Your erotic stories

“What’s the matter, Lizzie?” Sarah’s hands squeezed my shoulders and her hair brushed my cheek as she leaned over to peek at the papers strewn over the desk. “I think this is my 20th hang up in a row tonight,” I complained, rolling my eyes toward the phone. “They finish half this stupid survey and decide it’s too long and hang up.”

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Penny finished off her drink and set it down on the table. She eased herself off the stool, mindful that her short skirt didn't rise too high on her slender legs. Picking up her empty glass, Penny turned to make her way through the other partygoers towards the wet bar. Along the way, the pretty blonde girl scanned the room for her friend, Jenna, who had brought her here in the first place.

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Wow what a party. When I married my wife I had no idea who else I was actually "marrying". My wife's family it turned out really liked a good party. My wife had a mother that wanted everybody to have a good time and often ran the family functions with a theme. I have no idea why it was done like this, but my wife's family interpretation of a pirates theme was for most of the women to dress like wenches and it was pretty shocking! My three sisters-in-law were all there along with a bunch of cousins my age.

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The following story depicts plenty of male and female bisexuality, plus several fetishes such as anal, spitting, cum swapping and smoking. If you are offended by the notion of sexual acts between two men please don't read this story. This chapter has been revised and expanded. More chapters will follow soon.

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Prologue It was close to midnight when Sarah Mason awoke in her bedroom from a bad night's sleep. With tears flowing down her cheeks, she sobbed heavily, her breathing erratic and uncontrolled, her facial expressions ridden with angst and pain. A lamp was switched on in the hallway outside and quietly her brother, John Mason standing six feet one, opened the door to her bedroom and made his way inside.

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We broke up for a lot of reasons, Angela and I, as people always do. It was the laundry that triggered it. We must have squabbled over the laundry at least a dozen times before, but for whatever reason, this time the proverbial camel collapsed under the pressure. I'd been putting through load after load, trying to get through it all before she got home from work, hoping she'd appreciate coming home to a tidier living space.

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There was pussy, pussy everywhere, but not a cock to fuck. Not that I was complaining, encircled as I was by so many lusty young nymphs entangled together around me on the large, luxurious bed, writhing in a fleshy heap of shameless female fucking. Everywhere I looked were healthy bouncing boobies and firm willowy waists, pierced belly buttons glimmering with diamonds and gold...

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I wasn't really all about the party. I knew maybe four people there, and while it was a pretty chill affair, I couldn't help but feel like I wanted to be at home doing something else. Of course I was looking for the good looking girls- and there were a few- most of whom either had boyfriends or just wouldn't be interested in me. When that happens, when I can see there's no connection there, a woman's attractiveness becomes abstract real fast, like art on the wall; pretty, but you don't want to fuck it.

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Life was good for a marauder. Here they sat -- circled around a bonfire, roaring and laughing, a successful week of raiding and plundering behind them -- now with beautiful, buxom wenches riding their cocks. It had taken quite some effort for these great warriors to arrive at this place with such bounty.

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Have you seen her? You probably know, or perhaps can remember, a girl like her. She's the cute girl who sits in the back of the classroom and never says anything to anyone. She quietly takes her notes and leaves when class is over. Sometimes those kind of girls have secrets. Wonderful, naughty secrets.

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