Your erotic stories

"Happy Fucking Birthday to me!" I thought to myself. If only I knew at that moment just how happy my fifty-second birthday was truly going to be. But as I took my regular afternoon jog through Meyer Park in the northwest suburbs of Houston, Texas; my mind was a swirling mess of self-pity, loneliness and sexual frustration. My husband and I had been divorced for nearly four years, all three of my children were either grown and gone or away visiting their father for the summer and I hadn't gotten a good piece of ass in what seemed like decades.

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It was the first day of fall, and fall was a word Ben liked to link to another visual delight, a woman's panties. Before the night was over, he would learn more about the opposite of the word fall, rise. He would experience a new link between a woman's panties and rise, as in the repeated rise of his cock.

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John watched her over the top of his drink. She was Christine or Chris as she liked to be called, the best looking woman in the office. This was another after works drink that was supposed to help create a better bonding session in the office, but was in reality a chance to get drunk. Chris was a terrible flirt once she had a few drinks. She would flirt outrageously with the guys but stop short of letting them do anything more than snog her.

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I woke up to her scratching my back softly. I loved that feeling. "Are you awake?" she asked me. "No," I moaned. My head was killing me. We'd been out late the night before. Several glasses of wine with dinner and then a few more drinks with friends. My head was aching and I was tired but I could feel my spirit rising as she traced her nails across my back.

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I had never considered myself a submissive woman in any facet of life – until five years ago, when I learned that in order to get the kind of sex I secretly craved, I needed to submit myself totally. I was working at a public relations firm at the time. I had had an awful day-long meeting with representatives of the organisation I was commissioned to work for. They had been totally unrealistic about what was achievable in salvaging their company's reputation.

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Chapter One Pamela watched the pick-up truck pull into her drive and wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron; her hired hand was here. Her husband had passed away three years ago and she had milked their prize herd all by herself as well tended the farm's crops. For all her hard work she'd finally managed to make the last payment on the small farm and this year opted to hire a full-time summer employee.

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Perhaps some of you say that this story is false, but things happened just the way I'm gonna tell you about. I don't know why I share this story of my life with all of you, maybe because I'm tired of keeping it so far. I first had a boyfriend when I was 18 and I was probably the most naïve boy on this earth. Can't say that I was sure of what exactly was supposed to happen on the first night we slept together.

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I don't think I will ever forget that weekend I spent at Meg's. It was the beginning of summer, and I had a couple of days to kill in the city before flying back home. Meg had decided to stay and work for the duration of the summer at the museum, and so she'd rented this small one bedroom apartment downtown. It was the coziest little place you ever saw, and we both had a grand old time decorating it;

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Beth Wilson arrived home late. It was 1:30 AM, and she was beat. She thought to herself, I'd better check on Nancy to make sure she's OK. Beth peeked in Nancy's room and stood in the doorway dumfounded. She saw Nancy, another young woman, and a grown man all sleeping together! Obviously, none of them had heard her come in.

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Bob adored his daughter and there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. So, when Liza begged if Alice, her best friend, could live with them, Bob agreed. It wasn't odd. Alice's parents were going through an ugly divorce so it wasn't unusual for him to agree to help. Alice was her sensitive friend going through a difficult time. It made sense.

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