Your erotic stories

Lying here beside you I watch the moon play across your face as you sleep. Would that make you cringe self-consciously? I know it would. Perhaps I will tell you in the morning. I do love to make you squirm.

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Rounding a bend in the unsealed narrow country road, I was disappointed to see that the last few hundred meters were uphill. Weary from our third consecutive day hiking on the southern Turkish coast, I grabbed Jack's hand, trying to get his help pulling me forward. I felt him wrapping his fingers around mine, and upping the pace a little which was assisting me to move.

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I walked over to where she was standing, and she turned to me and took my hands in hers. She looked into my eyes and softly said, "I would like very much to kiss you, Dear. Would Diane like Georgia to kiss her?" Although it wasn't entirely unexpected, I wasn't really prepared for it. I was surprised when, without hesitation, I took a step forward so we were almost nose to nose with our mouths about two inches apart. We each leaned forward slightly, and our lips met very gently.

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I hate labels. I don't consider myself gay. Hell, I don't even think of myself as bi, either. Slightly bent? Straight with a slight curve? Fuck if I know because I love sex with women. Really, I do, except I've had a dick or two inside my mouth, too. So, what does that make me? Before Todd, I never thought much about it. Best to think of myself as a horny bastard and leave it at that.

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... You're kidding me. ... Nope, dead serious. ... So . . . I've been flirting with a girl for . . . like . . . 45 minutes and she could drive here in under an hour. ... Yup. How about that? ... Gee. What are the odds. I mean, the World Wide Web implies . . . wide . . . world.

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The most wonderful thing a lover has ever done for me was to give me my life. I didn't understand it at the time, but if he had loved me as I wanted him to—as I begged him to—I would be long dead today. The days of my sexual coming of age in Bangkok, Thailand, during the mid seventies through the mid eighties were paradise followed by a rude awakening, a realization of how life can come back at you hard that I didn't fully realize until I had left the City of the Angels the first time I lived there.

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I still don't know exactly how I got myself into that situation. It may have been a bet, It may have been a dare, or it might be that I was tricked. The upshot of the entire affair is that I found myself with my neighbor's 18 year old son manhandling me and eventually fucking me senseless. Perhaps I need to start at the beginning with a description of myself and my marriage to Jim. We had been College sweethearts who married and have been together for 10 years this November.

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The beach was clean that morning, as it was every morning. Throughout the night, the caress of the surf had swept away all the sandcastles and pock marks left by the sunbathers and scampering children of yesterday. The broad expanse of sand was as smooth as a woman's inner thigh. At the edge of the wave's reach, a dark line of detritus had been deposited by those same waves.

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To set the scene, we were staying in one of two villas that were situated on a hill among olive groves and exotic wild flowers with a beautiful vista overlooking the sea; we shared a swimming pool with the villa next door and a private beach could be found down a few rickety steps.

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"Hi. What are you doing here?" I heard the familiar voice as I felt the tap on my shoulder. It was the girl who serves coffee to me every day at the local Starbucks. I instinctively stood as I turned to face her. "Hello. Well, I came to the restaurant for dinner, and since my table won't be ready for a while, I thought I'd come in to the lounge to have a drink and relax. How about you?" She laughed lightly. "Well, my date was supposed to meet me here over fifteen minutes ago."

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