Your erotic stories

In the early spring moonlight, the back of the river seemed to lift and heave like the body of a snake, flowing over rocks and stumps, braiding its way through copses of saplings on the flooded banks, pooling and forming eddies as it washed around the concrete pilings of the bridges. "What does that remind you of?" I asked her as we drove along. "What does that make you think of?"

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She woke from dreams where she was trapped in ice, immobile; eyes wide open but only perceiving the outside world as multicoloured shadows. She tried to stretch her arms, to reach out to the side of the bed for some familiar object, or even up to the pillow, just to be certain she was anchored again to reality, but she could not move.

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"I knew you were unique as soon as I saw you in the club." She clutched his arm firmly, her head resting against his shoulder. The fact that she held his arm against her left breast was a nice bonus to the close physical contact. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Do I have a dark aura or something?" She looked up at him, smiling sweetly, her red-painted lips making that small facial gesture all the more prominent underneath the street lamp. "If you do, then I can't see it. But the moment I first saw you, I just 'sensed' something unique about you, only I just can't put my finger on it."

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First off, let me say that rape is a heinous thing to inflict on anyone. Nobody in their right mind would suggest otherwise and I do consider myself to be in my right mind. When a friend became a victim of date rape I was as shocked, as supportive, as anyone but that was when we were in high school and I was much younger.

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She was young and restless, and needed sex constantly, and I loved her. My name is John Vessparrio and I'm her husband. Vivian had expressed a desire to participate in a threesome with herself and two males, I of course being one of them. The second part of her fantasy was to be fucked at the same time by both of us, one in her cunt, and the other in her ass. We had been married eight years now; she was twenty-seven and I twenty-eight and I guess we were both bored with our sex life. I knew Vivian still loved me; she just needed something new in her life to entertain her.

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"Hey, I'm going to go over to Ryan's house, Luke has something for me I guess," I told my boyfriend, Kyle, as I was gathering up my purse and keys to my car. "Luke?" Kyle put on a disgusted face. I didn't blame him. Luke was my ex. We'd only gone out a week, so I didn't really count him as being an "ex-boyfriend", just an "ex". I know, I'm weird. I sighed and tried to smile at Kyle. "Yeah. I guess. I'll be back in hopefully under a half hour. Unless Ryan's there and then I might stay a bit longer."

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