Your erotic stories

I'm in my late twenties, now, and I'm married, for the second time. But when my wife isn't around, I still like to masturbate. I think my masturbation habit developed after my divorce, when I didn't get to fuck as regularly as I like. When I play with my cock I usually think about having sex with women. As I stroke and fondle my penis I think about sucking erect nipples and licking wet pussies and about having my cock sucked by horny nude sluts.

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The dictionary defines Valentine- a sweetheart chosen or complimented on Valentine's Day. I'm not sentimental or for that matter sensitive. At least, that is what I've often been told. You are so closed off! Unreachable! I disagree. I happen to have had a perfectly good reason for keeping my heart locked up. The problem, in my opinion, was with the people who never tried to slip by the barriers.

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We had known one another for about a year on that hot summers night, when I was just relaxing in the house, hanging out with Cathy and sitting in the garden drinking wine. Six of us were due to start sharing a student house in the Autumn of 2003. We'd all met in halls, all got along and decided to not go for the more intimate house shares, the twos and threes, of some of our friends, but instead to rent a large, six bedroomed "party house" in the middle of the town.

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I. I could feel the heat of his shaft inside; its sultry shivering mass filling me up - I could feel a steady warmth spreading from it, and the skin of my spine responding with atomic quivers. I almost begged for the moment to last just a few moments more; but did not complain when it moved onwards.

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I'm married, but have been in a rather dull marriage. After too many months of no sex with my husband I sought a lover. I've been involved in this affair for two years. My lover dominates me to the perfect degree of comfort for me. He has made me his whore, his slut, and I love being owned by him. We have done a little bit of swinging, and things edgy enough to make me crave his cock and stern hand. One thing that we haven't done that I want very badly is bringing another woman into our arrangement.

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Sitting at the computer in my office, the problem wasn't solving itself. I needed a break. I ran my fingers through my hair, leaned back, stretched my arms, moaned audibly and then decided to take a walk. I pushed my chair back from my desk, stood up and headed for the door. "Just taking a break Janine" I said to my secretary as I passed her. She looked up from her screen, her big blue eyes smiling.

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Circumstance meant the together with my wife and step-daughter we had to move into her parents' house for a couple of months. It was a tight squeeze and left many difficult moments in a small bungalow – her father being a miserable bastard who refused to speak to me. Her mother, Pam, was a good looking woman. She had got pregnant at the age of 16 and therefore was not that much older than us.

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I've always been a kid at heart. Even today at the age of 24, I still occasionally wear my hair in pigtails, I still suck my thumb when I sleep, and I love to wear short schoolgirl skirts with white cotton panties. I never really got the hang of high heels; I mainly wear white tennis shoes. Instead of a purse, I carry a backpack shaped like some fuzzy animal.

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It was May in California; a nice, sunny, warm day, and it was time for spring cleanup. My wife took her parents out of town for the weekend to visit relatives, so I took advantage of the time and decided I would trim the neighbor's overgrown trees hanging over our backyard fence. I am a 49 year old, 5' 6", 160 pound hairy Italian guy, with salt and pepper hair. I'm in decent shape and like to keep my balls and ass shaved and my bush trimmed short; just the way my wife likes.

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Like most women, I was never entirely satisfied with my appearance. I had always wanted bigger breasts - not huge, but... bigger. C cup. Maybe a D. And while I wasn't exactly 'fat', I had always been envious of slender women with narrow waists. So waking to find that, in addition to not being dead, I was possessed of a beautifully curved body was, well, something of a silver lining. I was black all over. Glossy. Like a life-size fetish doll. But like a child's doll, I had no nipples, and not even a suggestion of a pussy or an ass. I had no fingernails, no toenails, no hair.

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