Your erotic stories

I grew up a very attractive girl. I kept my brown hair about chin length and have what I consider to be a wonderful smile. My tummy is not a fit as some but I keep it trim enough for my taste. My legs are long, firm yet slightly larger than most girls. I have a nice bottom that is well rounded from the only exercise I ever did as a kid -- weightless squats.

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You find it slightly hard to believe he even thinks you would consider doing this. The first time you saw it on a porn film you were fascinated but utterly repelled: a woman being deeply sodomised and then, when the man withdrew, spinning rapidly round as if eager, dropping to her knees and taking his glistening penis directly, deeply, apparently greedily into her mouth. How could she do that? What did it taste like? Was it safe?

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It's a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon and we are lying in the park. I have my head in your lap, listening to you reading snippets from a magazine as you lazily stroke my hair. My eyes drift closed and I start to get lost in the sound of your voice, your touch, and I think of what I what I want you to be doing to me. I open my eyes just the slightest bit, focus on the shape of your lips and am mesmerized. Your lips can leave the sweetest kisses, yet elicit such desire as they burn across my body.

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The July afternoon was hot and brilliant, the sun beating down from a cloudless sky as she stood in the doorway, looking out into her backyard. She was alone with her thoughts, which were now just so much kindling for the summer weather that always made her feel lusty. Holding a cold, sweating glass of lemonade, she was on her way out to sit in a lounge chair when he crossed her mind and she felt her legs get a little weak.

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To some guys, my wife Cynthia is every man’s dream girl. She may not be a centerfold, but she is all woman. Standing just under 5-5 in her stockings, her firm 34B breasts make her Victoria's Secret bras proud. Her long legs are finely displayed when she wears flowing skirts which end a few inches above her knees, and most are shocked when told that Cyndi is 35-years-old.

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This is another true story. This one took place several years ago at an old job I had. I met Jacey at work and immediately I noticed a sexual spark. She was a short girl, about 5'3" with jaw length straight blond hair with big brown eyes. She was 23 and I was 28. She had great skin with a few freckles here and there. I later found out her light bronze skin tone was because she went to the tanning bed.

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I glanced around nervously as Mya dug through her purse, searching for her keys. "What time is your boyfriend coming home again?" I asked, waiting impatiently as she continued rummaging. "Stop worrying about it?" she chided, pulling her keys from the purse, fumbling them in her drunken fingers. "He won't be back until the morning."

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He left me. Because of him I moved to this fucking city, away from my family and friends, away from my comfortable little world. I sit here in my small room, with nothing to comfort me except my cigarettes and bottle of cheap wine. Tomorrow I will feel even worse; lovesickness and headache is a bad mixture. The moon laughs down at me, his ugly yellow mug deriding me. I throw the cork of the bottle at him, but it only bangs against the window-glass.

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Gently closing her bedroom door, she felt her heart start to pound as her excitement rose. It was his birthday and time to prepare her special gift. On the dresser were the black garter belt and dark nylons she'd bought earlier in the day. She knew he'd love them -- a garter belt and stockings were among his greatest turn-ons, and hers, too.

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Shelby took a deep breath and tried to work the knot out of the muscles in her neck, again. She hated this, every time life got stressful, it manifested itself in a sore neck, tight shoulder and back, gimping her up from days. No amount of ibuprofen helped. A massage would, but, according to her current financial situation, there was no way she could afford the luxury of a professional massage.

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