Your erotic stories

If you ask me now what I was doing there, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t remember much about that day; where I was going, who I needed to see, even which direction I was headed. The only thing that stuck out was a chance sighting on the subway of the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on. He was like a vision from a dream. Tall and slim with delicate, tanned and seemingly hairless flesh that peeked out of the top of a silken button-down shirt.

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When Christopher DeVries arrived home from school, there was a simple message stuck to the refrigerator: Be here when I get back from work, we have to talk. Mom. The door had been purged of expired notes and grocery lists to make the message stand out. She had even thought to use the little magnet shaped like an exclamation point to pin it up.

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After a short courtship, Mara and I married in a small ceremony with only a few close friends and family members present: her mother, my mother and father, her brother, and of course, my son Luke. Luke was 11 years old now, not the best age to go through such a large life change as getting a new stepmother, but then again, is there ever a good age for that? In any case, he was clearly feeling better than he had just after his mother died. He was performing better in school, and he seemed to be bonding with Mara.

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On the outskirts of any big city you will find a few scattered small towns not yet gobbled up by the ravenous metropolis. They tend to be away from the major highways, which is probably the reason they haven't been overwhelmed. But with the big city just there, a lot of people drift from the small towns to the city itself. Shops that used to support the small town just can't compete with the big city malls and close down.

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Ever since that night when my wife gave me head while she sat on the toilet taking a leak, the mere sound of her peeing starts a stirring in my cock. When she gets up in the middle of the night for a late night whiz, her stirring often wakes me a little. As I lay there in the stillness, I can hear her pad across the room to the bathroom, and I know in a matter of seconds I will hear those intoxicating chimes as her bladder releases and a stream of her hot urine sprays into the toilet bowl.

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Married, and deeply in love with my husband, but strongly curious about sex with another woman. That's where my head was just about everyday, especially after meeting Claire. Claire and I had met and became good friends online about 3 months ago. I had always been curious but never thought I would actually enter into a sexual relationship with another female until meeting Claire face to face over lunch for the first time. She was a strikingly beautiful woman with a smile that reflected in her eyes.

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First of all, I want to say thank you to those people that have written with feedback. It is always good to know what you the readers want to see. * * * * * Carrie followed me to the kitchen keeping her eyes on the floor. I didn't know what to think about this new attitude. She had been so bubbly. I walked out to the eastern porch and noticed the sun was well overhead and it was getting hot. "Carrie, what time is it?"

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While I was working in an empty apartment today a painter showed up to prep the walls. He was in his mid to late twenties. Short spikish dark hair with sideburns and a goatee. His lightly tanned muscular arms were covered in tattoos. He had a sleeveless shirt and loose boardshorts on, with leather flip flops.

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My name is Rachael, I'm 49 years old, and one of the three founding members of S.O.S., the Sisterhood of Sex. The sisterhood began a few years back as part of a running joke between myself and two very close girlfriends. We would get together during the day while the kids were at school and the topic would almost always turn to sex, or as was often the case, the lack of it.

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Sun, sand, and silence. The beach was gloriously empty. Susan had been coming to this stretch of the Côte d'Ivoire for years. It was her retreat from the whirl of business life. The pavillon was humble by modern standards -- only a few rooms, with aging fitments -- but its rustic charm somehow enhanced rather than reduced its appeal. It was a family-run affair: well, it had been. The concierge had mentioned a change of ownership when she'd arrived yesterday afternoon.

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