Your erotic stories

I love my wife, and I would never cheat on her. Usually, when someone makes such a bold statement, the word 'but' follows and we hear how this is not always the case. I suppose my story is no different. Kelly and I have been together since high school. I thought back then it was a love that would always last. Ten years later, it was still the case. Kelly had been out of town for three weeks now, acting as a consultant for a company in California.

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Edwin was definitely not the sort of guy I fell for. Not even close. I fell for wild boys who partied hard. Boys in black leather jackets with lots of tattoos and rings in their noses. The bad boys, the loud boys, the boys who knew where to find the best parties on Friday and Saturday nights. I knew they were trashy and rude, but I liked it. I couldn't help myself.

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Stuck on a boring conference call in my office, I found myself daydreaming while looking at my calendar. August already, wow! It was hard to believe that it had been almost a year since Patrick and I had gotten married! What with the whirlwind romance and laughably short engagement, I'd only actually known him for about 14 months. But there hadn't been a single moment that I'd regretted my decision. He was a wonderful partner, and our life together was quite fulfilling.

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It was 1959 and I was 19 years old. I had left London and had accepted a position as a junior clerk in a large company in the north of England. I found a small, cheap bed-and-breakfast hotel run by Mrs. Johnson, a friendly motherly type, who made me feel instantly at home. I decided to stay there for a couple of weeks until I found a flat to rent. It was Friday and my first night in the city.

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Let me help you understand my views on this. Dom/sub relationships are not about the bondage or the spanking or calling one Sir - or the other any sort of pet names - but it more on the way that two people interact. There are some assumptions that can be made - but then while interacting - no assumptions should be made - that is where you need to find out your partner.

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This is an erotic, short story about a St. Patrick's Day party at my best friend's house. She's a year younger then me, and Irish, so she loves to get drunk. I arrive at her house relatively early, but the party has already started. Her parent's are out, and so is her brother, so there's no fear of embarrassments. Of course, she's already drunk and welcomes me with a deep french kiss. She's never done that before.

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Marie, young and single. Vivacious and pretty. Reasonably intelligent and now, thanks to an unexpected inheritance, finally striking out to live on her own. With the help of her inheritance, Marie had purchased a small house in the suburbs, close enough to public transport to allow an easy commute to work and also in fairly close proximity to quite a nice beach.

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I remember the first time I ever thought of being of receiving anal. It was 1973 and I was laying in bed with my girlfriend at the time. We had just had sex and I asked her about having anal sex. She laughed and asked me how I would feel about having someone shove a big cock up my ass. I told her that I didn't think that anyone would be interested in fucking my ass and she blurted out that Roy probably would.

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I'm not what you would call slutty but kinky or freaky would describe me fairly well. I just love anything and everything to do with sex, straight bi or gay I like it all and never pass up an opportunity to try something new. I've never had a problem finding hot guys to fuck and sexy girls just LOVE to explore with me after a few drinks. Guys and gals alike have told me that my body is just to die for.

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Heather and her mother Rita moved into their new house a week ago. It was not a difficult move and they hadn't moved very far; it was only a few blocks away from their old place. The house was considerably different. It was a large house in a very upper class street. It was in a practical sense too big for the single mother and daughter, but Rita loved big houses and was determined to move into one. Heather didn't mind she was closer to her friend Anita, whom lived only a street away.

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