Your erotic stories

It all began when Steve, my husband of fifteen years came home and told me that he had been made redundant from his job with a big software company in Phoenix. He had worked for the company for twenty years in total since he left school, but they had just lost a big contract and addressed the cash crisis by restructuring the management team.

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At lunch yesterday, I went out with an older guy that has been coming on to me. He has told me he is not at all interested in fucking me(!), but has a 6 inch tongue and breathes through his ears (grin), and would love to give me an experience that I would always remember and want to repeat over and over.

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Jim came home from work, to find the apartment totally dark. He called out for Tina, but she did not respond. Jim had moved to turn on the light, but a voice stopped him. "Don't turn that on." Tina told him from the darkness. "Damn, You scared the hell out of me. Why didn't you answer when I called?" Jim asked, while sitting his coat on the couch.

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While washing dishes in the sink, I didn't hear him come in over the rush of water. Suddenly there was a press of a warm body against my back with strong hands encircling my waist, reaching up to catch my breasts. "Miss me?" He breathed into my ear, tickling. I groaned as he began to unbutton my shirt. Once unbuttoned, he pushed up my bra and began to tug and twist on my nipples.

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I always have trouble sleeping in a hotel, especially the first night, so it is no surprise I am wide awake at midnight. I pour another glass of wine and open my laptop. I start searching for some gay porn so I can get off. Alcohol and orgasm are my go-to cure for insomnia. The hard part, aside from my cock, is finding a video that shows "real" guys. Shaved, oiled twinks don't really do it for me. Well. A shaved, oiled twink in the flesh might but I've never met one in real life.

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"Come here." I've been watching Sarah for the last few minutes. My book closed on my finger, marking my place. She's been, I don't know, bopping? Fiddling? Fussing? Not really doing anything, just, waffling around. She's barefooted in jeans. So,

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NOTE: Different perspectives (Third Person, and switching off of characters). This is my first time posting my work on an erotic space, please be kind. Enjoy! *Third Person* It was a breezy spring day and the family was planning to go for a little road trip. To visit some family. Lacey and Ryan were sitting at the back of the car, windows all the way down, both lost in their own worlds. Driving was Lacey's stepfather and beside him, Lacey's mother.

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LeRoy was sitting on the porch, rocking and rubbing the head of that old hound dog of his, as Dinah walked up the stone path from the mailbox at the edge of the muddy road. She had walked slow up from the bus stop in the nearest town, at the mouth of a fold back into the Blue Ridge. The suitcase she was lugging, balanced on the other side by her guitar case, was heavy, but she wasn't walking slow because of that weight. She was weighed down by something more serious than that.

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"Fore!!!" Sam shouted as he swung the club, striking the little white ball with a resounding 'crack." I held my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun as I watched the ball sail into the distance, veering off to the right before disappearing into a copse of tall trees. "God Damn It!" he cursed, pounding the driver into the turf in frustration.

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My parents started teaching my brothers and me at a very young age the importance of helping others, though they stressed that helping wasn't necessarily limited to the less fortunate or the poor or the needy. Basically what they taught was that if someone was lacking an ability or resource that you possessed, the right thing to do was to offer it to them. We were also taught to do this out of the goodness of our hearts rather than for personal gain, but we learned that the people we were helping usually did not want to be considered charity cases, so they'd often overcompensate by paying us extremely well for our help.

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