Your erotic stories

Sometimes me and Mike just love to go out, pick up a slut or a stud, or a couple of them, and have ourselves nasty threesomes or foursomes. Lately we've really been getting off on picking up guys, especially since about a year ago I got my husband to start messing around with bi guys, even a few gay guys, bringing out Mike's 'bi' side, which I soon discovered was a big part of him.

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Charli was ass horny. She called it "the feeling" mostly because the first time she had an anal orgasm was when she was getting it in her ass doggy style from her then boyfriend, Mark, and that Black Eyed Peas song was playing. That, and for her, "A good night" started or ended with an anal orgasm.

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She is not classically beautiful. Her face is rather flat with bland cheekbones, her lips do not have the fullness of a true beauty and her nose is rather podgy with slightly flared nostrils. She is though stunning to look at because of her eyes. They are large and delightfully, almond shaped in a deep, onyx green colour.

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This is the true and actual story of how I became a bonafide cocksucker. Well, other than my own cock, which I have plenty of experience with. During my years of exploring myself I had become flexible enough not only to suck my own cock but even deepthroat it as well. The first time I came in my mouth it was magic.

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The bar was reassuring warm after the cold night. I shook the rain of my jacket and ordered a cold beer. It had been a long day, or more like a long week. I'd been working the weekend shift and had been doing 14 hours a day for eight days now. My mind and body ached and the only thing that I was thinking was my much needed days off.

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I can't believe I'm the only guy who loves his wife, fancies his wife and desires his wife so much, he wants someone else to fuck her. Some guys might understand what I'm saying and others might think I'm making excuses for the fact that I can't possibly love her if I have thoughts such as these. The thoughts would have remained fantasies as my wife, Ellie, would never have entertained the thought of going with another man.

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His name was Roland and he was from Jamaica. I'm guessing he was about 30. He had deep ochre skin, eyes that were almost black, closely-cropped hair, and was tall, lean and very graceful. At one point in his life he'd been a dancer, but was now a set designer for one of the larger theater companies in Amsterdam. He was just a little bit effeminate, and overtly gay.

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Valentine's Day was approaching and my husband didn't know what to get me. I had gone through a weight loss and was feeling confident enough to start showing off my body a bit more. His gift to me was handing me the credit card and telling me to go pick out some new lingerie. I could get whatever made me feel sexy. He gave me the name of a small boutique that he had been to and had several things he would like to see me in, but he wouldn't tell me what they were.

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Since my husband passed away a few years ago I haven't been in a significant relationship. It didn't find any joy in going through the process of finding a man, figuring out if I liked him, and if he liked me, and then determining what we both wanted from each other. My marriage with my husband had been fantastic. We got along well and raised two wonderful children. We had a great, although not wild, sex life. We were both very passionate, but not compulsive.

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My head was spinning as I closed the door behind me. I could hardly believe we even had the conversation we just did, and that I'm actually going out to look for a woman for a threesome with my wife – if I can find her for tonight. A thousand things are going through my mind. How am I going to find a girl at all, much less one who will do what we want?

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