Your erotic stories

Today was my day off. It was about seven at night, and I had just gotten around to taking a shower. After reading for a few hours, playing some old games on my Super Nintendo, and responding to a couple of work-related e-mails, it seemed prudent to wash away the stank of laziness before my current girlfriend returned home.

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My lover has an Afrikaans accent. His breath whispers against my neck as he speaks gruffly in my ear, pinning me to the living room wall. I push my behind into his groin as he cups my tits, groaning he is "so glad he met me." It's a rainy summer's night, all sticky and we're slick with sweat. We're both in singlets, he's in jeans and I can feel his thick length as he nestles it between my shorts clad cheeks.

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"Ooh, I just have to have those black ones!" "Yes, Imelda, but don't you already have 18 pairs of black pumps, on top of the 14 pairs of black slides, and the six pairs of black flats?" I offered, trying not to sound overly sarcastic. I knew this because I kept a running count, a count which never decreased.

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This time when I woke up the birds sounded like they should have. I opened one eye, good, my own bed. Something warm and smooth against my back, actually two somethings. If I wasn't such a cynic I would swear they were my wife's boobs. If you remember from our first story we normally sleep in separate beds. Evidently after our first experience with anal sex the night before she decided she wanted more snuggling.

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We had been married for three years when my wife and I took a vacation and traveled to stay with one of her childhood friends. He is quite openly and flagrantly gay and was living with a gay friend, Dan. They were not serious lovers, just two young gay guys who shared an apartment and enjoyed the gay party life together. They were both handsome, openly friendly young men who no doubt made quite a stir at some of the parties they went to.

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