Your erotic stories

It was a beautiful Spring night, or rather, early morning, as he drove his cab across 53rd Street cruising for a fare. He thought about his recent decision not to re-up and decided, for the umpteenth time, that he had made the right choice. He served two tours in Iraq with the Marines and managed to get through relatively unscathed, thank goodness. Brad had rugged good looks, a 6’4” frame and looked every inch the Marine Sgt. He had been for the past 4 years.

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It was raining and we still had nine or ten miles to go down the long glen before reaching a road and the dubious chance of a bus. I and two mates were backpacking in the Scottish highlands in our first university vacation. We'd bagged a couple of Munros, slept in a bothy, waded a few rivers and almost run out of food. We were sweaty, footsore and tired.

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After being poked and prodded, giving up blood, sperm and DNA samples I was directed to a solid oak door. The smell of wax and old wood filled the air. I opened the door on a room cast in shadow, lit only by a guttering oil lamp on a table in one corner. A low step stool, a ceramic pitcher and basin were the only other furnishings. In front of me was the reason I was here and had gone through all of the prodding and poking. Three female rumps were at the far end of the small room. A thick black curtain bisected their torsos.

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Grace Discovers her Sister's Secret Sordid World The summer I finished my first year at university was uncharacteristically long and hot. A golden sun blazed down from a cloudless, crystal clear azure sky and baked the ground until the grass scorched and any unattended flowers shrivelled in the heat. It was a perfect time for me. I was nineteen and a full year at university had shown me life beyond school and the tight borders of the small, rural English town in which I had grown up. With little to do before the new term began, I had almost four months of free time stretched out before me.

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Occasionally my wife Tracy likes to play a game in which she has to do anything I tell her. Tracy is five feet seven inches tall and one hundred forty pounds, with a 38DDD-26-36 figure. She has brilliant brown hair, which is straight and hangs almost to her waist. She is extremely shy, and was self- conscious about her huge breasts until I convinced her that many men like them that way. I think the reason Tracy likes to play the game is that it lets her experience wild and kinky things she could never bring herself to do on her own.

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The years had passed quickly and I had enjoyed rapid promotion within my company to become its Sales and Marketing Director. As such, I travelled extensively, not least in North America where I visited clients in most states. Unfortunately, Massachusetts was not one of them and I was especially disappointed about this, since Carol and Sean, some friends that went back to my university days, had made Massachusetts their home some ten years previously.

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Fiona applied the last of her mascara then started to pack her make up away. The doorbell rang and she walked into the hallway. "Darren, the babysitter has arrived are you nearly ready?" She opened the front door. "Evening Ying, come in and make yourself at home." Ying, the daughter of a family friend, was now Darren and Fiona's regular babysitter for their two-year-old son Joshua.

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Kendra Mercer untied the strings of her Missoni bikini and let them fall away from her shoulders, leaving the tiny triangles of fabric perfectly balanced on her firm, perky breasts. She let her body sink into the plush, cushioned lounge chair with an indulgent little sigh. Life was almost perfect. After several years of dating Luke Prescott, the son of one of the most important and politically influential families in New York, she was finally engaged. Kendra glanced down at the 5-carat platinum sparkler on her left hand, admiring the way the sunlight bounced off the diamond.

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I was dreading the thought of going to work. Normally I enjoyed my job but for the next two weeks I was going to have to work with the companies auditors. Great, I thought, instead of flirting with the attractive women in the secretarial pool, I got to work with a couple of stuffy accountants. I arrived at work, dejected, dropped my briefcase off at my desk and went to the boardroom to meet the auditors. When I looked through the window into the room, I stopped.

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We were dining out one evening with Marie and Jean-Pierre and the conversation turned to upcoming vacation plans since it was only a few months before the holidays were upon us. We mentioned that we had made plans to go to Aruba and spend the holidays laying around on the beach and just relaxing when Marie suddenly exclaimed, “Aruba!” and went on to explain that they know a wonderful couple, who were close friends of theirs in France, who are now living in Aruba during the winter months and we must make it a point to contact them when we get there.

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