Your erotic stories

Looking down at the crescent nail marks gouged into my hand, I made a rueful mental note to get you drunk before we took off next time. Turning my face towards the warm sunlight streaming in the window, I sighed, it had been far too long since I had been back. I could see the islands growing bigger across the clear bright aqua water.

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Selma Fox looked at the Senior English Class and considered which lucky young man would be her boytoy that semester. The first and most rigid requirement she had was that he had to be at least 18 years old, because she didn't want to get into any trouble with the law. Fucking and sucking off students was frowned on by the officials of the school district but, as long as nobody got hurt and no laws were broken, they would be willing to look the other way. Good teachers were hard to find, and Selma was one of the best.

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Everyone on Craigslist can't be a creep, right? His post about introducing a woman to anal sex sounded very sincere. By the use of language, I'd gathered that this man was educated, thoughtful, perhaps even well spoken. If we'd met under other circumstances, we might find ourselves at the same end. But this was so much easier – I know what he wants, he knows what I'd like to try.

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My best friend Karl and I grew up together. We've known each other since we were babies. Our mothers were best friends and they got married about the same time and spent all their time together, so I think we were even changed on the same table and took baths together. We did everything together, we had all the same interests.

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- 1 - My husband Dan is an engineer—and, I strongly suspect, a sex addict. Until recently, these were separate parts of his life. Not that I'm complaining, too much, about Dan's strong libido. He's always been faithful. And he's also a willing student—and budding master—of my body. I may want sex less frequently than he, but I probably get more enjoyment from it than I deserve for my own efforts. Besides, Dan's curiosity and drive definitely keeps things interesting in our bedroom—and sometimes outside of it too!

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Kendra pulled the note out of her pocket and read it again. Kendra, I'm sorry that I've hurt you. What we had was great. But, we both know that it's time to move on. I hope that someday you can look back on this and not hate me.

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Thomas Powell shifted uncomfortably in his chair, hoping his wife Lorraine would not notice his restlessness. No matter how hard he tried to avert his gaze, his eyes were continually drawn to the image in the backyard. But it was not the slight tilt of his head that was required to capture the desired sightline that was the cause of his stirring - it was the effect that the vision before him was having on him.

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The year was 1921. Flappers were fashionable, but I was not. I was a lowly farm girl who had just pricked her finger on a needle whilst trying to mend a skirt that she wore to church. We only had a few sets of clothes in those days, you know, and I had ripped my skirt on a thornbush walking home after Sunday service. So I had to mend it.

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I had made friends with Stacy and Greg at the gym I go to. Stacy caught my eye the very first time I saw her. She had a vibrant, mischievous energy about her. And her body was spectacular. She stood 5' 8" and was beautifully curvy. Strong and sexy she had 37" hips a 29" waist and a stunning, bouncy pair of natural 38 DD breasts that got my cock hard just looking at them.

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It had been six years since we had graduated from college, and for the first time since graduation, all three of us were together again. From the enthusiastic hugs at the airport and then the conversation and laughter during the dinner we shared at a local restaurant on the way to my home, it was clear that while plenty of time had passed and we had kept in contact, the comfort and attraction between the three of us when all together in the same physical location was still undeniable.

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