Your erotic stories

Dear Husband Hello dear husband, she said, never looking back. Could you come over here and take that down from the shelf for me? She pointed to a bottle of bleach on a high shelf. It wasn't his fault that George had just gone out to the hardware store, telling Jim, his teenage helper from down the street, that he'd be back in an hour, maybe two. Why don't you straighten up the workbench in the basement? he'd told the boy.

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I knew before it was over that I had to write this story, to cement the memory in my mind. To somehow make this surreal experience that once resided only in my darkest fantasies even more real. This was a once in a lifetime experience that's simply too good to let fade with time. So here's my story...

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It's the feel, I think, more than the appearance. Yes I'm interested in how they look, but I am more interested in the touch. Sure, the cut, the style, how much is covered and how much is revealed are important, but nowhere near as much as the sensations I receive. I get so aroused by simply holding the garment in my hands that sometimes it's nearly impossible for me to put it down.

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Even today anal is still a bit of a taboo, more with the older generations then the younger but most girls will simply say "No" to anal and that'll be that, which is a great shame as I think anal is probably the pinnacle of all sexual acts and a sign that a couple love each other enough to do it correctly.

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Jenna was SO EXCITED!! Her freshman year of college had just ended last week but the week before that her roommate had let her know about an amazing opportunity. PARIS - LONDON - ROME- She couldn't believe it really. It was a summer study abroad trip and one of the students had canceled at the last minute.

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I stormed out the door, but before I slammed it I said "You can just stay in the room and pout if you want to. We paid all the money to come to this ocean-front resort, and I am going to the beach!" Lisa is my gay girlfriend, and she has been acting bitchy lately. I have about had enough. She is 22 which is technically an adult, but she can be very childish. I am ten years her senior, but before you accuse me of robbing the cradle let me point out that she seduced me.

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Hot, parched, in need of at least a beer, I crutched into the darkened bar and though the blue haze of cigarettes and reek of days old beer. I was surprised that it would be so busy at nearly three in the afternoon. Maybe everyone else was thirsty I thought. The stool scraped across the floor in a loud symphony of un-tuned instruments. I rested my hips on it then leaned my crutches against the edge of the bar.

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My back was killing me by two o'clock. At eighteen I'm in good shape but, Damn! My sister has a lot of crap! Some how it's become my job to move it all. My dad would help, but at sixty his back doesn't need the strain. And he's working on the family barbecue grill.

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All he could think about was her ass. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and her pussy had provided him more pleasure than most men could only dream about in a lifetime. But he couldn't stop thinking about her asshole, that sweetly puckered opening, so tightly closed, so vulnerable. What was wrong with him?

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My name is Pete Smith and most people would describe me as a fairly normal guy. I am aged 35 and presently single. I am of medium build and not too fat, not really handsome but also not ugly. Most people would look at me and think I was an average type of happy go lucky guy. I work long hours doing night shifts on my own as a security guard in a large building full of admin offices for a large multi national company.

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