Your erotic stories

I'm having an affair. Like many in this position I didn't plan it. I'm in my mid thirties, happy with a family and my life but I guess something must have been missing otherwise I wouldn't be here. It started because of the bad weather we'd been having. Weeks of rain with little respite had made our laundry pile grow and grow.

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Now, it's not what you might think; I'm not talking about that annoying Microsoft Office pop-up. No, I'm talking about the London Clippy, more properly known as a bus conductress. This was long before the Oyster Card method of payment that you wand as you board a bus, through concertina folding doors. Back then there was no door, just an open platform at the back left hand side (e.g. the side facing the pavement). A driver would pull up almost one bus length beyond the painted sign that was attached to a post.

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She stood in front of the mirror, slowly taking in what she saw reflected. Most of her day had been spent alone, so that she might have ample time to prepare. Her dark eyes flickered as they moved over her image, checking carefully, looking for even the smallest flaw. The short sundress she wore appeared white at first glance, but was actually a pale lilac. It had an embroidered bodice and hem, and spaghetti straps that left her shoulders exposed.

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We stood there together, about to go into the bar. He looked me right in the eyes and stared for a minute. "You sure you're ready to do this?" I could see the look of concern wash over his face. "Baby," I said, grabbing both of his hands. "This was my idea, remember. You are the one who looks worried. Are you OK with this?" He smiled so big, I thought his face would freeze like that.

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Tuesday morning I took special care in getting ready for work; knowing it was Jacks usual day to frequent the library. I'd spent the night (like most others that week) dreaming of Jack's sweet seduction and our "date" last week. Scanning the conservative work clothes in my closet I finally settled on the form-fitting black skirt and the soft red sweater. I was so nervous; it took me several tries just to get the seams straight on the backs of my stockings. The morning seemed to take forever to pass and after lunch I'd stood at my office window, lost in fantasies of Jack.

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Tonight was his birthday. His present was my ass's virginity. I'd prepared it for him, stretched my back entrance with my fingers and toys so as soon as he came home he could have me. I heard him open the door and call for me. I didn't answer, I wanted him to see me how I was. My ass high up in the air with a large plug in it.

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Lynne called the other day and asked to have lunch with me. That could mean only one thing. She had another match for me. Lynne runs a lesbian matching making service that comes perilously close to being an escort service and hence prostitution. The only thing that keeps it legal is the fact that both parties to the match must pay a fee for the introduction. What takes place after the introduction is simply whatever two consenting adults agree to do.

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I was ready for a night out… dressed to kill in a black lace stretch top over a black lace bra, black miniskirt, thigh-high black silk stockings and black velvet heels. A lacy black thong was the only thing coming between my lover’s hands and my pussy, which was ready for a hot night out of drinking and dancing… knowing that his hands would be roaming and bringing me to a fever tonight, enhanced by the forbidden pleasure of touching in public.

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It's amazing how sharp your senses get when death is in the vicinity. Christine Reynolds could hear clearly the sounds of far-off coyotes and the whistle of a train from many miles away. She could smell the smoke from the pistol she still held in her hand, and the blood of the man lying on the ground in front of her. The echo of the gunshots still reverberated in her ears as she stared numbly at his dead body. A light desert breeze caressed her naked body as she stood in the moonlit darkness trying to make sense of what had just happened.

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It was all her fault. Really it was, I swear. I mean why else would I have ended up at the pornshop sucking cock and getting fucked through a gloryhole? It was her fault. Can't you see that?? Ok, maybe I better start from the beginning.

I was on a business trip to Wheeling a few years back. Yea, Wheeling. Nail City. And about as exciting as a sack of nails. I was looking for some fun so I went to the strip club on the island in the middle of town. Well, somebody had complained and they had cracked down, no total nudity and alcohol at the same time.

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