Your erotic stories

It was another night at the club and I was having my usual good times with the men and women who had come in to watch. This night however was particularly noteworthy do to a cute couple who had come in that evening. I noticed this guy and girl who came up to me more than once when I was dancing on stage. I always noticed when a person came up more than once because it usually meant I had a pretty good chance of getting a nice table dance out of them.

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His hand pushed down against my spine, holding me flat to the mattress. As I turned my head to look round at him he thrust downwards, pressing me deeper into the springs. My heart thudded heavily. For a moment I was so intently aware of the air against my exposed skin, the shock of cool hitting wet that I shivered. It drew a groan from him. A low and desperate sound.

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There is something particularly humiliating about being arrested covered in cum, piss, and surrounded by big black men, especially when you were once a very well-off businessman with a simple insertion fetish. My whole private life had been exposed in a day, and it affected my professional life a great deal. My face was plastered all over the news for weeks. Obviously they weren't flashing my cum covered naked ass on the nightly news, but plenty of pictures surfaced on the Internet and were making their rounds. It was a huge scandal.

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I can still remember the first time I asked her if I could do it. I had always had a fascination for tasting my own semen, you see. My wife Megan had indulged me certain levels of satisfaction in this matter but refused to let me give her oral after sex. She said it was "gross".

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Have you ever wondered what your own cum tasted like? If you're like me, you have. Since I was a young man, I've been fascinated by it and wonder how it tasted. I would jerk off and tell myself that I was going to taste it. I couldn't wait to try it. The problem was that as soon as I came, I changed my mind.

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It was a cool, sunny day - the temperature being comfortable enough to turn off the air conditioning and let the quiet summer breezes flow through the windows and meander about the house. Susan had the house to herself and she moved about it as if to reclaim it for her own. The kids were off with friends at the lake and Tony was golfing. At last - no one asking her for something, not knowing where things were, nothing to break, spill, clean up, or wash. Freedom!

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Over the past few weeks my secretary Christine has been telling me about a girl she met at a dress boutique. She stopped there one night to do some shopping and met this girl Heather who worked there. Ever since then, Christine has been talking about her. You see Christine has this fantasy. She constantly wonders what it would be like turning a sweet innocent girl into our little plaything. Now we really didn't think that we'd ever meet anyone to make that fantasy come true, but it was nice dreaming about it.

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How I found bisexuality and a complete new world. I met her at the gym. We went there at roughly the same time a few days each week. After a couple of weeks we acknowledged each other with a nod and a smile, after another few weeks it was "hello," and after another week or so it was "how are you?"

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I hate it when they keep moving stuff around. When it comes to things like fish or produce, I find better quality at the local health food chain store. But the produce department here seems to like to move things around from week to week, I guess to create a more seasonally appropriate display. But I'm a pragmatic man, and I like to find things in the same place.

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My business partner Les and I have been mates since we were 13-year olds at school together. We lived a few doors from each other, we went on booze 'n' birds holidays to Spain together, we were best man at each other's weddings, and my wife and I are godparents to his daughter Becky. Stella and I weren't lucky enough to have kids of our own, but we only live a short distance from Les and his wife Irene, and Becky has almost been like our own daughter.

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