Your erotic stories

Looking around the room, she made sure the candles were in place. So many colors, shapes and sizes, yet they fit with the décor, adding a hint of mysterious shadow in one spot while dispelling shadows in another. Colors, blending with orchids arranged amid baby's breath, complementing framed artwork hanging above them, enhancing deep rich hues of hanging drapery and reflecting off gleaming woodwork, each had its place and was ready for the match.

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As he exploded in her mouth she felt the car slow a bit, bearing to the right. She wiped the last remnants of his pleasure from her chin and sat up, taking a look at the rest area around them. They both needed to compose themselves so he picked a remote parking space in the RV lot and put the car in park. To their mutual chagrin, a small Winnebago pulled into the spot next to them.

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Jasmine and I have been seeing each other for about three years now. Although I was totally in love with her, I have to admit I was getting a little bored with our sex life, and I found my eyes were straying a little more than they should. I most definitely did not want to cheat on her, though, so I figured it was time to try and make her into a three-input lady.

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Leonora moved in next door to us in the summer of 1972. I was 20 at the time and our new neighbour was a ripe, finely mature forty-five years young. I was in lust from the moment I first saw her and that first sighting actually took my breath away. It wasn't until my brain registered the tightness in my chest that I made a conscious effort to breathe;

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I met Danielle through a friend at a party. She was a hot little half Italian and half Jewish girl with a great little body, pretty face and beautiful brown hair. She was also sexy as could be. I was busy with other people at the party so we did not hook up then, but a couple months later a mutual friend of ours, Rachel, asked if Danielle could crash at my place while she looked for a place to live in Toronto.

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The young man in the story is 19 years old. This story begins in a bathroom at Washington Park in 1973... * Chapter One: Roaming eyes. I was minding my own affairs, just taking a leak in the men's room in the park, when it came to my attention that I had an audience down at the other end of the long through urinal. I glanced over, and saw that it was a guy that had been sitting on the side of the hill watching us work.

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Brock Barry Peterson was the handsomest man I had ever seen. He was over six feet tall and had smooth clear skin, blue blue eyes and white white wavy hair. He was always impeccably dressed in expensive well-tailored suits, crisp ironed shirts, and tastefully colored ties. He wore a special cologne. I don't know what it was, but it was heady. Sitting across from his desk, taking instructions, I was breathing in his aroma and getting absolutely intoxicated.

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Chapter 1 Okay, okay, let's get the laughs over with right now. "Short" career? Just how short is it? Ha, ha. Okay, ready for the real story now? My name is Marty Green, I work for an advertising agency as an account representative so I'm basically a prostitute. I knew you'd say it if I didn't.

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Hello my name is Charlize Waters. Everyone calls me Charlie. I'm quickly approaching 30 years of age and dreading it. The big 3 0. I've been pulling gray hairs out of my hair brush for the last year. I'm also noticing lines on my forehead whenever I look in the mirror. Some might say that 30 isn't old at all, but you have a tendency to feel old when the majority of your co-workers don't know who the Fraggles were and can't legally buy alcohol. I work in a college town in a store that sells textbooks and apparel for the college.

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"Is that too tight?" I asked. Sandra tried to move her wrists and was satisfied that she still had circulation, "No, no, that's fine." "Alright then, let's go, we've got a lot of miles to cover and I'd like to get on the road." I firmly griped her upper arm and escorted her to my Ford Bronco outside. She hesitated at the door of her tiny apartment and held the cuffs up, "the neighbors." I took a jean jacket she had hanging on a coat tree and draped it over her cuffed wrists.

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