Your erotic stories

Alexis opened the door in little more than a sheer, silk robe, her full breasts peeking out of the loosely tied bodice. The rotund maintenance man seemed not to notice the tight cleavage peeking up at him, milky skin sneaking out from behind the pale silk. Alexis pouted to herself as she turned, leaving him in the open door. "Shut the door behind you. The man alarm console is by the back door, a secondary one in the master bedroom."

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Rachel Salvatora took a sip of her Chardonnay trying to ignore the turbulence that was wreaking havoc on both the flight and her stomach. She had been in her seat for an hour and was growing uncomfortable. Lynn had fallen asleep on her shoulder and she didn't want to wake up the young blonde woman. Rachel's sky blue skirt was running up her leg slowly but surely as Lynn moved her leg while she slept. Rachel wondered if the movement was intentional.

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We were in Rob's truck, heading for his uncle's hunting cabin in the mountains. It wasn't hunting season, so it was a good time to go up there for a weekend just to enjoy nature. Of course, we brought Mary Rose and Theresa along because nature is so much more enjoyable when you are fucking in it.

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One of the things I enjoy about my job as a marketing representative is that it allows me to get out of the office and travel. I've never liked being stuck behind a desk, though when my two kids were young, travel was a bit of a problem. Their mother left us when they were four and seven, so I had to be both father and mother from that point on. That made out of town travel very difficult, but I needed my job to make a good living for us.

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Unlike a lot of stories in this site that I'm sure are total fiction, this one is mostly true. The names and parts of the story have been fictionalized. I've been a trucker for 20 years now and recently had a sexual experience I'd like to share. Long distance trucking is a solitary life and there isn't much sex when the little lady is thousands of miles away back home.

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I flew into Miami International on a typical south Florida day. As I headed for the car rental desk I thought about all I had heard about South Beach. I was jolted back to reality by the clerk welcome and I handed over my papers. He quickly told me my car would be around shortly. As we completed the necessary paperwork he said there she is. He proceeded to offer his hopes for a good trip and also told me if there was anything I needed during my stay to not hesitate to call and gave me his card.

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In April last year, I was booked into the Old Bridge Hotel, Huntingdon. It was a business trip. Two days; three nights, visiting four companies in the north of Cambridgeshire. It was a nice country hotel, just off the A14 and the main street of the town, near the Godmanchester Bridge, with a U-shaped arrangement of rooms.

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I had seen Caroline around campus before and occasionally out at the bars at night. She was a total knockout, a red-haired beauty with big brown eyes that would melt you if you stared at them too long. There was something about her that looked so vulnerable, so innocent. She had a cute little nose, just slightly dotted with freckles, high cheek bones, beautiful skin, and round full lips.

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As a new college professor, I was still getting used to being back on a campus. I had spent a few years after graduating in private industry before deciding to go back for my doctoral studies. During those studies, I knew that my calling lied in teaching and started looking for a university position.

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The rain poured down in sheets across my windshield and hammered like a tinsmith on the thin roof of my cheap used car. I leaned forward on the steering wheel, driving slowly, my wipers going as fast as possible, as futile as the attempt was. An approaching set of headlights blinded me enough so that I had to hit the brakes until he passed. I flipped him off with a grumble, even though I knew he couldn't see me.

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