Your erotic stories

When my wife quit working to have our first child, I secured a second job as a doorman/security guard at a high-rise apartment building about a half-hour from our home. The Bayview Towers was six stories high with a total of 60 apartments. The main floor consisted of two business apartments, management office and maintenance facilities. I would work there for about three years.

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My wife has instructed that I write about how I became her cuckolded husband. Janet and I met through her deceased husband Thomas who passed away six years ago from leukemia. Thomas was an architect and he and I met on a building project. I am a professional contractor. My first wife Jennifer and I had one child after marrying right out of college. Not long after our first child, she filed for divorce when she found evidence I had strayed outside of our marriage.

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I am probably the most typical white guy in America. 31 years old, married for 4 years, with a two year old kid and obsessed with sex. I can't help it. I want to kiss, lick and suck pussy. I want to bury my face in big, firm but soft mounds of breasts. I want to breathe in the mixed aroma between her legs of pussy and ass before I slowly drag my tongue from asshole to clit. I want her to do the same to me- but now I'm dreaming and this is a true story so I'll stick to the facts.

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Carol had enjoyed playing doctor with me. Enjoyed it? She'd gone ape at the end. And so had I. And then she'd suggested playing nurse. I wasn't sure what she had in mind, but I was determined to find out. I called her and made an appointment. "Will this be just the regular service?" she asked, "or do you need special treatment?"

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My name is Sam. I am a videographer by trade. I create corporate promo and training videos, although I also supplement my income by doing about 10 weddings per year. As fate would have it, the confluence of my two businesses brought me in contact with the RJS law firm and the most thrilling night of my life. The story starts six months ago. Out of the blue a woman called me inquiring about a corporate recruitment video she wanted produced.

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It was about 3 in the morning and Mark rolled out of bed with a keen thirst. He cursed himself for not having had the foresight to bring a glass of water to bed. They had been out to dinner, he and his wife, their son and daughter, plus three of his daughter's friends, Imogen, Hazel and Maddi. It had been a celebration for his daughter's 18th, and it had been expensive. But Mark didn't mind. Not just because he is a doting father, or because he is what you might call comfortably well-off, but because it gave him a chance to enjoy his daughter's sexy friends.

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I was in Montreal on business, though this day certainly wouldn't be as arduous as others. A client of mine had invited me and 100 of his closest friends to celebrate the purchase of his fourth home. Known for his extravagant tastes (usually quite urban), this house was surprisingly located on Lake St. Louis in Beaconsfield—an upscale, but very private area.

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Mack Thompson had just returned to his hotel room following an intense workout at the fitness center and swimming pool. He was in town for a conference and had arrived a day early. At 30 years old he was the picture of health and could have been the poster guy for a fitness club. Mack stood at 6'2" and weighed a chiseled 190 pounds. He had light brown hair that he always kept short and hazel eyes. He loved to play golf, ski and swim in addition to his routine gym workouts.

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Metallic grey skies had hung over London for days before finally bursting into hours of torrential rain. Tom felt his spirits dampen beyond retrieval. He had been walking in Regent's Park, the grim weather keeping it almost empty; now he needed some resolution to his mood. It was either Mozart on the South Bank or the whores out East.

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Crack. The sound slices like a steel blade through the chatter of the conference room. Heads whip around, staring at me, while I stare at the broken glass of water. The glass of water I was supposed to bring. "Well don't just stand there, clean the bloody thing up." I bend down, black pencil skirt riding up slightly as I gingerly pick up the delicate shards of glass.

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