Your erotic stories

"That's her. Check it out. Wow," whispered Billy Sherman's buddy. They were at the town bar that they had been going to since before they were legally allowed to drink. And there, at the end of the long bar, not far from the door, sat Sue Lockhart, the middle school gym teacher.

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Winnie and Amy had been in the strip club for about 30 minutes observing the clientele and getting the occasional lap dance to get themselves more in the mood for what they had planned that night. As part of a "getting over our ex's" night, they planned to find a single business traveler and lure him back to the suite they booked for themselves at the nearby Sheraton to strip for him and maybe have some fun.

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This story has been buried deep inside of me for a long time. I remember all of it very well, almost like it was last week. I've reminisced and re-lived it all many times over the years. Much of it is quite fun to remember. Some of it is bittersweet. Some of it is painful still. When I was out of college and in my early twenties I got a job selling radio advertising in a suburban/rural area, and although new to the region, I became successful in a fairly short time.

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Long before I met my current wife I fought in the Viet Nam War. That automatically makes me old. I'm 67. I've had a good life with plenty of success. Unfortunately, after the war I made a poor decision to get married to someone I had not known prior to my service. It was a mistake that lasted 10 years. The sex in my first marriage could not have been worse. For some unknown reason, my wife got turned off by sex. Maybe I was not satisfying her.

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Mrs. Khanna ran into Mrs. Sorabji as the latter was stepping out of an exclusive shoe store at Nariman Point in Mumbai. "Hi Yasmin," exclaimed Mrs. Khanna," haven't seen you in ages! How are you?" "Very well, thank you. And you?" "Oh, vadhiya ji vadhiya," said Preeti Khanna jovially, then her eyebrows knitted into a frown, "you are a clinical psychologist, right?"

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I lay on the bed beside Sarah in the warm afterglow of amazing sex. Our passion when we are together burns as hot as a thousand suns, and I always loved those relaxing moments afterwards. I was prone on my belly as she gently stoked and rubbed my shoulders and back, her gentle administrations and soft, loving words caressing away my stress like gentle waves caressing a secluded beach. My lover knew what she was doing, and I often found myself wondering how I'd been lucky enough to find her.

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"You will wear the blue skirt!" she tells me, reaching to pull it out of the closet. I am already wearing the corset; black satin, laced, long suspenders linked on to sheer black stockings. Fishnet, she says, is tacky. Personally I think the whole suspenders-and-stockings thing is tacky, and much prefer bare flesh, but then, it's not for me to decide.

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While serving in the Navy, I had the opportunity to attend some training in New England. Denny, another First Class Petty Officer, and I had orders to attend several weeks of computer schools before returning to the Navy and teaching a course. Since there were no Navy bases nearby, we were assigned to bachelor housing on an Army base.

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"Shit! Shitshhitshitshit!" Sarah quietly screamed, looking at the scrape on the back fender where she'd kissed the nearby post of the mall's underground parkade. Tears welled in her eyes. "What am I going to do?" she lamented, beginning to hyperventilate, as she considered her husband's response. She wasn't even supposed to be using his pride and joy, a maroon Carerra 4. She wouldn't have been either, except that her Audi was making weird noises.

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First off, let me say that rape is a heinous thing to inflict on anyone. Nobody in their right mind would suggest otherwise and I do consider myself to be in my right mind. When a friend became a victim of date rape I was as shocked, as supportive, as anyone but that was when we were in high school and I was much younger.

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