Your erotic stories

He had never told me his name. That realization hit me suddenly, forcefully, as I hesitated in the doorway of the large, immaculate, well-appointed suite. The very upscale hotel clearly lived up to its advertising -- which used words like "discerning tastes," "classically comfortable," and even "the ideal destination for enjoyment of discrete leisure activities."

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His dark, glittering eyes surveyed the room, flicking from body to body, his lips curled in a snarl of disgust. It had been a bitch of a day, and all he wanted now was a quick drink, a hot fuck and a few hours of sleep, preferably in that order. Too bad the only things out on a Saturday night were the college teenyboppers. With a snort he reminded himself that while they might look good, they generally didn't know shit about how to really please a man, how to take a good hard fucking and make him come back for more.

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Bob was a retired public school teacher who had begun a second career in carpentry. He liked working outdoors and had always been good with tools. He found that without advertising he could stay very busy. He began by building a deck for the bank president and "word of mouth" had kept him busy for over a year. He could pick and choose his projects and found that he especially enjoyed building decks and porches.

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Megan looked up from her salad and started another scan of the food court crowd. She wasn't people watching, as much as person watching. She knew who she was looking for. At first, her search appeared to be fruitless, as it had been for the past two days. It was highly unusual for Megan to go this long without...

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Kerri poured herself another glass of wine. She tilted the bottle up, all the way up until the last red drop fell into her cup. She sighed and took another deep swig, feeling the acid of the cheap wine burning her throat slightly on the way down. She had been sitting in the Pisa airport for nearly 24 hours. The train system, in fact, all travel systems in Italy, was perpetually running late.

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Three times a week, I go to a gym after work -- one, to work off stress of the day and two, to keep in shape. One night after work, I stopped by the gym and went through a serious workout. The first half, I worked on the lower part of body and the second half on the upper.

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My wife is a bitch! I use the word bitch to describe my wife's overall personality and not as an adjective to suggest the occasional mood that she exhibits around the house. Oh, she knows that she is a bitch and is most proud of that title. My wife pretty much rules the household and finds it quite delightful to make me squirm should I show the slightest bit of discomfort in her presence. If I look guilty, then I must have done something wrong or I am up to something, she is fond of saying.

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It was a very late night for Dana and Gina and both slept late into the morning. When they finally rose from bed Dana slipped into one of the long shirts she usually wore to bed and didn't bother to put anything on underneath. Gina pulled on another of Dana's large sleep shirts and she too didn't bother to put on anything else.

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Like a swirl of murky water shifting and clearing, Amber slowly drifted out of slumber and opened her eyes to narrow slits, getting used to the morning light as she lay, waking, in bed. Yet something was wrong. First of all, her bed had never felt this hard, and there were no blankets or bed sheets either. As her still muddled mind slowly drifted out of sleep, struggling to understand what was happening, a chill like a tiny spark of electricity shot up her spine and blossomed into warm pleasure as it reached her head.

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Part 1: The Wedding Night and Honeymoon I looked at my bride Kendra at the wedding reception. She looked so good in her wedding dress. Her shy smile could capture the heart of any guy. She had not had intercourse before. Technically, she wasn't a virgin, since she had let a guy finger her pussy once and it was painful for her.

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