Your erotic stories

I wrote this as a love story, not a quick thrill. I have taken certain liberties with names and locations, because, it was told to me, by a very close friend. So read it if you enjoy a short story not necessarily one with sex and orgasms every five lines. Willy was a cop, daughter of a cop, a sister to cops and cousin to many cops. A few months before her thirty-sixth birthday, she was slim, standing five foot nine with the wide shoulders, flattish chest, and slim hips with the incredibly powerful thighs of a swimmer.

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When I met Don; my husband to be in five months I had been a widow of four years. Don had been a single father for nearly a year. I had a son age thirteen and Don had a son age fourteen. So when we met I think we both were looking for a partner and welcomed the idea of marriage for the second time.

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My wife and I were still in love after all our 20 years of marriage but as with most couples some of the spark had slowly dropped from the relationship, especially in the sex department. Now that might not be too bad if she'd been a nympho at the start but she'd always been a lot more reserved than I was. She certainly wasn't a prude - we'd had sex in every room in the house, in the yard, on the beach, in the car and a whole bunch more places but it was always 'normal' sex.

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Friday night. I am secured in a standing position, naked and spread eagled. My ankles are secured to a spreader bar, my hands to restraints attached to new hooks she has attached to the ceiling. My wife's mouth surrounds but does not touch my pulsating cock. I tighten my groin muscles to make contact. She pulls away. "Bad boy!" She reaches down for her riding crop and slaps mildly at my balls, stretched and separated by a leather cock ring.

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BEEP! The cell phone in Dave's pocket sounded, indicating an incoming message. He pulled the phone out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. The identifier on the message was his wife, Sally. It took a few seconds to load, so he knew it must be a picture message. When the picture came up on his phone, he nearly spit the mouthful of coffee across his desk in surprise.

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Ron knelt on the floor of his closet rubbing his crotch to relieve his erect nine-inch cock as he peered through the vent into the bathroom in the apartment below. From here he could see Susie Ellis in her shower using her shower massage as a vibrator to get herself off. Ron had discovered this vent one day while cutting into the panel in the back of the closet in an attempt to create a hidden compartment to hide his porn collection from his wife.

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"Hey, man, is it okay if I fuck yer wife?" I opened my eyes slowly and saw a fit young man with a turgid cock sticking out in front of him and an awkward smile on his face. From somewhere it registered that his name was Derrik. Hearing scuffling on the floor I focused still more and recognized my dirty blond wife being eaten out by a chubby black haired wench with a tattoo on her back.

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Just then, we heard the screen door slide open. I looked through the deck and saw his parents walking toward the pool – with towels! We moved apart just in time for Jeff's dad to ask if they could join us! ..... Jeff's hard cock was still in rubbing against my ass, when his parents came walking across the patio towards the pool deck. Jeff's dad told his mom to leave the lights off to keep the bugs away.

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Nanci, I know I wasn't supposed to tell you this. There is this sachet I keep with me, which will be part of the day when I'll finally meet you. I saw it being used in a movie and I plan to introduce it on the first day you'll give yourself to me. I will hide it, away from you prying eyes... on that particular day, I'll make sure we have all the time in the world, the phones will be off, the hotel room door locked, with that "Do not disturb" sign by the handle... alone, just you and me.

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I stepped from the shower and looked at myself in the full length mirror. Like most women, I think that my butt is too big, and my breasts too small. My hair is a pleasing shade of brown, thanks to the skills of my hairdresser. The triangle of hair between my legs has telltale streaks of gray. "Fast chance anyone will be seeing THAT anytime soon," I thought to myself. "I guess I could be a hell of a lot worse at 58."

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