Your erotic stories

Carly Adams walked her two children to the end of the cul-de-sac to catch the school bus. Her two young daughters, aged 10 and 12, had the good fortune of inheriting their mother's striking good looks. Having recently turned 37, the slim and sexy soccer mom was constantly mistaken for a much younger woman. Very petite, barely topping 5 feet tall, her jet black hair was styled in a classic concaved bob cut, parted on the side, long side bangs flowing down to curl erotically just under her jaw line.

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It was at the village fete that I saw her. I had just emerged from the main tent, after judging the sponge cake competition -- a solemn duty for the parish vicar's wife -- and there she was, 20 yards away from me, paying for a go at the coconut shie. She looked even slimmer than I remembered her as a teenager. I thought at first that her short, spiky hair had turned prematurely grey;

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I'd finally left my husband and my lackluster marriage. What I wanted now, more than anything, was to make up for lost time, especially in the sex and pleasure department. To this end I was sure my friend Vicki would be a good resource. She had long urged me to get out of my marriage, tantalizing me with details of the varied and lush sex she led with her new boyfriend, Bob.

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"Freefall," Rebecca Quinn thought to herself as the elevator lowered her and her Husband down to the lobby of her office building so they could go have lunch together. "Freefall...That's just what my life feels like right now," she had to stifle a perverse chuckle at the irony of the comparison between the elevator and her place in life. Rebecca had been married to Neal Quinn for almost 22 years. The first dozen or so had been decent, but there was no mistake the two had drifted apart for the last decade and Rebecca had been having an affair on and off with a man from her office building for past year.

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Most of my lady friends are strictly heterosexual and really enjoy having me eat their pussies and whatever else we do. Most of them have also heard rumors that a woman can eat a pussy better than a man. There is a lot of truth to that; generally speaking, a lesbian or bi-sexual woman can eat a pussy better than a man, for various reasons that I am not going to go into just now. That is just generally speaking though.

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You all know my best friend Georgie. We've been great mates, and occasional lovers, for many years now. Georgie is married to a great friend of ours, Chas. Chas and I have had many wonderful sessions together alone, and with others. He is VERY kinky! Anyway...enough of the details. Chas emailed me at the estate agency one day and told me that Georgie had been asking lots of questions about anal sex. She'd had it a few times during our wonderful threesomes and moresomes, but hadn't ever really let go and butt fucked herself crazy.

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She was gorgeous. Oceanic gaze peered from behind thin silver frames of which she wore only because she was afraid of contacts. She stood at the height of five foot five, long raven hair pulled back away from her pale smooth face in a pair of red chopsticks. Finally her voluptuous frame was wrapped in all kinds of fabrics of flow yet B-cup breasts were pulled tightly together just above a silk ivory sash. Her colors today were of deep reds and blues with bare minimum skin exposed...and I got to see it all.

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You and I had been friends for quiet some time, sharing a common bond in subversive, dumb comedies, quirky cartoons and a general agreement that laughing a lot is the best way to spend out your life to zero in this world. We met through our jobs awhile back; your flashing eyes and warm smile put me at easy the very first day. Finding out that we had so much in common had been a bonus and so it became very easy for us to fall into a comfortable friendship.

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Invocation: Blessed be Akana, she whose name is Beautiful Cruelty, Terrible Pleasure, Sublime Pain. Edriel was so thoroughly absorbed in the pornographic scroll that he didn't notice the high priestess until she planted her foot squarely in the middle of a particularly delectable picture. "Oh, Mistress Sekba!" He snapped his head up at her, blushing as he stared past the red linen loincloth and up to the firm, small breasts, bound perfunctorily with a strip of black silk.

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It was raining heavily when the auto stopped outside the apartment that Sameera was staying in. Despite the protection provided by the auto rickshaw she was completely drenched and her clothes were clinging to her body like second skin. She knew that the contours of her breasts would be visible and hence she had the money ready in her hand. She did not want to give the auto driver an opportunity to ogle and well, get ideas. As the auto sped off, she entered inside the apartment and the first thing she did was to kick off her sandals.

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