Your erotic stories

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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She entered the stairwell and launched herself at the stairs, taking them two at time. She reached her apartment in no time, and was soon inside her place, locking the door behind her. She shed her clothing as she moved through the apartment, freeing her long, dark hair. She shook her head back and forth gently, causing the ends to caress the soft skin at the small of her back. She shivered slightly, nipples hardening, and made her way to the phone. She dialed her best friend's number and started to sing as it was answered.

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I lay on the bed, naked, spread, bound at three corners. Only my right arm is free, holding in a numb hand my vibrator, waiting. Finally you come to me, and sitting down, your weight dips the bed, creating a well of gravity that I can feel, pulling my helpless body towards you.

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It was Sarani and me at the table, and Wygotzki and Cherkov playing cards by the door, keeping an eye on the dirt track leading up to the cabin. We were waiting for the batch to arrive, but it wouldn't be in for hours. Needless to say, we were bored. Somehow, we began talking about sex.

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I imagine you coming home tonight, surprised how all your snow chores are done. You walk into the house and it's warm, there's a light in the kitchen, and you enter, curious about what you'll find. As you enter I turn around and smile. I've been hard at work at the stove, cooking our diner. You can tell that a soup is bubbling away, perfect for this cold winter night.

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You greet me with a nod and a glance. I know I have to obey your instructions and walk into your room silently. I stand there as you walked around me, touching my clothes, a single finger tracing my form. Standing face to face, you grab the collar of my shirt and, expressionless, you rip it open and shred it from my body.

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As I drive to your house I think about our lives. Both new members of the single parent club, it is hard for us to find time to be alone together but we always do. You don't live that far away, but when my pussy is wet and throbbing as I think of you it seems like I will never get there. Finally, I turn off the main road and am that much closer to you. The road turns to dirt and through the field and trees I see the back of your property where you took me to look at shooting stars.

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"Nice meat, Pops...is that hard on for me?" I opened my eyes, my hard cock still cupped in my palm as I sat nude in my hot tub. My son's girlfriend, Dana was standing on the deck, smiling at me, naked. "You're blushing," Dana giggled, which made her firm young tits jiggle invitingly. My manhood surged towards greater fullness, bobbing in the water as if greeting our guest.

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Nine o'clock on a Tuesday and I'm in bed reading. I feel you in the doorway before I see you. I look up to say hello and the words die in my mouth as our eyes meet. Intimidating is a word most people would use to describe my half of our couple. You're the affable one that everybody loves. You're the perfect boyfriend.

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The bedroom was filled with the constant yet broken sounds of bed springs squeaking under the rhythmic thrusts of a man into his woman. But it wasn't the bed making the noise; it was Cindy who groaned intermittently with sharp, feminine 'coos' and 'ahhs' that were neither exaggerated nor too quiet to discern. Matching her steady pattern of moans and no doubt causing them was the driving of Carl's rigid seven inches into that sweet spot between Cindy's thighs.

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