Your erotic stories

The steaming water hit my skin, rinsing away the sweat and the stress from the work-week. I'd started my Friday night workouts a year ago after breaking up with my girlfriend, and they've become a tradition. The gym's quiet in the evenings, letting me take my time as I work myself to exhaustion, leaving me feeling light-headed and refreshed - and more than a little horny, too. Working my muscles always leaves me feeling like that, and I enjoy stretching it out before I head home to jerk off.

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We were all sitting around playing cards on one Friday night. You see, my wife, Kim, and I play poker as a team with two other married couples. One couple is Stan and Joanne. She is absolutely beautiful. Twenty five years old and five feet eleven inches tall; she truly is a statuesque brunette. Her blue eyes make her look just like an actress. If only it was a porn actress, I secretly wished.

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I am Darlene, a Divorced woman 32 year old, living near a military base. I am entering my sexual prime. During the recent deployments from the base, I have made it my hobby to make servicemen on leave from deployment submissive to me. I do this by connecting with men online while they are still overseas and obviously in need of female attention.

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Every day for the past six months, I walk my dog on a quiet bay beach. While the ocean beaches here in the Hamptons are among the most beautiful beaches in the world, the bay beaches ain't chopped liver. Plus the facts that I can walk him anytime I want as long as I pick up after him (the town has plastic doggie-bag dispensers in the parking area), that it's close to where I live and that during the week, it is usually empty, makes this beach ideal.

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Some would say its dangerous to backpack alone, but given that I was going to a reasonably well known hot spring, I assumed that even though it was the middle of the week I would see others on the trail and at the spring. I was quite surprised to see no one along the trail, and only one tent with two horses near the hot springs.

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You know what it's like when you lust after someone, really lust? Why is it that you lust after those you can't have? I suppose it's the same thing with those girls that follow boy bands around hoping they can bed the lead singer and knowing full well they never will.

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I was invited to a party that was being given by a friend of a friend. I had never met the guy, but my friend said he knew every chick in town. Being nineteen and not that sexually experienced, that sounded good to me. He told me to just meet him there and gave me the address.

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I hear the hiss and screech of another train arriving at the platform down below the main level of Alewife station, the end of the Red Line. A metallic smell rises up the stairs on the gust of hot air displaced by its arrival. The doors open with a whoosh, and the clamor of passengers starts up the stairs and the escalator. My stomach clenches as the first faces come into view and the travelers file toward the turnstiles. The Saturday afternoon herd is thin, so it's easy to dismiss the men who come up from the platform: not alone, too short, dark hair, headed straight for the door.... The process of elimination continues until it's clear to me that that was not your train.

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As a college freshman at a state school in the Rocky Mountains, I was a pretty conservative guy, especially considering all the boozing, drugs, and wild sex that was running rampant in my coed dorm. My high school years were very low key; I had dated the same girl since sophomore year, swam competitively, and studied hard. At university, I was in way over my head as a mechanical engineering major and the freshman weed-out courses were giving me hell. I drank a little on the weekends, but most of my free time was spent studying.

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