Your erotic stories

This story is my entry for the 2013 Winter Holidays Story Contest so, if you like it, please remember to vote! Thanks for taking the time to read, and Merry Christmas to all! * Katy silently sprinkled the last of the sparkling dust across the snow and looked up at the clear, night sky, watching for reindeer. Seeing the sky empty except for stars, she turned to admire her handiwork; the blanket of snow wrapped around her house shimmered with the silvery dust.

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One evening, when I was taking a nap after a long day of productive work, the doorbell rang. I usually didn't open my door unless I was expecting someone, but I guess I was tired, since this time I did it without thinking. Behind the door were standing three women dressed in identical mannish-looking but femininely cut suits and ties. Two of them were wearing sunglasses even though it was evening and they were indoors.

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You couldn't forget Crystal. Beautiful, tall, with long black hair, dark green eyes and a full mouth that was usually laughing at something or someone, and always painted with a startling red lipstick. Her full tits clamoured for your attention, invariably only just contained by the fabric of some immaculate designer outfit, worn with high black boots with higher heels. But the most memorable thing among the many things about Crystal was what you saw when she walked away - her broad and glorious arse.

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She couldn't believe this was happening. Her heart was beating hard and fast. She could feel the pulse in her throat and hear the rapid thrum of it in her ears. She felt warm and flushed, even though she was completely naked. The surface she lay on was soft and molded comfortably under her. The fur tickled gently along the edges of her skin. She was acutely aware of the kiss of it against the lips of her freshly shaven labia.

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I met Gwen at the restaurant, where I went for breakfast every morning, before work, after my wife, Linda, left me for a younger man. Just as I had no idea she had a lover, I didn't know my wife was unhappy enough to leave me. I mean, now that I think about it, she was pretty miserable, but what wife isn't? With everything, including sex so routine and predictable, the romance fizzles, after being married for a while. Still, totally clueless, I thought everything was the routine same, until it wasn't and until she was no longer there to cook breakfast.

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I recommend that you read chapter 1 and 2 before delving into chapter 3, but here is a quick recap reminder of what happened. Eighteen year old Kevin Lansing came home to find his older sister Hannah licking his twin sister Kristen's hot pussy. He quickly stripped down and joined in on the filthy fun, where plenty of licking, sucking, tonguing and fucking took place. Later, their mother Krystal, a dominant mistress, and father Kevin, a submissive pet, came home and the fun continued. After some punishment was served to Hannah, Krystal devised a blowjob contest between the sisters.

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Kimberly stood peeking through the curtains into her back yard, feeling deliciously naughty. Her children were away with her ex-husband for the summer, so there was really nothing standing in the way of a little fun. Outside, Chase pulled off his shirt, and she got chills from the sight of his muscular torso. Her eyes dropped to his waist, and she let out a quiet moan as she drank in the V formed by his abdominal muscles vanishing into his shorts.

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Chapter 1 I still live in the small city that I grew up in. My father had started a small car dealership which I now run and, even though there are ups and downs, it has done pretty well. I've had my own ups and downs as well, I suppose most of us have. My biggest up, I think was the birth of my son seven years ago and my biggest down, by far, was the death of my wife a couple of years ago when he was in preschool.

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I was woken suddenly, swearing under my breath. Another four in the morning phone call. I'd stopped answering them a while ago, as it was always the same shit. My ex, Jo, was lonely and probably drunk or high, wanting to tell me she still loved me, berate me for being a shitty person, or some combination of the two. I'd received three such calls the previous weekend, each more incoherent than the last - she'd clearly been on a bender for her nineteenth birthday.

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Like any other good day, today started out with my wonderful Dom tying me up. Nothing puts me in a better mood than feeling the touch of rope on my skin -- the only thing that centers me more is feeling his hand in my hair as I kneel in front of him.

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