Your erotic stories

Hi, my name is Terrie. My best friend at the time I was about 20 was a male. His name is Jim. We had grown up together having lived side by side (in adjoining rooms) since we were infants. We had never been anything but friends from a sexual standpoint although we pretty much knew each other's sexual secrets and histories.

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"Depressed? Damn straight I'm depressed. Waking up to find your, 'man,' the same guy you'd being screwing all evening, getting butt fucked by some dude can do that to you. Hell, I'd have to be crazy not to depressed." Sue Cangilosi finished her tirade by draining her fifth "Harvey Wallbanger" and then gave Cindy Davis a sad smile. "So what makes you think I'm depressed?"

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I love being a good little league Mom, but I also have a dark side that needs quenched from time to time. This day would quench that need in me, and then some, with an unexpected meeting after the game. "Play Ball!" After sitting through a little league game, I was upset with the young umpire that made some horrendous calls.

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I found one way to connect with other men looking for some fun was on chat lines on the phone. There were a few that were free although many charged for the service and you could get on and find others interested in the same thing you were interested in. The particular time I'm thinking about started off as many of them did with me getting an invitation to talk with another guy about what it was we were looking for. During the course of the first few minutes it became clear that he was looking for a man to come over and give him a blow job.

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My father-in-law is tall and well-built, with really sexy bedroom eyes. But I hardly gave Daddy Jim—the pet name I gave him to distinguish him from my husband, who is also named Jim—a second thought, except for the times we went out to visit him, so we could use his pool. Sometimes, when my Jim had to work on the weekends, I drove out there by myself to swim and work on my tan. One Saturday morning about a month ago, pulling into his driveway, I noticed a strange car parked in front of the garage.

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I suppose a lot of people would consider me to be a slut now. But I don't think it's my fault, really. I mean, what else could have happened? I was one of those girls who started to flower into womanhood early. I was a skinny young girl who wore a B-cup brassiere when I was still in the sixth grade. I was completely embarrassed by my development. I dressed to avoid showing my rapidly blossoming femininity. Layered clothing became the norm along with a shoulders-hunched-forward posture.

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The phone rang once. I groaned, stirring from dreams as deep as the blue eyes I had been dreaming about. The phone rang twice. I sat up and gave the phone two middle fingers. The phone rang again. "FUCK!" I shouted, lunging myself across the silk sheets to pick the damned thing up.

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I hated it when they first built the thing. It came up almost over night, and when the construction noises faded I thought I'd have peace. No such luck. The sounds of jackhammers and cement mixers were replaced with the endless endless clattering roll of skateboards. The skate park was an atrocity that could not stand, and I was determined to see its eyesore slopes and rails and endless graffiti tags bulldozed to the ground and repaved over.

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I had never considered cheating on my wife, Melissa. We had been married for four years now, and had a pretty hot sex life. The only real serious challenge we'd encountered was that I was heavily into anal sex, and although my wife was willing, we had difficulty making the reality happen. Part of the problem is that I have a very large penis. It's about nine inches long, and two inches thick. I have difficulty getting it all the way in just about any woman's holes, and my wife was no exception.

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I don't really care much for politics. I'm neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I'm not liberal or conservative. I'm just -- well somewhere between Independent and "I don't give a shit." Therefore some might consider it very strange -- I know that my parents did -- that in early July, 2011, I took a sabbatical from college to work on Republican Colorado Senator June Jepson's presidential campaign. The reason -- I was fascinated by her.

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