Your erotic stories

I'm older than most of you reading these stories, but likely just as horny as any of you. I'm 61 years old and still have a fire in the furnace. There's not much snow on the dome, and I've got more hair then most all my friends. I work out regularly and manage to keep a fairly good physique, and can still do a day's work in the fields or woods. And I'm lonely.

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On this particular night I had decided to step inside a café. Not one of those trendy ones with surly employees and background music more suitable for night-clubs, but one with a warm and friendly, relaxed atmosphere that smelled of cinnamon. Just the kind I like. Sometimes I almost felt like one of them, sitting there and sharing that warmth. It was a soothing feeling but it always faded quickly. I am not of their kind, and I don't have much in common with most of my own kind, either. It's lonely. I didn't like it, but I didn't complain either. I'd gotten used to it.

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"Hey birthday boy," Leticia sidled up unexpectedly. "Tongue fuck your ass for a quarter?" Kyle choked on his Dew and sputtered, "Excuse me?" She broke into a snorting giggle, "Sorry, inside joke. Still skipping work to go camping this weekend, right? It's gonna be so awesome!" He found it hard to believe this total nerd would know how to have fun. Kyle put his arm around her and pulled her closer, "Maybe. Who else is coming, I forgot?"

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My name is Steve. I am now married to the most beautiful woman in the world. Just ask her she will certainly confirm it is true. This one is a keeper. I work construction; we build bridges and other large structures. I work out of town most of the time. While I own my home I rarely get to spend much time there. That is until the last job the company sent me to. I now work in town at the office, with only an occasional day or 2 out of town. Now the wife comes with me.

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Michael Powell was exhausted now. He lay very still, taking small, shallow, quick breaths. On his lumpy single bed, staring at the cracked, white ceiling of his room, Michael recounted the events of earlier that night, in his own private mind movie. He took one deeper breath, closed his eyes and smiled. He opened them again and reached over to pick up the toilet roll from the floor at the side of his bed.

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My Name is Karen. I'm going to relate to you the events that occurred during my summer vacation in 1997. I was 20 years old at the time. I had an experience with a woman who frightened me and it affected the rest of my life. Even now I can't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing, all I can do is relate to you the story of how I had lesbian sex for the first time in my life.

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"Hey Rob, wanna come with me to the gym tonight?" Leo's question in the phone surprised me a bit, but on the other hand, I had nothing better to do. "Sure, why not," I replied. "I'll just grab my things and meet you there." Twenty minutes later we stood in the locker room. Leo was already in his workout outfit - loose black pants, a tight white sleeveless shirt and fancy indoor sneakers - when I walked into the room.

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"Honey?" My girlfriend pushed me away gently and said the word I feared the most. We had just entered her apartment and by the time she locked the door I couldn't resist. I started kissing her. She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever been with. But every time she said, "Honey" it was always followed by something I wouldn't like.

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It's not in my nature to be violent. Really, it's not. Sure, I yell, swear, and slam doors, but to me these are just casual little outlets for minor irritations that go no further. But to actually physically harm someone? That would take a lot. I can count on one hand the number of times I actually feared I'd do someone bodily harm. Only twice did I actually go through with it: one man I had grabbed by the throat until my friends pulled me off, the other I punched twice in the face before his bloody nose told me things went too far.

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My roommate Jessica was beginning to be a bit of a drag. Slightly frumpy and conservative, she had a problem with me bringing boyfriends home on a regular basis. She constantly left me notes requesting that if I wanted to have "absurdly loud intercourse on a bi-nightly basis" (as she put it), I should have it at my partners' houses and not at our apartment.

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