Your erotic stories

Mark lazily stabbed his fork at the frozen meal, puncturing the plastic before shoving it in the microwave. He set the timer before taking a long sip of his beer, his third of the evening. He tossed the package toward the garbage, already overflowing with similar boxes and the matching dirty trays. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he scratched at the rough beard on his jaw.

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We had all gone away for a month, us six guys: Ray, Mike, John, Matthew, Paul and myself. It was supposed to be a bonding thing. We were in the heart of the countryside, staying in Paul's family's holiday home. It was miles from anywhere and it was going to be our last group outing together before Ray got married.

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"Hey, could you show me how to Bate Stamp low on the page like you did it last time?" I shoved the file home, then stood from my bent position. I kicked the cabinet door closed and turned to my co-worker. I was surprised to see she had been looking at my ass. More surprising, she took her time raising her eyes to meet mine, lingering on my chest on the way up.

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WARNING: If you are not 18 or older, please leave this page immediately. Incest—a word that has extreme negative connotations. The image that most often comes about when the word is mentioned is that of a father forcing himself on his daughter. Any forcible sex act, especially done by a parent to a child, should result in the parent being punished in legal and non-legal ways.

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The doorbell rang and I went to answer it, it was Tas. Tas has come to see why my broadband was not working. A little bit about me first. Let's start with my name. I'm Louisa, but you can call me Lou; everyone does, even Tas. I'm fifty three and have been a widow for three years. Yes my husband died the day after my fiftieth birthday. He had a stroke. We did make love the night before.

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It was supposed to be a great weekend. But then I was supposed to have the perfect wife! All I wanted was a chance to fish a little, drink some beer, and just relax. I had a good job, but it was very stressful. I had planned this little escape for a month and Nan had known about it from the beginning. It all started on Friday night, just as I was getting all my gear together for my trip to the mountains. Nan came out to the garage and dropped her little bomb.

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I showered in a trance, my mind buzzing with all that had happened. I was drying my hair when Maria came into my room. “Have you been terribly bored?” she asked. “No…um…not at all,” I replied. “I had a bath and a nap.” “Well we have a few hours before the party…tennis? Swimming?” “Not tennis…I haven’t the energy,” I said.

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Hotel and motel rooms always seem to hold a certain special atmosphere about them: an almost indescribable, but no less undeniable aura of sex. The kinds of sex that permeate these plastic, manicured, temporary lodgings varies as widely as the colours of the spectrum: there is forbidden sex, illicit sex, bad sex, mediocre sex, good sex, great sex, amazing sex, marital sex, extra-marital sex, awkward sex, first-time sex, last-time sex, grudge sex, gentle sex, drunken sex, unwilling sex, ravaging sex, guilt sex, revenge sex, straight sex, gay sex, thrill sex, kinky sex, make-up sex, rough sex, farewell sex, and base, raw, lustful sex.

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I went to a small college in a town about 25 minutes from my parents' town. To save money, I lived with my parents and commuted my junior year. It worked out ok because my girlfriend, Sarah, lived close to my parents' house and went to a local community college, although the half-hour drive every day got to be a chore.

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The next morning after the card party, Cheryl and I were laying in bed and she started to get frisky. Cheryl started rubbing my hardening cock through my panties and telling me how much she loved watching the cock sucking action last night. I told her that she sure seemed to be getting off on the guy-guy thing and I reminded her that I love pussy.

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