Your erotic stories

There was a light drizzle covering his windshield and clouding his view of the new dance club that had just opened in the industrial park. When he first saw the signs, he thought that maybe they were adding yet another peeler parlour to a small city that was already over run with strip bars and exotic dance clubs. The rumour was though, that this place was definitely not one of those, but a place that was much different and new to this town.

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I love touching my pussy. I love the feeling of my most personal effect in my hand. I love bringing myself to orgasm by playing with my pussy. I love the feeling of being in charge of my own happiness. I love feeling my silken gift at my fingertips, and the feeling of intimacy that it provides for me. I've also had to learn to love all of those things. I've come to love them over the last several years, as masturbation is my only true sexual outlet right now.

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"You could have at least waited for him to come off the operating table." "I couldn't . . . (huff) . . . help it . . . (puff). I think we may have overimplanted the scent. Come over here and . . ." "My God, I think you're right. God, god, finish with it. I must . . . as well. And we can see how well he can take an enhanced size. You're no . . ."

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This is the story of the first and only man I've been with sexually. I had reached early middle age and found myself horny all the time and up late jacking off to internet porn. I especially found myself watching a lot of blow job scenes. I don't get enough or very good head from the wife, and I would occasionally cruise craigslist thinking jeez it would be easy to get a guy to give me an NSA blowjob.

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Dan was alone. After many years of a very happy marriage he lost his beloved wife Mary to cancer. He had taken early retirement in order to look after in the last few months and now he missed her dreadfully. Eighteen months had passed since the funeral and Dan had completed just about every bit of decorating and repair outstanding around the house, including the replacement of the shed and the building of a new summerhouse.

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"I'm sorry, what was that you just said, Mrs. Pettington?" What a tiresome woman. I had just now been distracted from listening to her by the way she snapped her fingers at Kisula and then gave him a distasteful look when he refilled her coffee cup. "I said, Mr. Woolston, that I hardly think we need worry about these rumblings from the tribal huts. England has held this protectorate in Tanzania since the war, and we will do so as long as the London cafés need their coffee."

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Bound to cum and cum again. I was tied spread eagle on the bed; I had been allowed to cum, but only after three hours of being teased to near climax and then stopping just short of climax. I can't take it that long, but I did not have a choice. After I climaxed she did not stop, she kept trying to milk my limp penis.

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It all happened because of Lenny. We were at a party in Westwood, in the late '70s, at a house right next to UCLA that was rented by six coeds, which meant at any given time there were at least fifteen or twenty people there. We partied hard, drinking beer and smoking pot. The sexual revolution was in full gear, and free love was just the way it was. "Nobody owns anybody, Man."

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"How long is it since you last had sex?" Sarah asked Rachel. "Too long," Rachel replied. "It's a couple of years since I split up from my boyfriend, and I haven't gone out with anyone since then for long enough to end up sleeping with them." "Well that's not a problem," Sarah said. "Just go out to a club, find a guy, take him home, let him fuck you. Easy."

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"Squirt your semen on my belly until it covers my belly button, and runs down my sides." When my lover wants to have fun she strips down to black bikini bottoms, and entertains me with a seductive topless belly dance as a preliminary to our games. I don't know if you've ever seen a woman do a good belly dance while fondling her erect nipples, but it's a total thumbs up.

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