Your erotic stories

It started out as just another Saturday night – me, Terry, Jezza and a few other lads going out into Luton for a few beers and a bit of fun. Then Terry mentioned some gay celebrity he'd seen mincing about on TV before he came out, and we were into the usual shared rant about how queers were taking over, and soon it'd be compulsory to take it up the arse.

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I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand.

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It was accident that Phil had caught the earlier flight home and came home in the middle of the day he told himself. Still he had stood transfixed for half an hour peering through a small crack in the door of his lounge room looking at the scene before him. The hard on in his pants betrayed the excitement he felt. He had come into the house and hearing a giggle and a sweet squeal of a woman's voice half expected the television to be left on in the lounge room and his son watching daytime television rather than studying for his exams.

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About two years ago, while working for the space agency, I was sent to a one week training/workshop in Huntsville, Alabama. I stayed at a hotel within walking distance of the Marshall Space Flight Center, where the workshop was to be held. There were about 75 people there, composed primarily of engineers, technicians, research scientists, a few administrators, and some military personnel.

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Nikki loved her job at the diner, although the pay was light and the hours heavy. She knew most of her customers by name, and counted most of them as friends. She also knew that their off-color comments, while generally sexual in nature, were delivered with no offense intended. Her breasts were a modest b-cup, and she often wished they were larger, but her ass made up the difference. It was an ass that men's dreams were made of.

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My first time happened back in 1969. My wife, Cheryl, and I were living in Ndola, in Zambia, where I worked on a copper mine. There was no TV out there, and very little in the way of a social life, aside from the local recreational club, which nearly all the expatriate community belonged to.

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The house next door to mine finally sold to a nice couple. It had been on the market for a while. I got to know them as the moved in and started to get settled. She was Pam a friendly woman in her mid-thirties and he was Mark, also about the same age and in good shape for his age. I helped them as they moved in and did some work on the house, but it wasn’t until they had a house warming party that I really got to know them well.

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I was half way through my daily grind at work's gym, when Jen walked in. For the last few months, Jen and I had been gym buddies, an arrangement that worked well for both of us. Jen had always struggled sticking to a regular routine, her various vices always too big a temptation when it came time to make a choice. I, however, generally found that, once I decided to get back in shape, I did it. Regardless of how much it loathed me to slug it out on the human hamster wheels.

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It has been a while since I've written, and I have to admit there hasn't been a lot to write about. Oh, I am still involved with my former boss, I still am dating a couple nice guys, still working and still enjoying life. At a recent luncheon with my friend Jennifer we reflected on our lives and the little and large things that make us happy. Jennifer has rekindled happy into her personal repertoire since breaking up with Max, a real jerk of a guy. Now she was playing the field, and having a whole lot of fun doing it.

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A few years ago I was 18, and like many 18 year old guys I wanted to "get big" so I went to the gym pretty often to work out. My Stepmom was married to my dad not long before my 18th birthday, and recently she had been coming to the gym with me. She liked to stay in shape. She was more than 10 years younger than my dad; she was forty years old and my dad was in his early fifties.

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