Your erotic stories

I was lost deep in thought as I worked on the month end reports for the VP when I heard my office door softly opens and then shut. Curious as to who would be bothering me at this time of the month, I glanced up from my cluttered desk to see who was disturbing me when I saw my girlfriend Meghan standing at the door to my office dressed to kill, or maybe I should say tease all the men (and women). Meghan has long curly brown hair that frames a beautiful oval shaped face, with the deepest brown eyes you've ever seen.

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We went out for a romantic dinner by candlelight at a small local restaurant. My wife was wearing a rather sheer black dress that wrapped at the top, showing a lot of cleavage, especially since she wasn't wearing a bra. In the right light, her turgid nipples were very visible. We held hands and looked at each other through dinner with lust in our eyes. My dick was half-hard all the way through the meal especially since I was wearing a thick chrome cock ring and no underwear.

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NIGHT OF THE PARTY Steve felt Randi's legs tighten around his waist as he slowly pounded his long, hard shaft into her wet tunnel. At nearly twice his age, Steve was amazed at the stamina she showed in bed. A petite mother of two, with long blonde hair and stunning blue eyes set above sharp cheekbones, Randi was in tremendous shape with a slim waist and slender legs, her breasts, while small, were still pert and firm.

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As a young man of 21 I worked in on musicals and I was privileged to have an older lover who taught me techniques that have never failed me. Jackie was 39 y/o when I met her. She was a singer/dancer and had a fabulous body and really knew how to use it and showed me a lot. We didn’t go out much, just a stack of nights of great sex.

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My Adventures into becoming a switch were thrust upon me one evening, whilst, after a good seeing too, my boyfriend and I were engaging in pillow talk. It had been a particularly enjoyable and energetic session, and, as was the norm, I was left feeling deliciously sore. I was bathing in the tender feelings of my spanked ass, which was now resting against the bedsheets, and my throbbing pussy.

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Two days after I graduated from High School, my dad surrendered to the cancer that had been kicking his ass for more than three years. To say my mom and I were devastated would be an understatement. It seemed like we died with him as we moved like zombies in a cloud of unreality. A world without him was no place we knew or wanted to know. And yet, there we were, the carpet pulled forever out from under us.

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Not for the first time, she swished her ass as she walked by him. It was an ongoing temptation that he could no longer resist. Steve had decided that he was going to teach this little tease a lesson, and have his way with her whether she wanted it or not. This beautiful cockteaser had been taunting him long enough.

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My name is Trish, and my life changed by pure coincidence. A single friend of mine was showing me this website she was using to help find people for her to "hook up" with. I wasn't really interested because I'm happily married and have been for twenty years, but it was great hearing her get excited about it. She just gave me a quick overview of the site, punched in some search criteria and let me look at the results.

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I've always been a hairier-than-average guy, and I've always been grateful that, in the body-type lottery, I was given a hairy one. Mind you, I'm not the hairiest guy you'll ever meet -- not like those guys who get nicknames like 'Bear' or 'Ape' -- but my chest and shoulders have a nice, ample covering of hair, and my arms and legs, too. I was 'That Kid' in junior high -- the first guy in my class to hit puberty, the guy the other boys gawked at in the showers after gym class.

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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.

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