Your erotic stories

Jordan was being tortured. It was the day before Valentine's and Glen was torturing her with her gift. He wasn't torturing her with intrigue and suspense. On the contrary, she knew exactly what she was getting. She had known for a long time, and he had purchased it a long time ago. It arrived a full two weeks before Valentine's Day. But rather than give it to her, he taunted her with it. He constantly flaunted it in front of her but wouldn't let her have it.

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Just a few weeks ago, my next door neighbor held a party to celebrate the college graduation of their son, Alex. Alex and his family had been my neighbor for many years and so my wife and I were invited. The party began at 7pm and my wife and I walked over around 8pm. The hosts had a bar set up on their back patio and a professional bartender was mixing and serving guest.

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Christian's heart hammered when he laid eyes on the seductive enchantress who magically appeared in front of his eyes over a year ago as he was tossing back drinks with friends. Her visage was that of an angel. Certainly no mere mortal had ever been so captivating. Her wide smoky green eyes cast an intense sensation in his cock as her gaze fell upon him. He was instantly obsessed with her. Since that moment she'd been the subject of insatiable prurient curiosity.

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In eighteenth century English society it was even more difficult for a girl to advance above her station than it was for a young man. Without the proper connections and lineage it was almost impossible for even the most attractive of young girls to marry a man who could give her a life of comfort. Seeing no other way around this dilemma, some parents took the grave risk of sending their daughters to India, where the men who survived the climate and the competition were seeking wives as gorgeous as the silks and gems they carried home as spoils. One of these girls was named Fanny Chamberlain.

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The bustling casino hummed with the sounds of success and Lou, the general manager, grinned as he walked past row after row of slot machines. People sat in nearly every chair and Lou, of all people, understood that despite the occasional cheers of a winner, every patron was contributing to his ever-growing empire. The game tilted in his favor, of course. Over the life of a slot machine, ten percent of every dollar put into it would go to Lou.

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As I drifted around the park, I thought about the argument Nick and I had just had. We seem to be having the same argument over and over again, more frequently these days. You see, after trying anything and everything, our sex life, while exciting, was still plagued with one major problem. I don't orgasm during sex. When I'm alone, it happens, but it always seems to elude me when Nick and I are making love.

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Part of me hates this man, whom I'll call "X" for now. We didn't get along as a couple, which is why we broke up in the first place. I didn't even hate him when we broke up- it was very amicable, the old ‘we're just in very different places right now,' blah blah blah… but very soon after the split, I found myself fantasizing, over and over again, about the sex we used to have. It became totally consuming, to the point that I finally found myself breaking down and calling him on the phone one day.

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Saturday afternoon on a brisk November day in Calgary. I was into my second month of a six month stay, having come up from Houston for a consulting job in the oil fields. So far, Calgary had been nonstop hard work, and this day was the first break I'd taken. Keith, a foreman with the company I was contracted to, had invited me to watch a hockey game with his girlfriend Danielle and his crew of tough, muscled roustabouts and roughnecks.

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Julie Davidson arrived back at her apartment block just after midnight. She paid the taxi driver and stomped towards the entrance door. She was in a foul mood. The 41-year-old divorcee had been looking forward to this night out all week. It was a rare chance to get out, dress up and enjoy herself. She had been out with her friends Louise and Pamela and after a few drinks they had all started flirting with guys, to her horror both she and Louise had ended up going after the same guy and he had brushed Julie off with a comment about not dating older women while Louise had her tongue in his ear!

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Paul's a mate of mine. He's a genuine nice guy and that surprises people when they find he's a mate of mine. Most people think I'm a bit of a bastard, but Paul doesn't mind that. He just says that's who I am. Like I said, a genuine nice guy. Like me, he's in the building trade. Difference is, he's concreter, where I'm a carpenter.

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