Your erotic stories

Everyone in this story is over eighteen. It seeks to explore lesbian masochism, which I know exists. * It was my husband's fault. Really. Mike was a horny bastard, and something of a voyeur. And that was how he lost me – simple as that. We used to go to a lot of parties, with other young married couples, many of us fancying each other's partners like mad. Nothing unusual in that, I suppose.

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It was several months after my wedding that my growing but still largely unconscious suspicions finally emerged into a realization: I had a rival for my husband's affections. It was surprising, given how grateful he had seemed—after all, Eric had won a bride almost half his age—but I knew that he was possessed of a powerful sex drive and a taste for novelty and adventure.

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Megan and Jennifer had met on the first day of school, and had instantly become friends. They were both in their mid 20’s and were going to a Technical school to learn computers. On the first day of school Megan had come to her class for Information Technology. She had been afraid she would find all the other students were straight out of high school and they would think she was old.

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"Chrissie Christianson looks pleased with herself," Amy muttered into my ear, motioning her head towards the dance floor. I turned in my chair, looking for the petite blonde cheerleader. Grimacing, I spotted her. "Do you think she could have flaunted a little more of her body in that dress?" I kidded, smiling. "Look who she's with," Amy said pointedly, motioning again.

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Little Devil Chastity was dressed like a cheap whore. Short, black semi-sheer mini-skirt. Braless, she wore a too tight and too small, neon pink tube top that barely contained her boobs. Cheap costume jewelry and knee high faux leather black boots. Poofy blonde hair, overdone make-up and strong perfume. And underneath, lace, red crotchless panties. It made her feel like a slut. It made her feel liberated. It made her feel excited.

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It had been six months since Katie left to go back to South America. Six long months without anyone to play with – six months of frustration with only my own fingers to satisfy my sensitive nipples. – And now, back in my apartment, dressed in only a white cotton top and g-string, I rubbed my aching buds back and forth through the material, releasing my pent up and frustrated feelings.

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This is a retelling of an experience a very good friend of mine (I'll call her Judith) had 2 years ago before she met the fella that she recently married. I have her permission to retell the story so long as I did not use her name or the names of anyone else connected to this. Her experience was so good that I don't need to embellish it in any way. So here goes ....

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Jenna watched as Lilly pulled her t-shirt over her breasts. B Cups, she thought to herself. Lilly smoothed out the wrinkles and pulled on her jeans. Jenna lay quietly, watching intently from the bed. Lilly thought she was still sleeping. Jenna watched as Lilly's pert breasts bounced as she crossed the room, leaning over slightly. Jenna caught a glimpse of what was down her t-shirt, making her bite her lips with anticipation.

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He woke her up at a quarter to five in the morning. The sun hadn't risen yet, and in the darkness of their bedroom he slid down beneath the sheets and parted her thighs, and woke her with long, probing licks. She grew wet almost immediately, and he moved over her, slid himself inside her.

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Susan enjoyed her job at the university. It was her first since qualifying. The others she worked with were good and knowledgeable which meant that she learnt a lot of good practical tips. Her job was not in the academic field, she was a simple gardener, well a landscape gardener to be precise. The university had beautiful gardens and employed a team of workers to keep them looking there best.

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