Your erotic stories

They had arranged the appointment a week ago. It was to be a perfectly innocent and professional eight-o'clock breakfast meeting, a chance for two of the firm's newest lawyers to get to know each other a little better before spending all day Saturday in a dreary seminar on intellectual property rights That's what they had told themselves all week, each of them trying to fend off that nag of a conscience that kept warning them that this was something more, something more dangerous.

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It was one of those typical Saturday afternoons - Terri and I were sitting in her kitchen talking about girl stuff. We had been best friends for about a year. Our husbands worked at the same advertising agency. They were off golfing and her and I were catching up.

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When my computer software company started a coed softball team I decided to sign up, figuring it would be a good way to socialize with other employees. As it turns out, not many people signed up, so one of the younger people filled out the team with a bunch of her friends. When I turned up at the first game, there were a bunch of 20 somethings, a few 30 somethings, and me, a mid 40s something. Since I am a fairly fit mid 40s, I didn't stand out too much.

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My beloved Mistress R sat naked on the end of the bed, still slightly wet from her shower. Her legs were pressed together, hiding her delicious pussy from view. I was trembling slightly as I looked at her gorgeous, glistening naked breasts which were right in my line of sight as I knelt on the floor, naked except for the cock ring that was making me agonisingly hard. She placed a finger on my chin and lifted my head to look into her eyes. Her voice was calm, but authoritative.

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'Strap-on fucked'. . . the phrase alone sounds so depraved, but I found out that it doesn't have to be. Well, hell, maybe it is, but perhaps that's the fun of it! I came to this realization a few years after college, when I was dating Emma. She was short, with dirty blond hair, and a mischievous smile. She was not skinny, but not big either; she was sorta pear-shaped and curvy, which was strangely attractive when she would walk naked through her apartment.

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"Drink then?" Steve asked for the third time. "Mmmm," came the semi-conscious reply. He was bored, thirsty, and bored. He got off his sun lounger and wandered off to the bar at the other side of the pool, grabbing an eyeful of the blonde in the black bikini, as he walked past, from behind the cover of his shades. Unbeknown to him the blonde had watched his departure from behind her own shades. She had chosen a spot in the sun next to this nice British couple on purpose - they looked like fun.

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The cigarette burned my fingers, damn it, how long had I been holding it without taking a drag. The tiny filter slipped from my fingers and sparked briefly as it came to rest on the ground, on the hard pavement outside the apartment complex. I had been watching the complex for what, two hours now? What did it matter, I filled my lungs with the midnight air and felt enriched by its scent.

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My first attempt at gay erotica and completely fictional. Hope you enjoy. I was only halfway through my first semester at college and already couldn't stand anymore of my obnoxious, slovenly constantly partying suitemates. Believe it or not, I came to college to actually get an education and I was tired of having to do all my studying at the library.

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Zee is my mother. I wanted to say that right up front because I want to tell my story straight. Anyway there aren't a lot of places you can tell a story like this unless people know what it's about beforehand so it seems silly to write half the story and then say "Oh by the way…" Who's surprised?

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N--- was a pretty young Asian woman. The first time we went out, I picked her up after she got off work at the restaurant where I had met her. We had made no particular plans, which suited her just fine. As we drove around looking for something to do, a dance song she liked came on the radio, and she closed her eyes and began dancing dreamily in the bucket seat beside me, her arms in the air above her head, her upper body swaying erotically to the beat. Her sweater-clad breasts, round and relatively large for her very petite frame, thrust outward as she moved. I began to believe this would be a very good first date.

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