Your erotic stories

One Tuesday morning, Linda Harris, a thirty-five year old mother of two, entered her kitchen with the intention of making herself some breakfast. Filling up the kettle with water, she placed it on the stove and took out her favourite teacup from beside the counter. It was another sunny morning; from here she had a good view of her suburban backyard, seeing her previously washed blankets flutter on the clothesline from where she had hung them. The clock on the kitchen wall announced the time as 8:24PM.

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Long day at work, she thought to herself, taking a swig of diet coke and placing it back into the cupholder. Road signs, stop lights, and pedestrians blurred past her as she drove home. She was already planning out her evening, starting by taking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and immediately making herself a very tall scotch—on the rocks, of course.

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It is the middle of the night and Jon Mason returns from the bathroom. Sara sleeps on her back and the bright moonlight filters through the curtains casting a soft glow across her body. Through the open window, he can hear the roar of the surf. The sheet, wadded and tossed towards the bottom of the bed, leaves just one of her feet covered.

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Marcie's head flew up and down over my cock, licking the sides like they were coated in chocolate. Now, there was nothing unusual about Marcie giving me a blow job, nor was there anything unusual about her enjoying it. But there was something more there today. An urgency to her work that raised a flag that something was up.

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Beth and Nicole sat at the computer, bored as the teacher rambled on and on at the front of the class. Don’t they realise that kids start early on these things? Why do they always have to take you all the way back to basics they thought as they suffered through the class.

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We live in a quiet suburban town in central New Jersey, our neighbors basically keep to themselves, usually just a hello in passing as i walked by their house walking my dog. The neighbors are mostly white couples ranging from their mid-40's to late 50's. A few interracial couples but it is mostly a white neighborhood.

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During the long wait for his wife to die Freddie Short thought about life after Shelia's death. He'd miss having her beside him in bed, for sure, but what about during the day when she'd chatter on much about nothing and pester him to take her somewhere? He'd REALLY miss that. Freddie tried not to think about missing the sex. Being washed up aged fifty-nine was a little early but like death that was something to accept, not matter how hard it felt.

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It's sometimes amazing how innocent little meetings just turn out to be life's big enjoyments. I'm Al and my wife's name is Liz and this is our story. We've been blessed with an amazing financial windfall when the investment's our folks gave to us kept doubling and splitting giving us enough money so that at the ripe old age of thirty five we were able to not have to work to make ends meet.

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What I'm about to tell you was the most exciting sexual encounter I had ever experienced in my life. It all started when my husband got transferred interstate for his job as a PR consultant. We were both excited to be moving to a more tropical climate and hoped we would spend the rest of our life's in paradise.

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I walked into my Civil War history class on the first day of the fall semester. I enrolled in this class as a crip credit. My Dad was a Civil War buff and I spent my entire life hearing about the various battles, participants, what should have been done, stupid mistakes that were made, and endless trivia.

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