Your erotic stories

My wife Angie and I have been married for seven years and despite having had two children Angie had kept her figure, she was a slim 34 year old woman with long blond hair and small to average, but beautifully formed breasts. We have had a good but not very adventurous love life. Angie would give me oral sex, usually while I was returning the favour but never allowed me to cum in her mouth. We had discussed anal sex but she had considered it too painful and dirty.

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I was on my stomach. My tongue nestled in Georgie's ass crack as she also lay on her stomach on the bed in front of me. She was sucking Chas's cock – her husband. Behind her, I was slowly moistening her anus, in preparation for what I was about to give her. Around my waist was my new blue jelly dong, complete with the strap on attachment that would allow me to fuck my best friend in the ass.

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"Good thing we left early. We need gas," Angela told her husband, Kurt. He grunted, not happy with the announcement, but taking it in stride. He was nervous. His kid brother was going to propose to his girlfriend tonight, and he'd invited the whole gang out to witness it. So, they were on their way to a posh drinking spot - formal ware required. So, Angela was in a beautiful blue silk evening gown, and Kurt was in a fancy black tie affair he'd had to rent.

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The Piper Malibu bumped and rocked as it touched down on the airstrip in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing around the 4000-foot concrete pad except a couple of hills, a whole bunch of desert and some mountains barely visible through the shimmering heat on the horizon. The plane rolled to a stop and headed straight back up the runway and aimed at one of the large hills off to the side. As the plane came closer the front half of the hill slid apart to reveal a large hanger with several smaller planes parked inside.

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College classes are bad enough without falling behind. Between the sheer volume of classes and my work obligations that barely covered my living expenses, it was inevitable that something would give. Biology became the threatened species of my class load. Mrs. Gail Hannity was my Biology instructor. Smart, precise, and really quite beautiful, it was entirely possible that she was a major contributor to my in-class distraction.

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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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For the past sixteen months, my sex life has been scaled back to what I would call "ordinary." My husband and I moved to Hong Kong with our children for a temporary assignment with his company that ended just two weeks ago. We decided before we left home that it would be best to leave our fetishes behind because we would be closely "supervised" by our host country.

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You came and picked me up and we headed south to our destination. The drive took us a few hours and for most of it we talked about inconsequential things. After we had left the city and were cruising down the highway, I lent over and rested my hand on your pants above your cock. We'd talked about this and you knew what I wanted to do, I could see the grin of anticipation on your face as you quickly glanced at me.

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Suzanne Waters woke up just in time to see Kayla Lane exiting the motel room. Seeing the pretty 18-year-old dressed in a short black skirt and a tight fitting red tee-shirt affirmed Suzanne's notion that Kayla wasn't simply making a run to the vending machines, especially since Kayla had been in a pair of pajamas when Suzanne went to bed less than an hour ago. Suzanne jumped out of bed and grabbed the pair of jeans draped over the chair in the corner and quickly sliding them up her long, sexy, legs.

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"You've got to talk to me, Babe." His fingers trailed down her throat...down her chest...over the curve of her breast, the nails leaving the slightest trace of redness in their wake. Her body arched instinctively, hungry for his touch. She writhed there, tugging at the nylon cuffs that kept her wrists bound over her head.

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