Your erotic stories

I have never really adjusted to the intense thrill of rotating my practically naked hips in front of a woman staring avidly at my hard eight inch cock, damp in the piss hole by now, her eyes riveted on it as it swayed there, an inch or so from her lips. The heavy beat of Ravel made me surge slowly but lewdly, the moment capturing me as much as her, and I knew she would give me the grand finish to my act when her tongue flicked out toward it.

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There were three generations of blondes occupying the table at the food court in the mall I had recently begun to manage. I had seen them before, perhaps each Saturday for about a month now. With each visit they captured more of my curiosity. It didn't hurt that they ranged, in order, from bubbly and precious, to perky and pretty, to downright seductively sexy. The youngest was no more than a few months old, I estimated, a jolly pink-faced infant being lovingly bounced on the knees of her mom.

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Ryan lay on his bed, one arm slung across his eyes, his other hand, slowly stroking the bulge that twitched through the cloth of his skimpy running shorts as he thought of her. She was his latest obsession, and she was also proving to be his greatest challenge. He sighed, frustrated, and slung his legs off the bed to sit on its edge, his chin cupped thoughtfully in his young hands as he watched the dust motes dancing in the sunlight that streamed in through the open window.

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It might have been the eleventeenth of Octembruary for old Jack. At 76 he sat in his living room looking out through the panoramic window for his carer, a younger woman of 32 who would soon be there to ensure that he was washed and properly dressed. What was it she had said, something about it being a special day today? He had no idea, one day being no different from the next or last. She had been coming to see to him for more than four years now and he always welcomed her.

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