Your erotic stories

I love to flirt. I love the attention of men. When we were young, my husband hated when I drew the attention of other males. Secure in our relationship after all these years, he has actually come to enjoy it. We have our steamiest sex when the topic of an added male is introduced. For the most part my flirting has been just harmless fun.

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"For the last time; I don't KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" "Oh I think you do. I just don't understand who or what you're protecting." "Fucking cucaracha, do you have any ears?!" "And again, with the feistiness...Just tell us what we want to know." The room was poorly lit for effect, but the redhead didn't know that. She was blindfolded and cuffed to a cold steel chair.

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I’ve been married to you for about two years. You are my dream man. I came to you a virgin, you showed me the ways of love. Sadly though our life together has been reduced to quick snatches of time spent together at dinner and in bed. Sometimes we’re both too tired to make love. I hate that. I want to be close to you, closer than your skin.

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"I can't believe you're leaving man" I said to Leo as we walked to his house "if you leave I'm going to be left here with Jordan!" "Jo is your best friend, your better friends with him than you are with me." Leo replied. "Well yeah" I admitted "but he doesn't cook, and I've had more free meals at your house than a homeless shelter, and I know I work at a homeless shelter."

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Still spent, Scott was gazing in amazement at the scene in front of him. John was laying on the bed and mom was locked in his embrace. After being thoroughly fucked, the unconscious Carol was resting in the arms of the big stud, who loved cradling in his massive arms the mature, hot milf. Her small size fitted perfectly in his large frame, like a little baby fondled by an adult.

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I can barely contain my excitement. Tonight's the night I've been waiting for. Our tenth anniversary and the promise that Greta made to me on our wedding night. I should probably give you a little back story to explain the whole situation. See, I was Greta's first, the night we got engaged. I asked and presented her the ring. She said yes and put it on.

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I was trying to be careful as I carried the brimming pitcher of dark brown beer to the table in the corner. Jack had managed to arrive with only three-quarters of one after his trip to the bar. I was limiting my intake, and so was a bit steadier, but I was also trying to stay out from in front of the projector. The pitcher finally sat safely on the table. Helen carelessly sloshed the nutty brew into her pilsner and took a long draught.

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The heel of my boot clacked against the porcelain tiles of the outdoor bar as I stepped off of the small stage. I had just butchered a karaoke version of Friends in Low Places and was on my way back to my beer. My friends jeered as they signed up for their turn to do the same to some other unsuspecting classic of a tune. We were lit and having a blast. It was the kind of fun that attracted attention and made others want to join in.

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Olivia and I had not dated much. And most of that was more about sex, not dating. Our first date was dinner, then back to her place for drinks and, quickly, bed. It was not that I was so great at seducing her. She just seemed as interested in sex as I wanted her to be in my daydreams. If you're thinking that a relationship like that couldn't last, well... well, you're right. But on to the story.

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Three PM at the coffee shop last week, I saw someone I had not seen for nine years. Monet was a woman I had hired years ago to work in the shop I ran at the time. I was not the owner, but managed a gift shop on Sutter Street at Stockton in San Francisco. She and I ran the shop nights and weekends, and she was always nice to be around. At the time, we were both in our twenties, and things were good. No cares, lots of free time, and we both got to sleep late every morning.

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