Your erotic stories

Lynn and I have been married for forty-one years and even though we're in our sixties, I'm sixty-five, she's sixty-two, we sure haven't given up on sex. For her fortieth birthday, I gave Lynn a new pair of boobs and she did it just right, had them brought back up to spec without blowing them up like a porn star. So, naked, she looks good, really good.

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Every year William and I hold our "Come as You Bizarre" party. Everyone is required to dress in a way they never would in real life, in a way that would make their friends laugh, cry or recoil in shock. Last year I was a Playboy bunny, the year before, a scantily clad wench. This year, I chose a skin tight black wet-look catsuit, one that showed off every single curve of my body.

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There was a tiny problem with taking showers where I lived then. No, it wasn't that other people used up my soap and shampoo, because I wisely kept them in my room. And wasn't that the lock was broken and sometimes people would walk in on me, because that was kind of exciting (they were mostly boys). And it wasn't that this shower sometimes went freezing cold with no warning, although that was very annoying and could be a real o-killer.

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This is the true and actual story of how I became a bonafide cocksucker. Well, other than my own cock, which I have plenty of experience with. During my years of exploring myself I had become flexible enough not only to suck my own cock but even deepthroat it as well. The first time I came in my mouth it was magic.

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"Are you kidding me! Look George this remodel is already three weeks behind schedule...I don't care, I'm not going to wait another month to have the counters done. Find some new guys... more expensive? I knew that was coming. Alright, ...tomorrow then, bye."

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"I'll take a double," said Dan as he settled onto the couch. "On it," Megan called back as she took the bottle of rum from Kara and pulled it to her lips. She took a wet swig and then topped off three full glasses. The girls' ground floor apartment was just down the path from the pool. After a good swim, the invitation for a drink sounded just right.

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I woke up to find a strange man looking into my bedroom window on the seventeenth floor. Fight-or-flight kicked in first, and I jerked awake, sitting bolt upright. My body didn't know if it should leap from the bed, or jump into a fighting stance. And then my brain caught up and noticed two things at the same time.

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"Could you hand me that blanket?" she says as she takes off Nick's shoes. "Yeah, sure," he answers getting the blanket from the cedar chest. "Thanks," she says taking it from him and spreading it over her boyfriend, pulling it up to his chest. She gets up to leave and he catches her hand, mumbling, "Where'r ya goin?"

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All characters are 18+. This is my first submitted story and I would welcome any advice on how to further improve my writing skills. Enjoy! ***** The back door was shut slowly. A quiet wine emanating from the hinges as the latch flicked into place. A small, young raven haired girl turned around. Her beady eyes looking towards the clock upon the kitchen wall. It read 1:36.

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I chose my route home from work with some care, because I like to look at the hookers by the airport. I usually count the obvious ones, the ones that are dressed to sell themselves and are looking for a score. I just like to look... the thought of tempting fate by hiring one is a little bit much for me. You never know when you're picking up a cop on a sting operation, or the carrier of some horrible disease. But seeing the girls out selling sex was always a turn on for me.

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