Your erotic stories

My first lover, Mark, loved to lick my pussy after he fucked me so that he could lick his cum as it dripped from my vagina. I was a very naïve eighteen year old at the time I gave my virginity to him and so I assumed that it was pretty normal when Mark would go down on me and lick me clean after he fucked me.

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I had a date on Friday with a boy I had seen a time or two before. I liked him well enough for seeing a movie and dinner, but there were no sparks between us. I hadn't slept with him, so this date was kind of the point where we either were or we weren't, and I just wasn't sure whether we would. And then he called and asked if it were okay if we doubled with a friend of his and another girl.

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"Okay, that's all for today, make sure you read the assignment for Monday, and bring your paper revisions." John said, standing up at his desk. The class of college freshman quickly filed out. John was just out of grad school, and he had aspirations of being a novelist but the need to pay bills forced him into teaching, at least for now.

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Such a simple and well known phrase. But how can anyone derive pleasure by giving something? - it defies all logic. The excitement of receiving something new, indulging in the joy of a gift, a compliment or whatever it may be that has been received. That's surely got to be where the real pleasure lies. Not by sitting back and watching someone else enjoy that experience, thinking all the while that it's really you that wanted to receive something. It just makes no sense.

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Derek leaned against the metal railing as his grey eyes passed over the crowded cafeteria. With the entire population wearing the same uniform he had to focus on faces in order to differentiate each inmate.

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One of the hardest things for me to deal with in my relationship, after a year and a half of being together, is that I'm not the only one she thinks about when she's laying in bed at night. That sometimes, when she's alone, reaching down beneath the sheets to play between her legs, that it's not always me in her mind. Breathing so hard, trying to be quiet while the muscles tighten in her legs, arching her back to the waves of orgasm quaking her lower body and clenching her asshole tight with pleasure, biting her lip to keep from screaming someone else's name.

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I had been married for three years when the events I am about to relate started to unfold. I should tell you about myself – stuff I had never revealed before included. Twenty eight years old, heterosexual, (though not homophobic) I have always – or at least since I had my first hard-on – been prey to a range of fantasies, some of which I think are abnormal. (though what, pray, is 'normal?')

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Bernardo was a Spanish bandit. And right now he was a Spanish bandit in the possession of a very beautiful and rich young noble lady. Even more pleasing, the young noble woman was at the moment on her knees in front of him, pleading to keep her maidenhead so that she would still be untouched upon her release. Such release would come tonight when her family left the money in the place that he had denoted. Whenever it came to these young innocent women he could always find such pleasure in the multitude of things that they had to offer him.

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I always hated stereotypes. At least, that was my excuse for resenting anyone who assumed I was gay. A guy can be fabulous and into clothes and still be attracted to the opposite sex. And I have been attracted to girls as far back as I can remember--that's no bullshit. Girls love a guy they can go shopping with. "Metrosexual" was what they called me, and I was fine with that mantle. It meant they recognized my good taste, refined appearance, superior grooming, and upscale tastes. It was when people called me "gay" that I got frustrated. I'm not gay. Properly, I'm bi.

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1 Alexis Haley had blonde hair, penetrating blue eyes and fascinating lips that always seemed to be frowning. She was a graduate student at Priapis State University where I was finishing my bachelor's in psychology. I had met her two years ago when I first switched my major from English to Psych. She had ignored me, which wasn't surprising. I'd had a tendency to blend in and she was a hot, snooty senior who was about to graduate with honors.

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