Your erotic stories

It started with a simple question. "What does swinging mean?" I asked. I sat at my computer on a Saturday morning wearing sweats and a wrinkled T-shirt. My husband, Bill, was reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. "What?" he asked, a surprised set of eyebrows poked over the top of the folded black and white page.

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We'd only lived in the neighbourhood a few weeks, so when I first saw him mowing the lawn as I pulled into the driveway, I thought it might have been my own mistake. But no, I checked the house number, and I saw my wife's car in the other parking spot, so I knew I was in the right place. I shrugged and got out of the car. I reached back in for my briefcase, and then watched the young man mowing our lawn as I walked to the front door.

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I had been working at the store for a couple of months now. While I liked what I was doing – selling wine – overall I felt a bit disappointed. This was not where I saw myself as I turned another birthday. It's hard chasing your dreams, and it's hard when you have to take a job you don't really care for just for the money. But such is life sometimes.

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I hadn't intended to work late that night... I knew you had made plans to go out with a friend of yours. When I arrived home, you were already sitting in the living room, dressed and ready to go. You just smiled at me with a shake of your head. "Kind of figured you'd end up being late. Go take a shower, I'll get something out for you, ok?," You said with a sigh, getting off the couch, though you were still working on your tie. You always had trouble with those...

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Last weekend my girlfriend Tina suggested that we go dancing at this new club she heard about. Now Tina is a very hot chick and loves to dance. I love to dance too and said sure, why not. She told me she wanted this to be really special and darted into the bedroom saying she would pick some things out for me to wear that would really turn her on.

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"May I join you?" I looked up from my book, slightly surprised. I had come to the coffee shop-slash-bookstore during my lunch hour for a brief respite from the stress of the office, and I hadn't anticipated being interrupted. Glancing around, I saw that there were plenty of empty seats around.

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"You should grow that moustache again Burt," Bush said to his friend, his voice full of friendly sarcasm, "They make a nice flavor saver when licking cooze." "You would know Bush," Burt joined in with his friend's banter. Burt smiled as he drove their pick up truck, his mind reminiscing to the origin of his nickname. On a fishing trip once, he skipped shaving for a whole week.

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We had been married for only a couple of years, and our sex life had pretty much died off. We were at the point where in a good year we would maybe fuck 3 or 4 times. The rest of the time things were pretty much "dead in Bed". When we did fuck it was fantastic. Most of the other aspects of our relationship were good. We definitely enjoyed our time together, and we missed each other when we were apart. But the lack of sex overshadowed everything.

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The day was beautiful, the sun taking shelter behind the randomly passing clouds, a slight breeze whispering through the leaves of the trees, and the onset of summer providing a sweet afternoon for a country picnic. There, on blankets, sat the five close friends. College was out for the summer, this was a day to enjoy.

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I discovered very early in my life that I am an inveterate voyeur. My most fulfilling, most erotic sexual experiences have always involved watching. Watching movies. Watching television. Watching on the Internet. Even watching in my minds eye as I read stories. Naturally, I simply enjoy watching women as they go about their daily activities.

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