Your erotic stories

Ian tapped the "End Call" button on his phone and tossed it on the couch. He went upstairs, two at a time, noting that he needed to dust the bannister as he went. In his room, he went straight to his dresser and pulled out shorts and a polo shirt. This was a modest upgrade from the athletic shorts and old tee-shirt that he had been wearing, but since Jessica had invited him over, he decided he should look at least partially presentable. His cat rubbed against his leg as he pulled the shirt over his head, reminding him that he needed to clean the litter box.

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While walking one evening I saw a friend go into his new neighbors garage. A man walking into another mans garage may not seem odd, but rumors have surrounded this new neighbor since he arrived in town. Everyone says he is gay. He isn't married, nor does he appear to have children, but that doesn't mean anything. He seems quiet and keeps to his self, so no on really knows for sure. Chalking it up to idle gossip, I pushed it from my mind until now.

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Penny sorted through the mail. The usual lot: bills, catalogs, applications for credit cards. She was about to toss it all aside when a smallish envelope with very flowery handwriting caught her attention. She opened it and read: 'You are cordially invited to a Lady of the Night lingerie party at the home of Kimberly Morgan, this Saturday, the twenty-first at one PM.'

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Her name was Jenna Malone. Adam knew she would succumb. He could see in the flash of her striking green eyes a deep erotic yearning. He was certain she would be seduced, would submit to him, and would surrender to his whims. When he saw her that day, in his bank, deep in conversation with one of the Investment Advisors, he knew he had to have her.

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Crap. Crap. Crap. That was all she could think of saying inside her head. Crap. How had she ended up in this situation? She'd made a bet with him over something stupid. It was so long ago, she couldn't even remember what it was about, but now he was cashing in his chips. While she knew it wouldn't be anything outrageous, like making her hitchhike nude or going around asking men what their favorite flavor lube is, she knew it wouldn't be pleasant for her.

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Not since childhood had I been so excited to open a new toy. After weeks of waiting it had arrived. I cursed myself for choosing standard delivery but was there really a reason to rush order anal beads? They were glorious - and intimidating. The color was red and there were six beads of increasing size and girth with a handle at the end. It was far too long for my petite ass. I was setting a goal of three beads at the max.

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MEETING GINGER AND SHARON Justin had recently moved into a complex of townhomes and apartments in Charlotte, NC. It was a popular singles place that had amenities and activities conducive to active people. Justin worked for a small consulting firm and he used his townhome as his business location. He had two bedrooms and he set one up as his office. Whenever he was not at a client site or on a sales call he worked from home.

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Sam was at his desk at work, reading a very sexy story on Literotica. He hadn't masturbated for a couple days so his cock was rock hard. He couldn't resist unzipping his pants and freeing his erection from its confines. As he read on, he stroked himself slowly. His mind was deep in the story when his office door flew open. Melinda.

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My adolescent sexual experiences, beyond some clumsy groping under tops and skirts at the movies once or twice, were confined to my solo routine until going off to university. My first true lover was my dorm-mate Jane, who was as naïve and adventurous as I was at that time, and though she didn't have the same desire to have me play with her ass, she was always very considerate of my needs. After college, I was fortunate to meet another considerate woman, much older than I, who introduced me to a new world of pleasure with her vibrators and anal beads.

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The tedium finally broke at a quarter to seven, late that Friday night. We had been on the contract for almost two months, making sure that the details were all ironed out and then ironed out again once the two parties took turns changing their minds again and again. I should have been happy about the billable hours, and the generous amount of money those hours constituted, but these are the proceeds that contract lawyers commonly refer to as blood money.

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