Your erotic stories

"Here. Put these on." Beth ordered. Looking a bit uncertain, Amy took the white, meshy costume Beth proffered. "A bet's a bet, Amy." I informed the confused looking little blonde as I reached out to take my own black costume from Beth's arms. USC's loss to Texas had put Amy and me into this predicament.

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This story was written a bit differently. I wanted to tell the story from all three perspectives, and do it in a unique way. Each break represents a change in perspective from one character to another, which will last through all but the last section of the story. This may seem weird at first, but read and you might begin to notice why I did it.

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Secrets are one of the things that I love about being married. Some of the best secrets that my wife and I share with each other are, of course sexual ones, and that makes them special. I guess we're both pretty average looking and no one would ever guess that we are as intensely sexual about some things. And that includes some of our closest friends.

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Hi! My name is Tara Zelino, and I love cum. Yes, you read that right. I love cum. I love the look of it, the taste of it, the feel of it. Now don't get me wrong – I'm not a nymphomaniac. I don't love dick, just cum. If I could have cum without dick, I would be perfectly happy. But the fact of the matter is, I love cum.

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This adventure deals with my only bi-sexual experience with a woman, which I will remember always as wonderful. One of the most important things you learn as a Realtor is the importance of a Title Officer as they can make your job much easier. Once licensed I sought out a local Title Company and immediately became fast friends with Chrissie, their Office Manager. We had much in common, as her mother was Asian and her father Caucasian.

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Several years ago I attended a small southern college. Our fraternity house was adorned with a statue of our mascot and a favorite campus prank was to paint it. It was general knowledge on campus that those caught would be shaved bald and though the mascot was often painted, rarely was the culprit apprehended. The alternative was calling the police and even though it amounted to only malicious mischief, a criminal record was a criminal record.

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I had wandered into the bookshop to kill time. My appointment with Carol at the employment agency was for 11.30am and I had caught the eight o'clock train in from the lake. For once it arrived on time. The employment agency was on the second floor of the building and I found the bookshop at street level. I had an hour to fill in before I had to go, up so I thought I'd look for a book I had been after for some time, The Mycenaeans by Lord William Taylour.

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Addie anchored her naked arms on the edge of the sink with her cute, round behind aimed straight up at me. She pushed her feet back just a bit, spread her legs and dug in. "I'm as ready as I can be, handsome. Do it." "Okay, but I warn you, I've never done this before," I responded nervously.

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Shelby took a deep breath and tried to work the knot out of the muscles in her neck, again. She hated this, every time life got stressful, it manifested itself in a sore neck, tight shoulder and back, gimping her up from days. No amount of ibuprofen helped. A massage would, but, according to her current financial situation, there was no way she could afford the luxury of a professional massage.

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Jamie peered over the lip of his cup, the sweet taste of the mocha frappe still clinging to his own lips, as he scanned the sprinkling of customers that were scattered about in the small cafe. A boring pair reading their papers and magazines. Two others ensnared in a heated embrace. Another writing busily. All bored him. But there was one man, hunkered over his own cup, brow furrowed in concentration, who caught Jamie's curiousity.

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