Your erotic stories

Sex with Laila was always dirty, but when she whispered in my ear mid-fuck that she'd be wanting my ass next, my pussy clutched itself around her hand so hard I expected her knuckles to come out bruised. I rode out my climax, my fingers lost in her raven-black hair as colours collided in my brain, my muscles flexing to the rhythm of her last strokes inside of me.

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My dear wife is a very busy lady and works long hours doing her job. However the harder she works the more money she earns to keep us in the style to which we have become accustomed. Her long working hours mean that sex between us is a rarity and unfortunately we do not make love that often. Sally, my wife has a very high-powered professional job, which entails traveling round local businesses giving advice and sorting out their I.T. problems.

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Standing alone in my room, in front of a full length mirror, I was busy admiring myself standing fully nude except for a pair of black thigh high stockings. I was fresh out of the shower, completely freshly shaven and my dark, shoulder length hair still warm from the hair dryer. My slender body was highlighted by my full C cups. They were perky as ever and my nipples had begun to harden just by standing there in the cool air with my thoughts.

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Ancient Cures for Modern Problems PART ONE Tim's mouth dropped open. A ghost! A man in white chino pants and a new red Hecadock Junior College sweatshirt yelled instructions to students on the tennis court. He was about forty, six-foot-two, powerful build, blond hair, crewcut.

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The water from the shower rinsed away the last bit of shaving cream from my lower stomach and upper thighs. My nether region was shaved bald and completely smooth with the anticipation that I would later ask my wife to take me into her mouth. She preferred that I stay clean shaven on all areas that she enjoyed kissing, so I did my best to keep her happy.

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Standing at the mirror, Sandy brushed back the stray hair from her face. Then she stepped closer and frowned at the reflection looking back at her. When did the wrinkles appear? Had they always been so deep? Her friends told her she could pass for 40, but she knew they were just being nice. The mirror didn't lie, and it was telling her she looked every one of her fifty-one years.

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After I'd divorced my wife of 10 years, I moved into a condo while she and the kids lived in the house. We'd parted amicably, but I was still pretty hurt by the whole process and the things that we'd said in court. Luckily, she wasn't able to take me all the way to the cleaners, so I was fairly well off even with the alimony and child support I had to pay. 

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I never know what my wife's got up her sleeves. At 35, Lily is every bit as beautiful as she was at 25, when we were married. Long, blonde hair cascading across her face. Silky soft pale skin. Incredible, firm breasts. A tight tummy. An ass I can't keep my hands off of. I don't know how I lucked into my marriage, but I am thankful for it every day.

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I was an only child. Dad was an attorney for one of those multi-name places, something like Smith, Smith, and Jones. Never quite knew what he really did, that is what an attorney does, I just knew he left in the morning and usually was home for dinner. Weekends he played golf, went fishing, things like that. Never with Mom. They seemed to have very separate lives.

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Once upon a time, a very handsome Master and his adoring pet were sleeping soundly in a large comfortable bed. Their bodies and souls were intertwined, as both tend to be in the midst of such a deep subconscious and vulnerable state. With him, to have such blissful sleep with her represented trust, and allowing her to be so close to him while in that vulnerable state. For her, the closeness and bliss allowed her to be protected, safe; her soul open, and the shelter of his embrace shields her from the world. Thus the cycle ensues...

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