Your erotic stories

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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Lewis Shanklin was frustrated. It had been a year since his wife walked out on him and he hadn't had good sex since. He hadn't exactly had good sex with his ex-wife, but at least it was a regular supply of pussy without having to go through the charade of wining and dining a woman who might or might not put out. And his situation was worse still. He was in his mid-40s now and he wasn't as fit as he'd been in his 20's.

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It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and I was at home doing nothing, and doing it quite well. I was sitting back on the couch, idling watching the TV, and enjoying a quiet beer. That's when Cathy showed up. Cathy is a friend of my daughter, Christy. They've been best friends for years and are always hanging out together.

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It had been so long since I had seen you. I had convinced myself I had moved on; gotten past the addiction that was you. At first, I had lain awake, night after night, a hot ache between my legs, longing for you to be there, to feel your touch, to feel you possess me; but over time, the feelings faded to memories and I took a new lover, someone less exciting, but also less demanding. I convinced myself I was fine, I didn’t need your particular brand of fun. How wrong I was.

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