Your erotic stories

I stared at my computer screen in awe. I never had even considered the idea of a threesome, but I was getting wet and squirming in my office chair. Looking at the occupied chairs behind me, I was relegated to squirming - there was no way I could sneak my fingers under the waistband of my pants to take care of the tingling feeling between my labia.

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There I was in the kitchen, washing my hands, when I heard the phone ring. I didn't know where my wife, Jill was. I had been out working on the truck. She had gotten mad at me, because we weren't going to spend the day together. I needed the truck for work the next day. Well, back to the story. I picked up the phone and was about to say hello, when I heard my wife say, "Hello." I thought to myself that this was good.

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"Buenos dias, Hermosa" She whispered to me over the phone. I grin without trying and ask her when her flight leaves. She replies in a few hours. I reply, "Hurry..." Our call ends. Los Angeles will be clocking 90 degrees today, so my phone tells me. From my bed, the morning sun pours in and the sky is crystal clear. The makings of a perfect day. It will be perfect.

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Jude had gotten through the second set at The Spot in Chelsea the same way he had gotten through all of Logjam's concerts in the last two decades—riding a high on the music, the roar of the crowd, beer, and poppers. If the proportion of beer and poppers had been relentlessly creeping up over the last fifteen years, it had been too gradual for Jude to notice it, or too scary for him to acknowledge it.

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My wife and I have always had a great sexual relationship and we have been able to tell each other our likes and thoughts about sex very freely. Lately she has been hinting about a bi-curious side she feels she has had for a while. She knows I would be supportive and while making love she has fantasized about another woman being there, and has been very turned on while playing at this.

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Michael was in the kitchen when she came home. His work hours let him get there an hour before she did, on average, a chance to get his directed chores done before she came home on the days she required him at her house. He was naked, except for the soft black manacles that encircled each wrist and ankle, because that's how she wanted him whenever he was in the house. He had just finished washing the floors and was putting away the bucket when Cheryl came through the door.

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Sebastian could tell that she was upset, but was not quite sure if he should attempt to console her, or for that matter, exactly how he would go about approaching her with an offer of comfort. He had seen the despondent expression she had been wearing on her face all night and thought that she looked like she might be about to cry when she excused herself from the table and left the banquet hall to go upstairs to her hotel room. He had quickly said goodnight to his dining companions at the next table and followed her to the lobby, not totally sure of what he was intending to do if, and when, he caught up with her.

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As a newly appointed detective assigned to a special police operation Georgina was less effective than the effect she had on men, which was electric. It wasn't just a pair of long legs or the tiny waist emphasizing large breasts, it was more than that, it was the innocent look upon her face when listening to them. She had a way of tilting her head to one side looking intently into a mans eyes as though he were the only man in the world and what he had to say was important. Sitting in his car with her Sergeant, Angelo was getting the full treatment.

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The identity of the man who purchased the mansion on the hill that rose above any landmarks for a mile around was a mystery to every resident of Langley Street, the street that led motorists and pedestrians alike to the private estate and the foot of its sweeping front drive. As much as rumor could provide, the new owner was a young man in his early twenties, obviously a man who had recently come into good fortune, either by his own merit or by luck.

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"Okay, that's all for today, make sure you read the assignment for Monday, and bring your paper revisions." John said, standing up at his desk. The class of college freshman quickly filed out. John was just out of grad school, and he had aspirations of being a novelist but the need to pay bills forced him into teaching, at least for now.

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