Your erotic stories

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Part of the 'Butt Monkey' series of stories by Robert Furlong === I arrived at my office the next day to find an envelope on my desk with my name written on it in neat, if rather florid, handwriting. It read "Robert" which was slightly odd because everyone at work calls me Rob.

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I guess I didn't know what I needed to set me free. When it finally came, it wasn't really like being forced, or made to give in to his desires. In fact, the whole night was more like living out a dream; it was strange, a little scary, and always threatening to come apart, exposing itself either as false or worse, as real and inescapable. But, it was the most difficult sexual adventure we've ever taken together, and I think it's what allows our marriage to work, as strange as that sounds.

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I left you a note posted at the door stating: "Strip down naked and meet me in our back room." From the back room, I could hear you laugh as you read it, but I smiled and hoped you would comply. I heard you, first removing your shoes and letting them drop loudly on the floor. The ensuing silence made me think that you might be taunting me, but I let out a sigh as I heard you mumble something about your pants.

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Dan looked up at the big rental van as it pulled in at the house on the next street over. His back yard faced that home's back yard, there was a five foot tall board fence between the two lots. He spent a lot of time out in his own overly large back yard, keeping the grass and decorative plants in close to perfect condition. The other home had been vacant for several months. The sweet old lady that had lived there had passed away, so things there were getting to be on the unkempt side.

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It was a cold day. A light dusting of snow covered the sidewalk as I walked huddled over to keep warm. My eyes focused on the ground so I wouldn't miss something that would hurdle me downward. Stuffed in my pockets for warmth, my hands remained cold. I was going to be late for work - again. I had left dirty dishes in the sink so I could stare at some new pictures of amputee men for a few minutes before leaving.

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It was a hot Saturday night in the summer of 1971 and the bathhouse was throbbing. A guy I knew from school at San Francisco State, had suggested the visit after we'd struck out with a couple of secretaries at Perry's Bar on Union Street. They'd teased us right up until closing time, and then given us the slip. We found ourselves on the sidewalk as the bar closed, high and horny.

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Prologue The Right Hon Mrs Grace de Vere Cobblehaugh sighed deeply. Mrs Cobblehaugh (pronounced "cobbler") was not happy. Yet why should this be? The heiress to the vast de Vere estate had every right to be content with her lot. After all, she was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a handsome, dashing husband. It was a glorious summer day in 1895, and the lawn outside her holiday cottage stretched down to a pretty little river.

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Mom was laying back in the pillows, leaning back on her elbows. I stood and gazed at her sexy loveliness; prefect body, sexy and nude, my mother. Lying there in the soft glow of the candlelight she looked like a classic Playboy centerfold, come to life; perfect. "So," she finally smiled seductively at me, "Is my handsome, studly son ready to actually fuck his own mother's juicy, wet pussy?" she grinned wickedly, her eyes dropping to my hard cock, bouncing with eager anticipation.

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Miranda walked from the restroom hallway back into the noisy, smoke filled dance club. As she turned the corner she glanced to her left and came to a sudden stop, eyes wide. The table in the corner, where all the rich girls from the college had been sitting was now nearly empty.

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The door opens...she is overwhelmed. It is perfect, right down to the roses on the circular table. The door closes and the fantasy begins. "Close your eyes," he whispers. A pop of a champagne cork, the soft splash of liquid being poured into glasses. A cool flute of champagne is pressed into her hand. He is behind her, arms encircling, lips on her neck. The mood is sensuous, exciting; the moment like an assignation.

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