Your erotic stories

She knelt by the front door, waiting for him to return. He had called about 30 minutes ago, informing her that he would be home soon and instead of her usual greeting, he wanted her naked, kneeling with her head down, hands clasped in front of her, when he returned home. After he had called she had undressed as she was told, darting into the bathroom for a quick spin in the mirror, she liked looking at herself, she’d worked extremely hard to get the body that she had now.

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There's a financial newspaper on my desk and it says that Georgie Kalvos is dead. I'm half wishing he's doing a stint in hell and half hoping he's got plenty of good looking women down there to keep him company - yes, and an occasional bottle of ouzo to slake his thirst too. It's been many years since I last saw him and if I'm going to remember him I'll remember him as he was. A middle aged man with the smile of a boy, the build of a gorilla, the manners of a courtier and the morals of a shark.

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"No! For the last time, will you shut-up about this?" Rachel was scowling at her boyfriend who was laying in bed beside her. Dan still retained a mildly smug expression after their sex which had finished some minutes ago, although the truth was she had faked her orgasm. She wasn't proud of that but Dan always liked to make a big deal about making her climax and it was far easier to let him feel this way. Like many women she didn't often orgasm through penetration.

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She may not be a virgin, but at this particular moment, Cyrene definitely felt it. What her friend had been thinking, bring her to a place like this she will never know. All around her were people doing, in some form or another, the most sinful acts of fornication she had ever witnessed. It was like a sexual show-and-tell, with everyone watching and joining in on everyone else's show.

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Alana's hands skimmed over her smooth skin, following the gentle curves and contours of her body. She shivered as she touched her inner thighs, moving them apart under the covers, then sliding one hand up to her shaven pussy. As she began stroking her clit, feeling the sensation of pleasure, she thought, 'Damn, I wasn't going to do this'.

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It started out as just another Saturday night – me, Terry, Jezza and a few other lads going out into Luton for a few beers and a bit of fun. Then Terry mentioned some gay celebrity he'd seen mincing about on TV before he came out, and we were into the usual shared rant about how queers were taking over, and soon it'd be compulsory to take it up the arse.

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Pleasantly surprised when answering the door, but instead of inviting her in, Shawn joined the euphoric teenager on the front deck. "You look happy," he smiled, eying the tight microskirt, enjoying the sight of luscious tan legs. "Ah, that's right! Today was the big day, wasn't it? Live up to expectations?"

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Like most young girls, my fancy has always been that of older men. I am unsure whether its the experience or just the maturity that makes them more appealing than most guys my age, but I have found that most older men tend to flirt more with the younger girls as well. Out of all I have met though, there has only been one to make me weak with just a simple wink.

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"Do you want to stop at Subway for lunch?" "Yeah, I'm really hungry." Stacy and I were driving back toward the office after a meeting on the other side of town. We were in different divisions but had worked together on a few projects. Stacy was a 24-year-old strawberry blond who had a cute face behind her somewhat nerdy glasses. She usually wore conservative business attire that made it hard to tell much about her figure;

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Goldie couldn't believe it. There she was, scuffing down a back road on South Goddamn Georgia with her disabled car half a mile back. It was getting dark, it was colder than the South had any right to be, her cell phone was broken, and there wasn't a soul in sight. Damn him anyway, him and all the shit he'd put her through over the past five years.

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