Your erotic stories

"Good morning Christy," Bryan Jensen said, as he set his briefcase down on the floor next to the receptionist's workstation. Without glancing her way, he began sorting through the stack of correspondence, phone messages and inter-office envelopes that were waiting for him.

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We met Jana at a wedding reception. It was my younger cousin's wedding. She sat at our table. Jack, my husband of nine years, could not take his eyes off of her. She was very beautiful with her black, long, curly hair and dark exotic eyes. She had long eyelashes and dark full eyebrows. She had high cheekbones and a classic Roman nose. Both of her parents were Italian, but she grew up in an eastern European country.

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"Chrissie Christianson looks pleased with herself," Amy muttered into my ear, motioning her head towards the dance floor. I turned in my chair, looking for the petite blonde cheerleader. Grimacing, I spotted her. "Do you think she could have flaunted a little more of her body in that dress?" I kidded, smiling. "Look who she's with," Amy said pointedly, motioning again.

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The thought of his lips on her clit sent a buzz through her belly and up her spine -- like sexual thoughts had intoxicated her mind when she was a teenager. But she was no longer a teenager. Professor Sherry looked in the mirror in the restroom before she walked back to her class. She didn't look 40. She definitely didn't feel 40. Her palms pushed down against her pert breasts covered in her deep purple blouse.

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Little Devil Chastity was dressed like a cheap whore. Short, black semi-sheer mini-skirt. Braless, she wore a too tight and too small, neon pink tube top that barely contained her boobs. Cheap costume jewelry and knee high faux leather black boots. Poofy blonde hair, overdone make-up and strong perfume. And underneath, lace, red crotchless panties. It made her feel like a slut. It made her feel liberated. It made her feel excited.

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It was Saturday night. Frank and I went to our favorite local bar to hang out and try to meet women. He was usually successful more than I was, though I certainly got my fair share of 'action' as well. The place was packed as usual, with all the tables along the wall taken, and people standing elbow to elbow at the bar. We managed to squeeze ourselves near the bar and ordered a couple of beers.

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It had been six months since Katie left to go back to South America. Six long months without anyone to play with – six months of frustration with only my own fingers to satisfy my sensitive nipples. – And now, back in my apartment, dressed in only a white cotton top and g-string, I rubbed my aching buds back and forth through the material, releasing my pent up and frustrated feelings.

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My husband and I had never done any swinging before but had talked about it many times. It was just kind of a fantasy thing that we shared. Then through a friend of ours, we were invited to what was billed as a swing party although it turned out to be more like an orgy. The party started out mildly enough. Val, our host had only invited couples. We kept to ourselves at the beginning and found ourselves in a darkened room.

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This is a retelling of an experience a very good friend of mine (I'll call her Judith) had 2 years ago before she met the fella that she recently married. I have her permission to retell the story so long as I did not use her name or the names of anyone else connected to this. Her experience was so good that I don't need to embellish it in any way. So here goes ....

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The air conditioner kept the tractor cab to the same comfort level as my living room in spite of the ninety-five degrees of searing, July heat. I hit the hydraulics to raise the cultivator, made the turn, and lined back up on the next eight rows of soybeans. Another tap on the hydraulic lever caused the gleaming sweeps to bite into the rich, black, Illinois soil. It used to be hotter and harder work, but I liked it more when my ears were filled with the sound of the tractor exhaust instead of the local radio station, and when I could smell the freshly turned dirt and herbal scent of the weeds.

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