Your erotic stories

I recall a trip I took to Chicago, it was 1977, almost 15 years ago, and my first unaccompanied business trip. I was 29 then, and my career was just taking off. My schedule called for three days of meetings and seminars. But, I had my own room, with my own king size bed, and I was looking forward to two evenings of uninterrupted privacy.

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My wife Debbie received a call from an old friend who said her and her husband were coming to town for a long weekend. Jane and Debbie were real close before we were married. Jane got married shortly after us then her husband was transferred out of state.

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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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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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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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