Your erotic stories

My story took place while I was at a business trip, giving seminars for my company last summer. I had been on the road for nearly three weeks and the closest thing to sex I had was a date with my fingers during a hot telephone call with my husband back home. I had never been away from Marc this long before, and I looked forward to our nightly phone calls to cheer me up.

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Danielle and I were making out on the couch. I had just unbuttoned her blouse and was about to lower my mouth to her braless breasts. She has tits to die for, and I never get tired of looking at them. Just as I got my lips on one of her nipples....the phone rang. "Shit!" "Let the machine get it." I sucked it into my mouth, just as the answering machine spewed out this very familiar voice. Danni jumped up and grabbed for the phone. I had drool on my chin.

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I think I just might be the best peach picker in Virginia. Well, in Rockingham County at least. And that isn't just me boasting. That's what Brother Jeb said all the time I was picking peaches for him. And Mr. Howell said that to me too. More than once he said that. I've heard both men say that, in the peach business, it's getting the first fruit of the season to market before anyone else does that can mean the difference between a good season and a break-even or bad season.

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I didn't know what to do with myself. I had pottered around at home for a while but was still annoyed at Andrew for being such a pain. Well no really, for being so boring. I had decided that I would treat myself to a day looking round the shops. It had been ages since we had had sex of any kind and he was always so busy these days.

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I've always had a desire to try anal sex. I don't know what's caused this, but ever since I first saw it in a porno when I was a teen I knew I wanted to do it at least once. It's always seemed like a very intimate thing. It takes a lot of faith from a woman to allow a man to do something like that since it's so easy for him to hurt her. And he needs respect and honor that. This is not something where you just flip her over and ram it home. It has to be worked up to and taken slowly. For me, it is the ultimate in trust.

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Lying here beside you I watch the moon play across your face as you sleep. Would that make you cringe self-consciously? I know it would. Perhaps I will tell you in the morning. I do love to make you squirm.

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Rounding a bend in the unsealed narrow country road, I was disappointed to see that the last few hundred meters were uphill. Weary from our third consecutive day hiking on the southern Turkish coast, I grabbed Jack's hand, trying to get his help pulling me forward. I felt him wrapping his fingers around mine, and upping the pace a little which was assisting me to move.

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I walked over to where she was standing, and she turned to me and took my hands in hers. She looked into my eyes and softly said, "I would like very much to kiss you, Dear. Would Diane like Georgia to kiss her?" Although it wasn't entirely unexpected, I wasn't really prepared for it. I was surprised when, without hesitation, I took a step forward so we were almost nose to nose with our mouths about two inches apart. We each leaned forward slightly, and our lips met very gently.

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I hate labels. I don't consider myself gay. Hell, I don't even think of myself as bi, either. Slightly bent? Straight with a slight curve? Fuck if I know because I love sex with women. Really, I do, except I've had a dick or two inside my mouth, too. So, what does that make me? Before Todd, I never thought much about it. Best to think of myself as a horny bastard and leave it at that.

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... You're kidding me. ... Nope, dead serious. ... So . . . I've been flirting with a girl for . . . like . . . 45 minutes and she could drive here in under an hour. ... Yup. How about that? ... Gee. What are the odds. I mean, the World Wide Web implies . . . wide . . . world.

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