Your erotic stories

My name is Tom Green. I'm 49 years old, an even six feet tall, weigh just over 14 stones (or about 200 pounds) which is mostly still muscle I'm pleased to say! I also have greying dark hair and dark brown, almost black eyes which, I've been told, twinkle quite nicely when I'm in a good mood -- which is most of the time these days.

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The continuing tale of two women in love. "It's a red satin cincher with black stockings and hells. Red cami and tap pants. A nice English cincher with six garters as opposed to the American style with just four." Your voice was low, breathy, husky, enticing. You knew full well the effect your words were having on me.

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Sarah placed her coffee cup down and stared at her three friends. "Look, I know and you know, they're going to do it whether we allow them to or not. If not here, then somewhere else. At least here we can control the atmosphere," Sarah said, with an air of superiority. "She has a point," Barbara stated calmly. "Dean's been in trouble twice already this year, one more time and he could lose his scholarship.

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Thoughts of her kept returning to me, time and again. Here I was, married with three children and lusting after another woman. She wasn't just any woman, mind you. She was an absolute beauty. She was perfect in every way. Her face was that of a porcelain doll, delicate and soft; her hair was dark and flowing, like shimmering silk;

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It was the second summer that I worked for our local public library but this time, I was assigned to a different branch from the one last year, which had been the branch I generally went to. Now, before I tell you about what happened, I'll tell you something about me, after all, I do work in a library so maybe I'm not the senior all-star quarterback. And I'm not.

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Alice couldn't believe her luck. She had anticipated circling around the mall for a while, in search of a parking space, but one had opened up right in front of her. It was right near the entrance to the department store she had planned on visiting. Better still, it was the first non-handicapped space from the door. Before anyone else could steal it, Alice pulled her car into the spot. The day was going better than she had expected, and Alice hoisted her pocketbook over her shoulder and headed inside.

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Ursula almost remembered the dream that night. The alarm shattered most of it; even as she was waking up, the strident buzzing noise crashed through the memories, leaving nothing but fragments. She grasped at them, trying to hang onto something, anything at all. There was a hand, she knew, a hand sliding down the swell of her hip and...and a taste like wet rubber...no good. It was gone. Ursula hit the snooze button, but the dream didn't come back.

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Beep! Beep! Beep! The annoying sound of Jeremy's alarm clock was loud enough to wake the dead, but it took Jeremy a couple minutes to rouse from his deep sleep. As he turned to shut off the alarm, Jeremy wondered why he had set the alarm to go off at 5:30 in the morning. As he sat on the edge of the bed trying to clear his head and think straight, his semi-erect dick started poking through his boxer shorts and quickly brought back the scenes of the previous night.

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Unbelievable. I must be dreaming. There is no way that what just seemed to have happened, happened. Here I am sitting on a box in the basement of my store. I'm surrounded on three sides with old, unsold, Christmas merchandise waiting for the next holiday season. My pants are down around my ankles and my dick still standing semi-rigid. If you had asked me thirty minutes ago if this situation were possible, I would have laughed my ass off.

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I took a big gulp of water from the wet plastic bottle, and set it back down in the cup holder of my lawn chair. The hot sun was beating down, slowly cooking my legs and bare chest, and the sound of quiet voices passing by was lulling me to sleep. "You look awfully cute in that straw hat Bobby," a familiar female voice said.

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