Your erotic stories

Kurt was nervous. She was meant to be there in fifteen minutes, it was quarter to six now and the movie started at six-thirty. She had told him she would be round to pick him up, it would just be easier that way. He had put on his favourite shirt; Navy blue and plain, he wore it everywhere he went and didn't feel the need to dress up tonight. He was also wearing his oldest pair of jeans, held up by a belt he had just gotten the week before, Kurt despised shopping and even more so when it was for pants.

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Some people say "no good deed goes unpunished." I never subscribed to that armchair philosophy even though I had and saw many good deeds backfire. I must admit, though, that the "unpunished" saying did make me a little apprehensive that my most elaborate good deed might boomerang; but it didn't stop me. I'm a 52 year old guy with keen business acumen but poor social skills with women. I did get married when in my twenties to a bohemian woman that my friends considered a poor match.

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It was a slow night at Iron Works Gym. Outside the rain pounded the parking lot and washed away the remnants of what had been another routine day. Another routine day in a long, line of routine days. There were only a few guys working out that night and we were all scattered into our own workout zones. The clanking of plates drowned out the music the gym played but no one seemed to care. Most of the guys in the gym that night were listening to their own tunes on their Ipods and in 'the zone.'

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As the car idles in front of the school, in line with all the other parents waiting to pick up their children, I take out my phone and call you. "Hi, baby," you say, the tension in your voice coming through the line clearly. "Do you need something?" "I was just about to pick up the kids and thought I'd see how your day is going and if you wanted something special for dinner. Is Michaels still breathing down your neck?"

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Another story came to me folks, Josie and Tanner has bogged down a little, the third installment is a little talky-talky-wordy-talky in the middle, then you try to weave an entertaining narrative with it, and connect all the dots. That's my problem, I think of all the dots first and then have to figure out how to connect them! In the meantime, here's another one-off story that if I get enough positive feedback on it I may consider extending into another series. Very heavy Daddy/Daughter play here. Easily my new favorite kink. I hope my Babygirl loves it as well. So please meet "Puddin'", and her very loving "Daddy" in......

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I had known Diana for over four years, since my husband came to the university here. We've always been friendly in a casual way, never close. We see each other about once every other month, mostly faculty social events involving our husbands. Mine is a bigshot professor, hers is the dean of the college and though they've become pretty good friends over the years, we've never socialized as a foursome.

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"Well that was something different. If you had told me a year ago that I would be sticking my cock up some guy's arse I'd have punched your face!" "I have to say that when you started talking to me in the bar downstairs it didn't cross my mind you were...well, you know... one of THEM. You kind of did the pick up in a nice way though and the thought has crossed my mind once or twice so I suppose you just pressed the right buttons."

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I recommend that you read chapter 1, 2 and 3 before delving into chapter 4, but here is a quick recap reminder of what happened. Eighteen year old Kevin Lansing came home to find his older sister Hannah licking his twin sister Kristen's hot pussy. He quickly stripped down and joined in on the filthy fun, where plenty of licking, sucking, tonguing and fucking took place. Later, their mother Krystal, a dominant mistress, and father Kevin, a submissive pet, came home and the fun continued.

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I was working the night shift at the airport, supposedly saving the world from terrorists by making old people remove their shoes at the metal detector. The job was boring and the pay mediocre, but sometimes I could have a little fun depending on who I had to pat down. It was along time since my last relationship had broken up, I would take any action I could get even if it was just mildly groping cute guys who came through the line. Like the one that was just approaching.

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Hot morning sun blistering one side of my cheek, along with the sound of a shrieking bird outside my window as I lay on my bed woke me up. I scrambled to the floor, forgetting for the moment, in my sleepy state, that it was Sunday and I didn't have to go to work. Looking at the clock on the bedside table I saw that it was eight thirty. I felt like going back to bed but habit got the better of me. Growing up, I had heard my late dad on numerous occasions speak on the virtues of early rising, claiming that persons who liked to sleep late got nowhere in life. I usually got up at around 5:45 to 6:00 am to start preparing for work.

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