Your erotic stories

I first noticed him at the opening game of the high school basketball season. I had heard the team was going to be good this year, and wanted to see the top senior scorer. He wasn't the one, however, that caught my eye almost immediately. It was the other senior. The shorter, more rugged guard, who was quick and handled the ball with skill. I wondered who he was, so I casually asked a parent sitting next to me in the bleachers. They told me his name and gave me a little background information.

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This was so long ago that most of you readers out there were not even born yet. It was at a major mid-western university. I was what they called then a work-study student. That meant that in order to pay my way through school I had to work twenty hours a week in one of the university's departments. I had been assigned to the library. Our library had over five million volumes at that time, long before computers and online research.

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Angie drove home not expecting her husband to be there as usual, his job always kept him until the wee hours of the morning on the weekends. Hunter's was a manager and bartender at the local nightclub, which had often made Angie wonder how much of the young clientele he sampled as well. He never came home smelling like anything other than beer and smoke, but she wished just every now and then he would show her the same devotion he did his job. They had just had an argument over that very subject this morning.

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Sex with Laila was always dirty, but when she whispered in my ear mid-fuck that she'd be wanting my ass next, my pussy clutched itself around her hand so hard I expected her knuckles to come out bruised. I rode out my climax, my fingers lost in her raven-black hair as colours collided in my brain, my muscles flexing to the rhythm of her last strokes inside of me.

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My dear wife is a very busy lady and works long hours doing her job. However the harder she works the more money she earns to keep us in the style to which we have become accustomed. Her long working hours mean that sex between us is a rarity and unfortunately we do not make love that often. Sally, my wife has a very high-powered professional job, which entails traveling round local businesses giving advice and sorting out their I.T. problems.

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Standing alone in my room, in front of a full length mirror, I was busy admiring myself standing fully nude except for a pair of black thigh high stockings. I was fresh out of the shower, completely freshly shaven and my dark, shoulder length hair still warm from the hair dryer. My slender body was highlighted by my full C cups. They were perky as ever and my nipples had begun to harden just by standing there in the cool air with my thoughts.

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After finishing work for the day I headed over to mom's, where you had spent the day cooking with mom. Since dad passed you had been going over weekly to cook and hang out. I walked right in and heard laughter right away. Apparently you guys had gotten into some wine and we're both a little tipsy.

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Ancient Cures for Modern Problems PART ONE Tim's mouth dropped open. A ghost! A man in white chino pants and a new red Hecadock Junior College sweatshirt yelled instructions to students on the tennis court. He was about forty, six-foot-two, powerful build, blond hair, crewcut.

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The water from the shower rinsed away the last bit of shaving cream from my lower stomach and upper thighs. My nether region was shaved bald and completely smooth with the anticipation that I would later ask my wife to take me into her mouth. She preferred that I stay clean shaven on all areas that she enjoyed kissing, so I did my best to keep her happy.

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Standing at the mirror, Sandy brushed back the stray hair from her face. Then she stepped closer and frowned at the reflection looking back at her. When did the wrinkles appear? Had they always been so deep? Her friends told her she could pass for 40, but she knew they were just being nice. The mirror didn't lie, and it was telling her she looked every one of her fifty-one years.

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