Your erotic stories

Ron knelt on the floor of his closet rubbing his crotch to relieve his erect nine-inch cock as he peered through the vent into the bathroom in the apartment below. From here he could see Susie Ellis in her shower using her shower massage as a vibrator to get herself off. Ron had discovered this vent one day while cutting into the panel in the back of the closet in an attempt to create a hidden compartment to hide his porn collection from his wife.

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Yvette struggled playfully at the bonds that held her. She lay naked in her back yard. Her arms and legs spread apart bound to metal stakes buried in the ground. She had been left this way by her husband, Jim, as part of their game. Yvette loved bondage a rape-fantasy and Jim loved being dominant, so the two made a good couple in the bedroom. One of their little games was to have Yvette bound and exposed outside.

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"..And last but not least, Professor Douglas White," I said, making a gagging gesture with my finger as Suzie and Jennifer exchanged glances. We were sitting on the floor of Suzie's room, discussing our classes which began tomorrow. We had always spent the night at each other's houses the night before the new school year started, and our senior year was no exception.

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Used by a married couple – a couple I know want to have a threesome. He wants a FMF. She wants a MFM. They use me to resolve the problem. Jon and Jill have been friends for over 10 years. Jill and I have talked openly about many things. She was the first one I told of my wife's and my decision to divorce. We have openly talked about fantasies, and some past experiences. I have mentioned many times of my fantasies, specifically MFM, especially if I can watch the woman getting fucked by another man.

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I suppose you could say it was my own fault. I was on holiday and I suppose I let my hair down a bit. You know how it is. School's over for the year. You're eighteen and away from home. Nothing to do but have a good time. And that's what I was doing. That's all. I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not really. On this particular day I'd hired a moped and gone for a drive. I was just another teenager buzzing around on this little bike. It was fun.

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I had been reveling in Talia Dean's need for me. She came, practically on her knees, to get me to give it up to her. Considering I was a scrawny 150-pound nobody, it was nice. Here she was, the star quarterback's girlfriend in my room almost every night telling me how much she needed me and how much she appreciated me slipping it to her on the side.

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His dark, glittering eyes surveyed the room, flicking from body to body, his lips curled in a snarl of disgust. It had been a bitch of a day, and all he wanted now was a quick drink, a hot fuck and a few hours of sleep, preferably in that order. Too bad the only things out on a Saturday night were the college teenyboppers. With a snort he reminded himself that while they might look good, they generally didn't know shit about how to really please a man, how to take a good hard fucking and make him come back for more.

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It's been a sizzling hot day, and I was looking forward to an air conditioned couple of hours at the movies, but it's cranked up way too high and I'm freezing in here. I've got on the sun dress I wore at the park, and sandals...and goose bumps. I have to go get my sweater out of the car. There's a side exit to the parking lot. I explain to the doorman that I'll be back shortly.

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When I was in my early twenties and living in my own place my younger brother took it into his head to move in with me for a while. This had its pluses and its minuses. On the plus side he was good company and could help pay the rent and utilities. On the minus side he was a bit of a slob who took up my space. I liked being on my own.

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I like gardening. It's a relaxing hobby and I happen to have the knack of making plants grow. Give my brother and me two identical plants and what happens? He carefully plants his one, adds the right fertilizer, tends it carefully, watches over it like a mother with her baby, right up to the time it dies on him. Me, I slap my plant down into the soil and jump back to give it room to grow. A natural talent and a green thumb, I assure my brother. Pure arsed luck, he tells me.

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