Your erotic stories

The three girls were best friends, Jessica, Francess, and Heidi. They were spending the night at Jessica's house, and being normal 19 year olds the conversation turned to sex. They had been talking about all of the boys they desired, and Jessica could see that all three of them were squirming in some wet panties now. Heidi broke the ice though, as she usually did.

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It was almost six p.m. shift change at the small local bar that has been my hangout for many years. I seem to only get there on Sunday evenings now. I shoot pool with friends, look at the strippers and stock up on fantasies for the coming week. One lovely, married dancer named Britney was responsible for a large share of them. She always worked Sunday evenings. Her life has been in turmoil for most of the last year. Every few times I see her I help her relax and get her off with my hands in the private corner.

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Alex had Devin pinned on the bed, finally! Her long slender legs were pinned between his, and he held her arms above her head by her wrists. He looked down at the woman beneath him. She lay flat on her back with her hair wild all around her head on the pillow, almost like a halo. Her face flushed a pretty shade of pink, her eyes dancing with mischief, and a stunning smile on her lips.

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In a couple of weeks I'm running a large party with a group of friends. The organisation side of things is hotting up and there is a flurry of activity in my social circle with all our friends getting ready for the party. On Saturday just past, my wife Samantha decided to go out shopping with her friend Erica to buy clothes for the party. The party is nominally black tie, but the 'understanding' is that it should be a place where people feel comfortable with a more sexy take on the theme.

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It had started as a playful exchange online, but each seemed to know the rules and what was expected. The inevitable meeting 'for coffee' had been eagerly anticipated by each and the time spent in each others company had been as expected; polite, amicable, flirtatious and with a building tension of expectancy.

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“Holy Fuck” shouted Chuck, as the information flashed up on his computer screen. He could not believe it at first, but it was true, he had found her, after two weeks of searching. There it was in black and white. Heather Harlow, ex glamour model, now living in Monterey CA. There was even a phone number, and her e-mail too. The question was, what was he to do now, he needed to contact her, but through what medium? A phone call was out of the question, too personal, too soon.

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She was a pale and kinky bisexual BBW, close to two hundred and fifty pounds, probably five foot ten, with long red hair that she wore in a braid when she shot pool. Her name was Opal and she drove around in a pale blue Mercedes. She shot in two leagues and even managed her own team, an all-Lady crew in which she was the best player and in which two of the other seven members were also BBWS.

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I was 18 and we had been fucking like rabbits. I had been home only 3 days since my return from MCRD (Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego). (AKA "Boot Camp.) My little girlfriend, the also 18-year-old "Katie," had been more than accommodating. I was definitely enjoying my first gays of freedom after the hardest 13 weeks of my life. Plus, she didn't mind at all my new body. I was now a 5'11" 165 lbs. Body of steel. Definitely worked off my baby fat.

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It wasn't easy being a young professor at a southern university in the US. When I say young, I mean young. I was always an overachiever, and got my Ph.D at 22 and began teaching immediately. This meant that I was barely older than my students at best. This had the potential for becoming an outright, unmitigated disaster, and everyone knew it. The Director of my program never came out and said anything to me directly, but it was clear he was keeping a close eye on me.

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My sister Janet didn't believe me and laughingly said so! I thought it strange she could be so cheerful considering the circumstances; we were at a funeral after all. But no, she didn't believe I could return to the same Greek Island for the same two weeks, (the last week of April and first of May) staying at the same hotel in the same room for 14 consecutive years and that this year would be my fifteenth trip.

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