Your erotic stories

As I packed my suitcase, I couldn't believe I was actually going on a vacation without my husband. I'd kind of fantasized about it many times before, but never really thought it would happen. But Jane wanted a girls-only trip to celebrate her birthday, and who was I to say no? I thought about what else to pack. Swimsuit, cocktail dress, shorts, sunscreen... I grabbed my sexy bra and panty sets and put those in. Why not feel sexy, even if it was very likely no one but me would ever see them?

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I had just got off work and I was exhausted, at least my mind was, though my body was still very much awake. I hated working the night shift at the club, it always screwed up my inner clock and now I had to deal with it. At least I didn’t have to close the place though.

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"Ahhh, that were very nice," I said with a deep, satisfied sigh, as I spilled my seed down Des's chin. We were in the boathouse on the lower lake, here because Des had wanted me to fuck him. But now we'd have to sit and talk for a bit, listening to the racing shells grind against the dock outside in the bit of a squall that had come up over Sandhurst. It would take me a few to recharge.

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I'm 44 now and the following scenario has been going on for the best part of a year. I have a lover, who at 24 is not only much younger but the best thing I have ever ended up in bed with. Every weekend and the odd week night is spent in the kind of sexual bliss a woman only dreams about. My name is Pat; I have dark hair hanging in ringlets past my neck and a good body for my age, a legacy of having a super pair of cycling legs. I used to work with him and on the Xmas night out he drunkenly offered to go down on me. I was surprised and flattered.

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Marie and I were serving drinks at a post-wedding-rehearsal-dinner party our boss' restaurant had catered. It was a fun group, the wedding guests about a hundred-twenty strong and the crowd sticking around for the after-dinner party somewhere in the sixty or seventy range. If there's such a thing as a good place to get hurt or sick, this was it.

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It started with a break up. The college whatever relationship, three plus years, came to its inevitable end. And though it comes with freedom it doesn't come without pain and uncertainty. So I decided to get the fuck away from her and myself, or that is, the me I was with her. Didn't even want to know that person. Either of us. So unload the bank account and move.

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With both my lovers away fighting those bloody wars, and with the change in weather I decided that perhaps I should see more of life and get away from the house. On the off-chance I phoned an old school friend who I discovered was about to start a holiday at her parent's villa in southern Spain and would I be interested in joining her.

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Most of my friends and family would agree that I seem to have a knack for knowing about things before they happen. Call it precognition. Sometimes the knowledge comes in dreams, sometimes just a hunch, sometimes in the guiding voice I've learned to listen to. This knack is often handy, like the day I postponed a trip to the bank to deposit some checks, only to learn that it was being robbed just about the time I would have arrived. And sometimes, the foreknowledge gets me in trouble.

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Sally was proving to be a bit of a problem. She was the new stable girl I'd hired and I have to admit her work was excellent. Not so excellent was her attitude. She could be belligerent about women's rights one moment and then flirting and teasing the next. Her constant changing was causing a bit of tension among the rest of the stable staff.

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It was another night at the club and I was having my usual good times with the men and women who had come in to watch. This night however was particularly noteworthy do to a cute couple who had come in that evening. I noticed this guy and girl who came up to me more than once when I was dancing on stage. I always noticed when a person came up more than once because it usually meant I had a pretty good chance of getting a nice table dance out of them.

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