Your erotic stories

"Wrap your legs round my back" he grunted as he fucked me. I did as he asked. It was a little better for the penetration was deeper, but I knew that I was still a long way from an orgasm. This hadn't happened in our twenty three year-long marriage until a few months ago, but this was now the third or fourth time my husband was having difficulty making me cum.

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It was early morning. The sun had just turned a darkened sky to a pale silvery gray. A heavy fog blanketed the forest-floor while a mist continued to float down on everything beneath the canopy. I doubted very much that there was another soul near me, for miles. That was good. That was exactly the way I wished it to be. Becoming lost in thought, I ran harder, faster.

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The water over the sandbar lapped at my legs just above my ankles. I stood remembering that day not so long after I came to the beach at the start of summer, that day Brenda and I kissed and held each other right here. Now it was the end of summer and tomorrow I would be leaving.

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It was a long deserted stretch of highway, miles and miles of nothing. Susan pulled off the interstate for gas. The gas station was there just off the off ramp, and a sign pointed to a town, but there was nothing else in sight. She pulled up to the pumps, and got out. A wave of hot dry dusty air rolled over her as she started filling her tank. Her attention was drawn to an old beat up truck, and a young couple arguing, just across from her.

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Brooke lay back on the bed and her hands drifted across smooth, warm skin. She grazed one of her thick, dark nipples and it stiffened. Goose bumps rose on lush breasts and damp labia began to swell. She wished Allison was stroking her body, making her wet, making Brooke cum.

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It was Halloween and I was excited. I love Halloween; more specifically, I love dressing up for Halloween. I typically spend all year planning my costume, leading up to the big night when I would go out with my husband and our friends for a night on the town. This year I had dressed up as a British policewoman, with a short black pencil skirt, knee length black boots, and a snug white dress shirt with a black and white checked cravat.

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Acting persons: Cecile Boneuve, 54, opera star; Eva Hordon, 19, student and fan Eva Hordon was a 19-year-old student. She had been born in Budapest but was now attending an exchange term at the university of Verona. Eva was a very pretty and sexy girl. With a size of 1,70 meters she was of medium height. She had a slim body, but was not bony at all. She was rather sportive and had all the curves necessary to have a very sexy appearance.

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My daughter Faith had a brooding look on her usually sunny face. When she returned home from college for winter break, her mood alternated from surly to morose. My efforts to engage her in conversation failed and I tried every approach I knew as a professional therapist but she refused to open up.

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The last habitable cottage before you come to the lighthouse at Ardnamurchan, the most westerly point on the Scottish mainland if not the whole of the ancient island of Britain, used to nestle to the southern side of an old, square tower. This tower may have once been a fortified block-house, such as one sees throughout the wilder parts of Scotland, where clan once fought against clan down through the years, until King fought against King for the final time and there were no more clans.

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Note from the Authoress: For any one who has read the Julie Journals they will know I always mention that my stories are a mixture of fact and fantasy. The content of this story is pure fantasy but the characters are fact. For that reason I have not included this as part of the Julie Journals. It is dedicated to a lovely intelligent woman and her partner who it has been a privilege to get to know.

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