Your erotic stories

After my wonderful weekend with David in New York and then my surprise adventure with Jill and Randy in Dallas, I settled into my usual routine. Get the boys off to school and then head for the health club and another vigorous workout. Then I would return home, take a shower and settle down in front of the computer to enjoy reading sex stories on Literotica.

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Gerri killed the engine on her bass boat and glided into a cove sighing with contentment. Looking around at the morning mist rising from the lake she couldn't think of anywhere she would rather be or anything else she would rather be doing. As the boat slowed to a near stop she rose from the helm and slid into her bass seat taking up her rod and engaging the foot controlled trolling motor.

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It's Valentine's night. I should be out with some hot guy, some hot guy that'll take me out to that cozy little Italian joint I like and buy us an overpriced bottle of really good Cabernet Sauvignon so I can get completely blitzed, lose my inhibitions and let him take me home and screw me every which possible way, I was thinking.

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Katie's POV: I was numb, completely and utterly numb. I could no longer feel my body, my mind or my heart. The man I'd been seeing for almost three years broke up with me two days before Christmas. I thought he was 'the one.'

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I was emptying the dishwasher when Amy knocked at the back door. 'It's open,' I yelled. Amy was our next door neighbor. She'd been a friend of our family's for five years, and she and my mom were particularly close. Amy had really been there for her when my parents got divorced and my dad moved out. She was always dropping by. She brightened up the place.

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I'd had it with Mason. His affairs, one right after the other, had begun to push me over the edge. My favorite decorator, on her knees in my new den with his penis in her mouth, was the straw that broke the camel's back. That night in our bedroom, I laid down the law. "We will not divorce for the sake of our child. You and I will sleep in separate wings of this house.

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It is the little things that capture the imagination. The devil - the horny little devil - is in the detail. My eye is always drawn to the smaller picture. You can keep your supermodel looks and your Harvard MBAs, I'm far more likely to be drawn to a nicely turned ankle, the shape of a bra through a top, or a skirt curving neatly and snugly around an ass.

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The lady I'll call Alice gripped my hair and screamed out a string of profanities that would make a sailor blush as her body shuddered in the climactic release of orgasmic passion. I was on kneeling on a pillow beside her bed. Another pillow had been placed under her hips to put her pussy in a more perfect position as I worked my magic on her.

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Sarah, getting dressed for work in her lawyer blues, decided life was not over. Just because her husband decided, at 35, that the priesthood was his real calling in life, why should her life be over? She hadn't had intercourse in three months and, while she knew about fellatio and cunnilingus, those experiences were really distant memories.

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The man interviewing me was a good looking man. Not a gorgeous man, but a good looking man. His musculature showed he worked out, but still he carried about ten pounds more than his ideal weight. Brown hair, a couple of inches shy of six feet, good nose, thin lips. He did have beautiful blue eyes.

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