Your erotic stories

"Open to me. Open to Daddy."

And I spread my legs for him.

Before that, he had pushed me back gently onto the thick carpet on the moss covering the little sun-spackled glen. He had me kneel before him and take his beautiful, huge cock into my mouth, where I worked it up to over nine inches of hardness to the sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the other jogger emitting little sighs and moans of pleasure.

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I'd not long returned from my morning 8k run and still had an adrenaline buzz so, after checking my e-mails I decided to have a scroll through a couple of my favourite porn sites and have a nice leisurely wank, when there was a knock on my flat door. As I approached the door I rearranged my stiff cock to avoid any embarrassment. When I opened the door halfway to see who the caller was my jaw nearly hit the floor like a Tom & Jerry cartoon.

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Late July is a time for some serious heat on the I-15 corridor between Las Vegas and San Bernardino, and the temperature was well over 100 F degrees still, even in the early evening. Most people looked at the Dakota pickup full of scrap metal and wondered why the Iowa plated pickup was so far from home and so heavily loaded as the driver exited I-215 southbound for I-10 eastbound.

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Laura and I had arrived in Jamaica only four hours before. We hadn’t been ballsy enough to bring our own pot and decided that we needed to look for some. As everyone knows, the island is swimming in the stuff and we didn’t think there would be any problem.

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It started out as a fantasy. I'd stumbled across a website that provided an in-depth and intriguing view on the psychology of cuckolding. Originally a 'cuckold' was a man with an unfaithful wife. It was a scornful epithet back in the day. But more recently, it's evolved into a fetish - a fetish often practiced by intellectuals and those looking for more than just the physical parts of being in a relationship.

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"Are you kidding me! Look George this remodel is already three weeks behind schedule...I don't care, I'm not going to wait another month to have the counters done. Find some new guys... more expensive? I knew that was coming. Alright, ...tomorrow then, bye."

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It was the fall of 2001. Some of my girlfriends and I had decided to go to a local professional wrestling event. The main event that night was between somebody named Buff Bagwell and this massive guy named Onyx. If anyone reads this and remembers that card, you'll remember me. It was not this match that got to me. Actually it was a match much earlier in the show. It featured a guy named The Big Voodoo Daddy. He wrestled some guy, if memory serves me right, named "Loverboy" Dennis Condrey. Well, "Loverboy" was not anything like his nickname.

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Jake Hughes, the owner of Blue Sky Horse Farm, sat at his kitchen table sipping coffee as he stared out the window at what could only be described as a gloomy Saturday morning. Overnight rains had left the farm drenched and a heavy fog had set in, obscuring his view of the mountains that encircled the pastures where his horses grazed. The house was quiet and dark and it was times like this that he was most lonely.

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Saturday night, and you are goin' out! Mothers of Boston hide your sons. Your husband, Steve, is out of town for another conference - this is ten weeks in a row - and your best friend Joanne wants to take you to a local club. She says it's where she goes when she wants to let loose, play a little pool, maybe flirt a bit. (and we KNOW how you like to flirt!) You're wearing your new red short wraparound skit and a white silk blouse, and you look at yourself in the mirror.

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Martin sat in the dark of his bedroom and stared out the window into the night. His modest home where he and his wife June had raised their 3 children was quiet now. He could hear June breathing softly in her sleep. The dog rustled and snorted in his sleep but Martin was still awake. He was nearing retirement and the accounting of his retirement capital wasn't looking too good. Though he had worked consistently and hard through his 40+ years of employment, the money just did not seem to stick to his savings account.

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