Your erotic stories

I stopped swimming through the fluffy blackness of sleep. Yup. Time to wake up. The black took on a warm, deep tone, changing from the surreal darkness of dreamland to the darkness created by closed eyelids. I lay in that darkness and smiled to myself. Life felt very good. I took a deep breath.

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For the first 44 years of my life, I neither had, nor had considered any sexual liaisons with anyone of the same sex. This was until the following took place: Just to give you an idea of me, I am a tall slim (but not skinny) man, with short brown hair and blue eyes. I was in the car with my wife travelling to a music festival, we were having a row. I won't bore you with what it was about (as it's not particularly relevant) but it was getting quite heated and my wife's driving was becoming more erratic.

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It was summer. I was visiting with Sinéad (no, not that Sinéad), my aunt, in her very nice apartment in Chicago. Sinéad was 28 then, single, working, and not at home much. We would spend most of our together time on weekends, but I was pretty much left to my own devices during the week. I'd visited before from Ireland, but never alone or to stay for the whole summer.

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I had been married for 10 years but was newly divorced and on the dating scene again. I was raring to get out there, flaunt my stuff and have fun for once in my adult life. Since I was a bit older than most of my competition at the bars and clubs I hung out at, I had to work a little harder than the 20-somethings to make myself look "hot." I worked out five times a week, watched what I ate and I didn't smoke or drink more than a few glasses of wine with dinner.

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I don't really care much for politics. I'm neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I'm not liberal or conservative. I'm just -- well somewhere between Independent and "I don't give a shit." Therefore some might consider it very strange -- I know that my parents did -- that in early July, 2011, I took a sabbatical from college to work on Republican Colorado Senator June Jepson's presidential campaign. The reason -- I was fascinated by her.

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It was obvious that both Steve and I were both comfortable with the ground rules for our encounters changing, during our last adventure with Tracy I had encouraged Steve to break our 'no penetration' rule by actually taking charge of his cock and easing it between Tracy's wet swollen lips with my own fingers.

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"Holy shit." I said it out loud, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, mid-step, staring at the picture on my phone. "He's...hot." I scrolled the picture on the screen, increasing the size to get a closer look, noting it was a scan from the back of a book. "Oh, that's right," I thought, "He's a writer." He was definitely hot, for a guy the age of my parents. He had a thin nose and high forehead, dark eyes with fine lines at the corners, and dark hair that fell around his face in waves.

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I slid off my heavy backpack in the shade of a stand of Lodgepole Pine. It was 1980, the summer after I graduated from college. I had put life on hold to hike the Colorado Trail. I had no attachments, no appointments to keep, no place I had to be but on the trail and in the moment.

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Robert Kyle had finally had it. Everyday he allowed his American History class the last five minutes of the period to themselves. And everyday during those last five minutes, the female student sitting directly in front of him would do something to give him a raging hard-on. Dropping a pencil. Re-tying a shoelace. Tossing something in the wastebasket and missing by a mile. All three caused her to have to bend over.

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I had been chatting with a guy, lets call him Kurt, online for a little bit. He seemed nice and chill and was into me being a bit nervous and wanting to go at my own pace. I'd been fucked in the ass twice before and had experiences that made me want to try more. I also really enjoyed playing with toys. My first two times were with guys that were smaller and I wanted to try moving up in size.

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