Your erotic stories

Two middle age men walk down a rain-soaked street on a dark night, and a small neon sign directs them down an alleyway. JIGGLE HUT, it reads. A bright red door at the end of the alleyway is well worn and has a big 'JH' painted on it in yellow. Marcus, the taller of the two, pushes it open and they walk in. Dark stale air glows with dim purple light, and bass heavy music throbs. A fat man on a stool that's way too small for him looks them over.

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It all started on Saturday night when my wife (Patricia) and myself ( Ray) went out for supper and a few drinks with her sister Silenia and her husband Joesph. We went to this new BBQ type restaurant located not far from our place. We arrived a few minutes early at the restaurant and decided to grab a quick drink in the lounge before Silenia and Joesph arrived. We sit down and ordered our drinks. I look at wife and admired what she's wearing, a v-neck type blouse that's open enough to show some cleavage.

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Sharon and I have been married close to seven years now, and for the most part it's been great. The sex isn't as plentiful or varied as it was at first, but I gather that's par for the course. I've never felt the need to have sex with anyone else, unless you count Bruno. I consider myself completely straight, but a while back I bought a dildo (that's Bruno) and I like to use it on myself whenever I get a chance. Even that had purely heterosexual origins.

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It was hot as hell, and I still had three more lawns to mow. It was the drawback to making most of my summer money doing yardwork. Graduation was only a few weeks behind me, and college and its expenses loomed ominously over my head. Fortunately, I was going to a local school, but I still had a commute, and books were going to kill me. Anyhow, I'd started early that morning, as soon as the dew was out of the grass, but after two yards already, it was just after noon and the sun pounded down.

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As I watched Jen skip back from the DVD player and nestle in next to me on the sofa, I took a minute to think how lucky I was. It was a Saturday night last November at my flat in London. My girlfriend, Jen, a beautiful 30-year old, petite but with a 36C bust and long, black hair, had just put on a porn film entitled "Five in a Bed", for us to watch together. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday night, right?

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"They are incorrigible." Liz sighed as her sister, Mandy, started again on the same complaining track about Liz's twin sons. "William and Benedict have no manners and I honestly think they're immoral, I said so to Donald last time we spoke and he agreed." Donald was Mandy's quiet husband and it was difficult for Liz to picture him getting animated over such an issue.

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#2- Milk Maid Adam had been called to the South Pole with less than a day's notice. "It's a once in a lifetime chance," he'd said sadly, "If I don't do it now it'll never happen." It was likely a good thing there wasn't much time to talk about it -- to debate the pros and cons. Still, Violet found herself standing at the airport in a state of shock -- a one-month-old baby on her hip and the love her life en route to spend six months at the coldest place on Earth in a location where even email was barely available, let alone the internet.

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"Come in please, Carol." It was Carol's supervisor, David Jenkins who was speaking. He was sitting at his desk and didn't look up at her as she stood hesitantly in the doorway to his office. He continued to look at his computer screen which Carol couldn't see from where she was standing.

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My name is Waylon Fielding and I am married to a wonderful woman, my wife Celine Fielding. I would like to say that my life is perfect, or even good, but after two years of marriage I'm pretty freaking miserable and it's all Celine's fault. Actually, it really isn't her fault; it's her Mother's, the lovely Melissa Harmon.

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Katherine stumbled out onto the uneven back stoop, audibly groaning under the weight of the heavy-duty trash bag. It was full of crumbled plaster and strips of wooden lathe and swung ponderously, threatening to pull her over with each uncertain step. As her foot slipped on the sloping stone slab she overcompensated and was forced to let the bag drop with a heavy crunch. Catching herself with a sideways grab at the door frame, she slammed backwards into the peeling paint of the old wood siding.

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