Your erotic stories

The Piper Malibu bumped and rocked as it touched down on the airstrip in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing around the 4000-foot concrete pad except a couple of hills, a whole bunch of desert and some mountains barely visible through the shimmering heat on the horizon. The plane rolled to a stop and headed straight back up the runway and aimed at one of the large hills off to the side. As the plane came closer the front half of the hill slid apart to reveal a large hanger with several smaller planes parked inside.

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Jason stood on a rock overlooking a deserted beach beneath him. The cool sea breeze that sent an occasional whiff of salt up to him was a delightful refreshment under the glaring sun. He felt slightly dazed, uncertain if that was due to the heat, the amounts of red wine he had been drinking the night before, or ... he rubbed his eyes, incredulously.

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Ralph and Jill were getting ready to leave the party at a friends house. They had been there for many hours, drinking, dancing and just having fun. They were both a bit horney and they wanted to get home and fuck. Five other couples were there, all people they knew from work. Three of the couples were married, the others were living together. Everyone had been dancing with each others dates, flirting and enjoying the teasing. The lights were very dim so you could hardly see who you were holding.

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If you will recall from my last story An Unexpected Encounter, I recently met Tiffany, a nineteen year-old sophomore, who attends the same university as me. Tiffany is absolutely gorgeous, as I mentioned in the last story. Just as a reminder, I will tell you that Tiffany is about five-five and weighs 115 lbs, and she has the most gorgeous set of legs I've ever seen on a woman. She also has long, chestnut brown hair and striking dark-colored eyes.

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Hey all, my name is Judy. Yes, that's my real name. I feel safe in relating to you this very true experience of mine by simply leaving out my last name. To you, I'm simply Judy. Nothing more, nothing less. And again, this is a true story. Believe me. Let's start by me telling you a little about myself. I'm twenty-six years old and currently, and for that matter probably - for the rest of my adult career - a locally based television news reporter in a medium sized market in the mid-west.

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My story started several years ago when my best mate Phil and I were out having a quiet drink while our wives, Tina and Laura, were on a hen night. The conversation always turned to sex as we both moaned that we never got enough. Our wives used to take our moaning in good spirit as "typical men's moans." Anyway the conversation this night centred on our drooling over a work colleague of my wife whose legs seemed to go on forever.

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My friend, George, the sleeping car attendant, teases me with a double entendre private nickname. He calls me "All-Aboard Betty." Let me explain. I have necessarily drawn George into a conspiracy because I need him to achieve my purpose during periodic journeys aboard The Frontier, a transcontinental passenger train. When I'm aboard the Frontier becomes instead the Piece Train. (Apologies to Yusuf Islam. The devil made me do that.)

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I had just started working for a small little publishing firm. Being a part-time writer myself, it was enjoyable work reading other writers manuscripts, all hopeful of getting their works printed in book form. It was a relatively small office too, something else that I quite liked as it was a fairly laid back and comfortable atmosphere. My job was basically to read the manuscripts, critique them and then pass on my recommendations to Larry Somers my boss, or on to his wife Christine who partnered the business with him.

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Rene and I were sitting at a sidewalk table in a small town near our home in Southwest Ohio drinking a flavored water when she approached us and introduced herself. She was typical of this town, a place inhabited mostly by aging hippies of the artistic type. We come here often to browse its many art and cultural shops and just for fun to count how many people were wearing Birkenstocks. She introduced herself as Kabbie, a nickname given by a college professor that just stuck.

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I have invited a few friends over to share an evening with us. It’s supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but it’s difficult to keep a smile from revealing all. You’ve asked me about my suspicious behavior and I make a vague reply. I don’t want to spoil the moment. You’re wearing my gift to you, a sexy pair of black silk boxers, with turquoise piping. The matching robe was whisked off as soon as you had modeled it for me.

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