probably the most difficult position I could be in. Here I was sitting in the same room as my girlfriend and my ex-wife talking and drinking. We had always been on good terms, but this might be taking things too far. We were together for the kid's. It was my oldest daughters continuance to high school, and we were having a small family get together. Things were going fine.

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Alyssa woke with a start and clutched the covers around her. Gazing around the room, she quickly relaxed, although the erotic dream she had experienced left her groin hot and pulsing with wetness. She shivered slightly and turned on her side, facing the softly snoring lump in the covers that was her boyfriend. She stared at his steadily breathing form for several seconds, wondering if she should wake him for a little midnight rendezvous.

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