Your erotic stories

Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Heather McCormick and I'm a thirty-something m.i.l.f. living in suburban Atlanta, Georgia. The story I'm about to tell you is the God's honest truth, and I wouldn't lie, because lying is a sin. Six months ago I was a slovenly 158 pounds of bored, impetuous, spoiled housewife. Now I am a svelte 115 pounds thanks to the Wulfwinter Weight Loss Clinic. Here's my story.

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"Remember, sex onstage is illegal. This isn't fucking Amsterdam. You can jerk yourself off a little, play with the other guys' cocks, but if you cum, it's all over. Got it? No blowing your load. No oral. No penetration of any kind. Not that the other guys'd let you—they're professionals and a lot of them're straight. Got it?"

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Jeff and Kris were a happily married couple. They had experimented sexually before their marriage, but with marriage and children, things had slowed down. They both wanted more time together, but struggled to balance it with the demands of life. Jeff decided to whisk Kris away for a vacation for two. He arranged for the kids to be taken care of while they were gone.

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So much preparation, planning, work on the venue and time spent on the costume. Elise and her best friend Thuy loved themed parties and would host one every chance they got. Last year's combined birthday bash was a gothic theme. The guests that came put in the effort and Elise and Thuy quickly realized that if a person was willing to dress up, they were willing to have fun. A "Hippy Barbeque" followed that summer, but it was time once again for the girls to celebrate their birthdays together. Thuy thought up the idea of a "Pimps n Hos" theme and ran it by Elise.

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It was a good night at the Crow's Nest Coffee House. The audience was larger than usual, probably because it was the beginning of the tourist season. My set went off without too many problems, rare when I'm working on new songs. At the end of the evening several people came up to the stage, where I was packing up my guitar, and commented on my playing.

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I woke Sunday morning, tired, and with burning eyes. I wasn't hungover from my graduation party the previous night, but my eyes were betraying me as if I had been. I rubbed them a bit and tried to open them again but still felt as if someone had rubbed in fiberglass. I laid back in the bed and thought about the previous night. I was upset that the my best female friend and current best friend had hooked up at the end of the night and that she had not chosen me.

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"Hey there Mrs. Kripke how are you, noticing she looked unusually more attractive then ever before. "I am fine Mr. Stephen," referring to the idea he seamed much more mature each time she saw him. "My, my Stephen haven't we grown, and matured even over the last several months. And how is college going too dear?" "Well as good as you said it would. I can't believe how much goes on, and all the time. It's crazy and I've met so many people too."

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From my late teens (my first discovery of porn beyond my dad's stash of Playboy magazines), I found myself more and more fascinated by watching blow jobs There was just something I liked about watching a big, hard cock sliding in and out of a mouth. The porn of those days often involved women like Desiree Cousteau and Seka and the like, and I also just love a great face and a firm set of boobs, but watching those lovely faces involved with those cocks was something special. There's something more personal about a face than there is about a pussy, however cute.

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"Do you understand this situation?" She stared intently at the ground, unable to speak. "I asked you a question." She bit her lip and remained silent. His hand darted out to grab her chin, forcing her to look into his cold eyes. "Y-yes."

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Dr. Randy Wolfe, PhD, stared with purpose into the bathroom mirror as he applied the last bit of near fluorescent, ruby red lipstick to his mouth. Setting it aside, he used a piece of toilet paper as a blotter to dab away any excess, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. Suddenly his deep voice began to reverberate off the walls and ceiling of the small bathroom.

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