Your erotic stories

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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Sex with my wife had been as hot as ever since my first massage with Alex. I wouldn't say the experience has directly made our sex life any better or worse but I do feel a more confident. My concern that is would alter my sexuality was unfounded. I still found my wife extremely attractive and arousing. My wife has a great body and I look upon it with lust every time I see her. I was comfortable that I wasn't gay; despite having had what one would have to admit was a gay experience.

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"You will wear the blue skirt!" she tells me, reaching to pull it out of the closet. I am already wearing the corset; black satin, laced, long suspenders linked on to sheer black stockings. Fishnet, she says, is tacky. Personally I think the whole suspenders-and-stockings thing is tacky, and much prefer bare flesh, but then, it's not for me to decide.

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My wife Maggie and her friend Cheryl had decided to get tickets for the "The Nutcracker Ballet" that was going to be preformed in the city a couple of hours away from where we live. They bought the tickets about 4 months ahead of the show that was to take place between Christmas and New Years. Cheryl and Maggie had been friends for over 20 years and both had worked hard at keeping there girlish looks. Maggie is about 5'6", 36, 24, 36, and 120lbs with cute C cups and a beautiful round ass.

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It's a fairly common misconception in many schools... boys are better at math, and girls are better with language. When people find out for the first time that I majored in or teach mathematics, many find it exceptional that a woman would have that interest. What's strange, though, is the thought that someone whose main interest is a left-brained activity like math would not be able to do as well with English language arts.

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We'd only lived in the neighbourhood a few weeks, so when I first saw him mowing the lawn as I pulled into the driveway, I thought it might have been my own mistake. But no, I checked the house number, and I saw my wife's car in the other parking spot, so I knew I was in the right place. I shrugged and got out of the car. I reached back in for my briefcase, and then watched the young man mowing our lawn as I walked to the front door.

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The room was quiet. It was cluttered with clothes, text books, computer parts, and basically random crap. Bunk beds were stacked in one corner, and two college freshmen were lying awake. On the bottom bunk Mary was having a hard time falling asleep. She was wearing a tight t-shift, and sweat pants. Those being enough to keep her warm, she had kicked off her covers. She was staring up at the top bunk wondering if her roommate was asleep yet.

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I was bartending at a restaurant I work at in a tourist town. One night an attractive couple came in and we enjoyed a nice chat. The womans name was Bridgette, and she had a French accent, very attractive with short, dark hair, a gorgeous smile on her painted lips. Her man, David, was a good looking guy, short curly hair, and a goatee. They were Canadian.

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