Your erotic stories

After many years of trying to keep up with it, my wife and I hired a Brazilian couple to come and clean our house once a week. They were young, eager, and inexpensive, so we decided it was an affordable luxury, and went for it. They come on Friday mornings, so the house is clean for the weekend, and nobody gets in their way while they are working. As they don't speak much in the way of English, I hadn't really gotten to know them well, although they were quite friendly.

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About 10 years ago Tom's boss asked him to go to their satellite office and set up a new system and train everyone there to use it. The whole thing would last about a week. He told Tom to take me along and for us to use his vacation home he has about 20 miles away from the other office to stay in while we were up there.

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"Character," Kristin said. "The most important part of any piece of fiction. If you start writing with only a plot in mind, you will struggle with your characters. However, if you start with your characters, they will create your plot for you." The writing workshop was nearly full. Kristin Morris had had eleven books on the romantic bestseller list. Her current historical romance, "The Sands of Fortune," had been holding steady on the list for nearly eight weeks.

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I could smell the sex in the stale air of the room. The blindfold had been removed but all I was in complete darkness except for the dim glow of a black light creeping around a door. Despite the position I was in I was not frightened though my adrenaline was racing full on. I waited.

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The weather was warming up, spring was in the air, Ellen and I decided to take more time off and spend more days together. Our sex life really picked up after the episode in Philadelphia (See Ellen's Weekend). The events of that weekend left a lasting impression on Ellen and I. Not only was it our first 'group' interaction, but it also left us wondering where to take that experience. One thing was certain; we were both downsizing our work schedules and spending more time together.

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I got your e-mail. You said you voted me a five. You were so sweet I wanted to meet you and thank you Tammy style. I was going to be home in Indiana for Thanksgiving, you suggested a meeting place. I showed up at the Radison Hotel in Chicago as you had arranged. You said "You look just like your picture" I giggled and said, "You were kind. I look nothing like my picture." I was sure you recognized me from my chest whoppers.

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I'm sitting naked in my favourite armchair, my brain fried from too much beer, my girlfriend Kate kneeling on the floor about four feet away sucking on my best mate's cock whilst I stroke the hardest erection I've ever experienced and try to figure out once again how all this happened. The details are hazy and dream-like, too much to drink on a night out, too much beer followed by too much vodka.

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We had been looking forward to this Friday night all week. We had barely seen one another. We go to this little bar/pub that we love and get one of the last little tables left. We are having a great evening flirting with each other and dancing. A couple of hours in you excuse yourself to go to the washroom.

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