Your erotic stories

The bedroom was filled with the constant yet broken sounds of bed springs squeaking under the rhythmic thrusts of a man into his woman. But it wasn't the bed making the noise; it was Cindy who groaned intermittently with sharp, feminine 'coos' and 'ahhs' that were neither exaggerated nor too quiet to discern. Matching her steady pattern of moans and no doubt causing them was the driving of Carl's rigid seven inches into that sweet spot between Cindy's thighs.

read more

Chapter one She stood there gazing at the waters. The sea calm the waves rich and the beauty of it mesmerizing. Sabrina hunter was a rare beauty, jet black long wavy hair, wide grey eyes, lips made for kissing and a body to make men weep. Hey eyes filled with tears as she remembered the events of the past 24 hrs. For the day before her father, had passed away leaving her alone.

read more

I had been in line for the metal detectors along with crews from different airlines and other passengers when I first noticed her. She stood by herself and didn't seem to know anyone else in line, though she wore the same burgundy-colored outfit as the rest of them. She stood two or three people ahead of me in line, and for the first couple of minutes, she blended in with the rest of the hubbub of the bustling airport. However, something about her drew my attention and I began to watch her.

read more

There are words that I don't like. There are phrases that don't sit right with me either and never have. I don't like the word cunt. I like the word pussy. I'd like to take a vacation and spend a week eating pussy. I've never wanted to spend one minute eating cunt. The two words "pussy whipped" bother me. First it's the connotation. "Pussy Whipped" means that a man has allowed a woman to get total control over his actions. He's been emasculated, not with a knife, with words and manipulation. There are other words and phrases that I don't like, but those give you the idea.

read more

It was tradition among our friends to camp out in Jake's backyard at least once every summer. Jake had a giant tent, with three rooms and two closets. The first time we ever set it up it took us two hours. Working under the hot summer sun, joking and sweating, we were confident and untouchable. We were seniors this year, nearing maturity, working out every chance we had. Needless to say, we were very in shape.

read more

The trip wasn’t long, it just seemed that way. Actually it was just a couple of hours. The jet engines roared as the pilot put them in reverse and the thrusters quickly slowed the plane down to taxi speed. The entire trip my mind was playing considerable scenarios over and over. My hands were sweaty and my stomach was churning so much I’d passed the in-flight meal.

read more

Thanks for all of the positive feedback on the first chapter of this story! Hopefully this chapter will give you a new perspective on these characters. The next chapter should be up as soon as possible. * Continued from Chapter One... Kellin: I buried my face in my hands, leaning my elbows on the small café table in the coffee shop by my house. This was where I ended up. After I stormed out of the house, my mom screaming at me from the kitchen, I drove in circles until I ended up here, hungry, upset, and out of gas.

read more

I was brushing my hair in the small dressing room of a unisex bathroom when my new father-in-law's brother walked in and strode up to the facilities behind me. A commode and a bit further away a urinal were attached to the wall. He stood in front of the commode. An impossibly loud ...Z-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-P... echoed in my ears as he opened his fly. This couldn't be happening.

read more

Chapter 2: Slut Mother I came home a little after one in the morning. I was partially tipsy and not in the best of moods as I made my way up the stairs. I suppose the fault is mine. I did not marry because I was in love but because Richard was filthy rich. My parents spoilt me and in Richard I saw a means of continuing this high standard. Admittedly, I have everything I ever wanted with the exception of two children that I did not. Don and Cindy are a by-product of my marriage; I do not hate them but simply tolerate them. At least we were well off enough to afford a nanny and therefore I did not have to soil my hands or spend too much time with them.

read more

At the age of 13, I was having wet dreams of kissing my best friend. I was far too naïve to know that girls could do anything other than kiss, and far too horny to cum from less than a kiss. My best friend Marissa was shaping up to be very beautiful.

read more