Your erotic stories

Sue walked into the bar feeling a little self-conscious. She nervously ran her hand through her shoulder length red hair, pulling on the curls slightly, and allowing the curls to spring back, looser than before. It had been a long time since she walked into a bar alone. That, and the fact that she felt both overdressed and underdressed. She was wearing the outfit he, her husband Michael, had set out for her—her black and white v-neck dress.

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I want to tell you a story. No, that's not right, I HAVE to tell you a story. It's not a true story. Well maybe it is, at least in parts. I'll let you decide. But I do have to tell it. The story is about Ed and Andrew, probably more Ed than Andrew. But you know, that may not be true either. You tell me. It's not the story you are expecting, but I think it is a pretty good one anyway. Ed, we'll start with her. Everyone called her Ed, but the name her parents blessed her with was Edwina.

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A memorable episode that happened some years ago, when, as a young man freshly out of university, I had moved into my very first apartment after living in a student dorm for years. It had started as any other Saturday. Since I had moved into this building, a couple of months earlier.

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I have always fantasized about anal sex. Even as a teenager, I experienced these urges to get fucked in the ass. There was something about the idea of submitting my body completely to my partner that drove me crazy. Unfortunately, it took years before I found someone who was interested in anal sex. Most of the guys I've dated have only been into "vanilla sex." So my interest in anal sex was reserved for the nights when I was alone and could touch and finger myself…

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It's Friday afternoon and when my final class of the day ends I race back to my office to see if the email has arrived. I've been distracted all day in anticipation of finding out whether or not it's finally going to happen tonight. Logging in, I go straight to my inbox. Nothing. With a frustrated sigh I lean back in my chair, a stack of homework papers on my desk in front of me just waiting for grades.

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Alison sat at her desk trying to concentrate on a report in front of her. So far the meaning of it had eluding her. She squirmed in her seat as she thought of the young secretary that had bought it in; Kia was her name. Alison was the head of a large company that specialized in beauty products and she was the sole owner of the successful business.

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Alright, so I last told you about Becky in Young Jason's Experiences. Becky had received a call from her friend Rhonda when we were together, and that planted the idea in my head that Becky would have some friends possibly as gorgeous as herself. After Becky and I parted ways, I felt so satisfied and I just hoped that she felt the same way. We both agreed that we would have to get together again, and the thought that she had enough fun to want more in the future made me feel great.

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She was wearing tangerine colored panties. Her legs were slightly separated giving me the opportunity of a tantalizing glimpse of her satiny inner thighs all the way up to her tangerine panties. As she waited for the subway train to get to her stop, her legs fluctuated with the jerky movements of the train, knees meeting then parting. All at once, a full crotch view held there breathlessly for long seconds.

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"What a week," she thought to herself as she drove down Interstate 30. Getting away was the best medicine she thought as she brushed her cheek with the back of her hand wiping away a tear. "Give us some space, that's what we need." She had called her friend and told her she would be driving up for an overdue visit. She was not expected until tomorrow but she had to go, get away from the phone and think. She figured that one night in a Hotel room alone would be all right. So she started out on the four hour drive.

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It's odd how you tell one car from another just by sound, but I knew it was Aunt Em when I heard the car pull into the driveway. She's not actually my aunt. She and Mom were college roommates and have been joined-at-the-hip best friends ever since. Her parents stuck her with the name Frances Marie. Everyone calls her Marie except Mom, who calls her Frankie. I couldn't say Aunt Frankie or Aunt Marie when I was young so she was always Aunt Em to me until recently. Now I call her Frankie, the way Mom does.

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