Your erotic stories

My wife Anna and I enjoy a fairly wild sex life. We have been married for almost ten years and the sex has continued to be exciting. She knows what turns me on and thrives on it. I know that every so often she is going to surprise me with some sexual play that is out of the ordinary from what I hear other guys talk about with their women.

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It felt odd, sitting in front of the screen, waiting to have a conversation with someone. But then it wasn't just a screen. A camera, too. I can see you. Big deal, I can see you too. I like the anonymity of the telephone, I can curl myself up, pull faces, read the news, hell, I can even play with myself, safe in the knowledge that no-one gets anything more than my voice. This felt a lot more dangerous.

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Was that the door bell? I asked myself as I continued to wash my hair in the shower. There it was again, it was indeed. It must be after 10.30 I thought as I climbed out of the shower and grabbed the large towel hanging on the rail. Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, the door bell rang insistently. Just my luck I thought, with Mary away fro the weekend there was no-one here to get the door for me.

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“I can be there in about 5 minutes to drop off the fundraising stuff. I’m in the neighborhood so it won’t be a problem at all.” Crissy told her friend as she hung up the phone. The drive over was fairly quick, but when she got there, there were no cars in the driveway. “Well that’s odd” she thought. Not wanting to have wasted the trip over or leave the money by the front door she went around back and found the back door unlocked.

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Hey.... when did -" he started, "did you just - umm.." He held the drinks lower, much like his defenses, when he saw them, almost losing his grip on both Redhooks. He caught himself, hands trembling. "Trace, this is..." he started again, with spurious amnesia. The girl, 22, pretty, shot him the most _don't even_ of looks.

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This story is partly fictional, although the woman by the name of Lynne is real but I have not used her real name and she does indeed run a matchmaking service for lonely, horny lesbians. Although she calls it matchmaking, it is actually prostitution.

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I notice her as soon as she enters the room, but then who wouldn't? She's a hot little number, about 5'4", I'd say, early thirties, all pink and blonde. Her hair falls in soft waves just below her chin and she's wearing the classic black dress that always looks so good on a someone like her.

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Ann opened the drape and looked outside and everything was white. It took her back to her childhood when she eagerly anticipated the first snowfall. Oh, how she loved sledding, building snowmen, and snowball fights. Now the 37 year old housewife saw the snow as a nuisance; snow was something that made it difficult to drive and gave you a backache when you had to shovel it.

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Today was going to be the day! I had carefully reviewed all of the candidates that had successfully gotten through the first interview process and had narrowed it down to three. All three second interview candidates were similar in background and education, but one stood out for what I was looking for. Let me explain.

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A very big thanks to CarsonShepherd, Impressive, English Lady and Vella for all of their help! As I was packing my bag to go home, I once again said a silent Thank You to my editor for giving me this assignment. It was Valentine's weekend and I had been filled with dread as I thought about spending it moping around my flat watching television and eating ice cream out of the carton.

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