Your erotic stories

I was pissed off. See, I was supposed to head up to Canada with my buddies from university and spend our winter break snowboarding, but things never seem to turn out the way I plan. Instead my dad pulled rank and ordered me home for Christmas. He insisted that I should learn some values and spend "quality time" with my mother and sister.

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Mom had asked if Marianne was ready for my cock. Mari's eyes burned with excitement, but flickered with a bit of trepidation. Mom picked up on this subtle look. "May I ask you something, sweetheart? When is the last time you were with a man? Marianne admitted that aside from being raped at 13 she was in all other ways, a virgin!!! The idea that I was to be her first, perhaps not technically, but certainly emotionally, her first lover was a bit daunting.

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My name is Waylon Fielding and I am married to a wonderful woman, my wife Celine Fielding. I would like to say that my life is perfect, or even good, but after two years of marriage I'm pretty freaking miserable and it's all Celine's fault. Actually, it really isn't her fault; it's her Mother's, the lovely Melissa Harmon.

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I look at her, and I know I want her. It's not the first time I've seen her tonight; I got here about four hours ago, and she was already here when I walked through the door. She hasn't danced at all. She's done nothing but watch the crowd, her dark eyes glittering with the reflection of the club's lights.

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He was just posed there, his feet on the ground, half sitting in the seat swing in the overgrown abandoned playground at the back of the elementary school. I had walked over here on a whim to cool down from the sharp retort I had unexpectedly made to my mother at the lunch table. This after her third badly cloaked jab on why I hadn't married yet and given her grandchildren.

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"Wahay!" A course Geordie voice shouted as I heard someone wolf-whistle me, "Careful you don't show us your stocking tops; sweetheart!" I had arrived home half an hour earlier after finishing a night shift at the hospital and as I was hanging some washing on the spinner in the garden my nurses' uniform had risen to mid thigh. I turned to scowl at the builders who were working on the new conservatory.

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I'd not long returned from my morning 8k run and still had an adrenaline buzz so, after checking my e-mails I decided to have a scroll through a couple of my favourite porn sites and have a nice leisurely wank, when there was a knock on my flat door. As I approached the door I rearranged my stiff cock to avoid any embarrassment. When I opened the door halfway to see who the caller was my jaw nearly hit the floor like a Tom & Jerry cartoon.

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A tiny slice of lucidity slipped through overwhelming fog in my mind. I was kneeling here with my husbands cock in my mouth, my ass sticking in the air visible to Jerry and Donna, our next door neighbors. What the hell was I doing here? Then my mind surrendered to the situation, the heat inside me overcoming my rationality.

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The Wrightsville yacht harbor dipped beneath the horizon off the stern of the big sloop. As its hull neatly parted the waves, the rigging beneath the taut sail hummed while the breeze of the yacht's passage gave relief from the muggy July heat of the North Carolina coast. Brenda watched the coast disappear for a few minutes and then turned to the woman sitting beside her.

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The first thing he knew after a long deep sleep was a sound. Someone spoke. The words were "Holy shit." murmured quietly but he heard them, and that seemed marvelous for some reason. In that first moment of consciousness his hearing seemed wonderfully powerful.

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