Your erotic stories

I had just turned 35 – and not at all unhappy about that. I didn't have a lover, and that was fine too – I've never been desperate that way; I can be happy all by myself. So when my gay and lesbian health clinic was having one of its almost chronic fund raisers, and I was asked to volunteer for the date auction, I smiled brightly said sure, I'd be glad to.

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I had been chatting with a guy, lets call him Kurt, online for a little bit. He seemed nice and chill and was into me being a bit nervous and wanting to go at my own pace. I'd been fucked in the ass twice before and had experiences that made me want to try more. I also really enjoyed playing with toys. My first two times were with guys that were smaller and I wanted to try moving up in size.

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They were sitting on the couch in his room, him laid across her lap and her scratching his head. Who knows what they were talking about; hours had passed by but time seemed to have stopped. Somehow, they got on the subject of muscle kinks. "I don't know what it is but I get the worst knots in my back. Maybe I'm sleeping on it wrong...Wish I hadn't missed that massage appointment!" she said.

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I walked down the hill on the west side Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown, crossing the C and O canal, and stopped outside the window of a small women's boutique. The window displays indicated a variety of fine clothing and accessory items, immaculately arranged and appointed, so I entered. A small bell attached to the door jingled, announcing a visitor.

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Lily Carter was a perfectly ordinary nineteen-year-old girl with a reasonably ordinary life. She was just starting out at her local college, studying hard to get the grades to move out of her town. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to leave, but she could dream, at least. She spent most of her free time at home, taking care of her mother.

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Living with Paige was pure hell for Ally. Every moment she was around was like slow, agonizing torture which Ally often likened to having dull screws driven deep into her skull while having her heart ripped violently and awkwardly from her chest by hateful vultures. Well, maybe not that bad, but it definitely sucked in the worst possible way.

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I enjoy other men's wives. I enjoy single women too but there's something special about a married one. Of course, it's that taste of forbidden fruit, knowing that when she opens her arms -- and legs -- to you she is breaking those sacred vows and you are taking something that was promised to another man alone. The only thing I can't decide is whether it's better if the husband knows or not.

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Richard: What follows are our thoughts we would like to share with you about a subject that is directly related to our personal relationship, we are swingers. We swing as a married couple. We have been active swingers for several years now and enjoy it very much. We understand that it's not for everyone, in fact, I guess it's something that very few couples in society would ever consider participating in. We understand that!

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Several pictures of her were tucked into the sides of the mirror over his dresser. Most were school pictures, and one was of the two of them together, their arms wrapped around each other, both of them smiling at the camera. My hand, holding the brush that I had picked up from amidst the clutter on his dresser, stopped in mid-air as I peered at those pictures.

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It's funny how things that are so horrible when you first encounter them become normal and even desirable. Days flowed into weeks since that night when I first developed a taste for blood. God, it was revolting – at first. Then it became bearable. Then I found myself growing restless, fucking whomever Zeph wanted me to fuck, doing whatever he wanted me to do just as long as I got to taste him when it was over. What a horrible addiction – but I needed it. I needed that sweet metallic taste on my lips.

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