Your erotic stories

I entrust you with the only copy. I know that you will not mistake my purpose, but we know who will. I can call nothing in my house entirely my own. The words are wretched, of course, but perhaps they give some sense. Kneeling. He is naked before me. There are no faces in my dreams, as in my life; I have no memory for them. Only voices, and words.

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I pulled the Kenworth into the driveway, drove it into its spot next to the house, and shut down the big Cat diesel. After checking everything out inside the cab, I grabbed my bag from the sleeper, opened the door, and stepped out into the chill Alaskan evening. I had just completed a three-day run to Kenai and back; I was tired and smelled of diesel, cigars, and stale coffee.

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Steve found himself the last person in the office again. It was another late night, and Christmas was fast approaching but he just had to finish the sales proposal. It was a huge account and could make or break his bonus for the next year. It was all going to be worth it in the end, he told himself. He girlfriend, Beth, had been bitching constantly about the late nights that Steve was putting in.

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You were always there for me. And I for you. A week before my sweet sixteenth birthday I came to you crying because I was “Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed.” So, even though all of the exploring we had up until then had only been the hiking in the woods, or swimming in the creek, or at the most, in-depth verbal discussions of our passing childhood and maturing sexuality, you kissed me.

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My husband was tied to the bed naked; his cock lay limp between his legs. Tonight I planned to indulge him in his secret fetish for smoking. My husband does not smoke, but is always on my case when I have the occasional cigarette. If I smoked in public, it would usually cause a row. I cut back from 10 cigarettes a day, to 20 in a week our son was born. One day whilst shopping on the internet, I was shocked to see in the history browser lots of sites for smoking fetishes. My husband must have forgotten to delete them.

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My boyfriend and I had talked about doing a threesome for a while and finally found another guy. I had told the BF I wanted to try double-penetration and he seemed into it. Him and I had done anal together and we both liked it. So that night, once the two guys and I were naked, I used my talented mouth to get them both hard, having them stand on either side of me as I knelt between them.

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Brandon leaned over the low, padded cubicle wall and winked at Colleen and told her she was looking mighty fine today. Then, as he turned and moved down the corridor between the cubicles, a large, apparently heavy file box under his arm, he barely missed running into Rhonda, and gave her a cheery hello and a big smile before going on his way.

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Not since childhood had I been so excited to open a new toy. After weeks of waiting it had arrived. I cursed myself for choosing standard delivery but was there really a reason to rush order anal beads? They were glorious - and intimidating. The color was red and there were six beads of increasing size and girth with a handle at the end. It was far too long for my petite ass. I was setting a goal of three beads at the max.

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We moved, my daughter and I. We loaded up the a U-Haul ourselves. Everything was going great. We unloaded everything at the new house and returned the truck to the dealership in our newly adopted hometown. But then my daughter fell face-first from a few feet up from the back of the truck with an arm full of moving blankets. You know, the kind that are used to protect furniture. She was carrying the blankets to their U-Haul office so that the dealer could count them.

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I met Jaime on my job working as a waitress. Our restaurant was something like hooters but with a different name. All of us waitresses wore short booty shorts, tight t-shirts and high heels. It was hard walking around all night in those shoes but the tips were fabulous.

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