Your erotic stories

Look at you now, was it only four weeks ago I said those same words. Sitting on my big double bed I remember looking in the ornate dressing table mirror, look at you now Mrs Susan Watts; it was so strange to be called Watts, 21 years as Harbert, and for the last month Mrs Rupert Watts. A month of bliss. My mind went back to that lovely honeymoon in the Seychelles and the things a new wife experienced.

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I grabbed her from behind and she screamed -- "Wha --Mmmm!" -- before I gagged her with my hand and crushed my other around her waist, pinning her left arm to her side. I could feel the softness of her white terry cloth bathrobe through my sweatpants and black turtle neck shirt. God, she felt amazing, and I wondered if she could feel my own heart hammering in my chest as much as my nine inch hard-on pressing against her ass.

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Most people have some talent at which they excel. Me, I'm a maestro of the movie camera. I've been doing media studies and I found that I had an amazing knack for getting the best out of a camera. This led to me getting an offer I couldn't refuse. Not from The Godfather, happily, but from a wannabe rock band at our school.

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Hi. Let me introduce myself. My name is Jodi, and in most ways I think I'm a fairly average Australian college girl. For instance, I'm always broke, I don't study as hard as I should, and I love to party. In other ways though, I'm probably not average. I think I have above average looks - I'm blonde, 5'8", slender, but with fairly large breasts (C cup), nice legs, and a tight ass that I'm quite proud of. (I probably sound really conceited saying this, but I'm not really.)

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This time when he kissed her there was something different about it. Something more behind the pressure of his lips on hers, one of his broad hands splayed across her lower back, pulling her against him, the other on the back of her neck, controlling her movements. She shuddered when his tongue pressed past her teeth, licking like flames inside her mouth, and she opened her lips further to accept his assault. She didn't know what had brought this on;

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Kim couldn’t believe she was doing this. Her heart was racing fast. She was tempted to go back downstairs and lock the back door, and curtail the fantasy for now. Despite her trepidation, she had done everything as planned – leaving the back door closed, but unlocked. She had left the back porch light off, and the backyard gate slightly ajar. It had all been arranged as they agreed upon. Every detail. But now...she was having second thoughts as fear griped her.

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I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist. The thought of someone getting turned on by watching me excites me to no end. I like the idea of someone stroking themselves after having caught a glimpse of me. That being said, until a few days ago, I had never really considered how dangerous it was. The desire blinded me to all the risks.

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The bedroom was filled with the constant yet broken sounds of bed springs squeaking under the rhythmic thrusts of a man into his woman. But it wasn't the bed making the noise; it was Cindy who groaned intermittently with sharp, feminine 'coos' and 'ahhs' that were neither exaggerated nor too quiet to discern. Matching her steady pattern of moans and no doubt causing them was the driving of Carl's rigid seven inches into that sweet spot between Cindy's thighs.

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Chapter one She stood there gazing at the waters. The sea calm the waves rich and the beauty of it mesmerizing. Sabrina hunter was a rare beauty, jet black long wavy hair, wide grey eyes, lips made for kissing and a body to make men weep. Hey eyes filled with tears as she remembered the events of the past 24 hrs. For the day before her father, had passed away leaving her alone.

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Chapter 2: Slut Mother I came home a little after one in the morning. I was partially tipsy and not in the best of moods as I made my way up the stairs. I suppose the fault is mine. I did not marry because I was in love but because Richard was filthy rich. My parents spoilt me and in Richard I saw a means of continuing this high standard. Admittedly, I have everything I ever wanted with the exception of two children that I did not. Don and Cindy are a by-product of my marriage; I do not hate them but simply tolerate them. At least we were well off enough to afford a nanny and therefore I did not have to soil my hands or spend too much time with them.

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