Your erotic stories

"Open to me. Open to Daddy."

And I spread my legs for him.

Before that, he had pushed me back gently onto the thick carpet on the moss covering the little sun-spackled glen. He had me kneel before him and take his beautiful, huge cock into my mouth, where I worked it up to over nine inches of hardness to the sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the other jogger emitting little sighs and moans of pleasure.

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Despite my best efforts, thoughts of what I wanted to do to Michael kept clouding my mind. Maybe coming up with that fantasy about him hadn't been the best idea. Instead of clearing my head, now I was wishing even more that it would happen in reality. But the pressure was on with our project and I forced myself to focus on the job at hand. The next four days of the convention were really intense. It wasn't easy because the others all knew each other and had worked together in this type of situation before, and I was still the new guy in the group.

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I came home early; it had been one of those days from hell. Murphy's Law at work--if it can go wrong it will. Well, it could, and it did. Meagan Murphy, the current number one box office sex symbol, who is scheduled to star in Ben Affleck's new movie, shows up on the set five months pregnant. The film has a four-month shooting schedule, and there's no way she can do it.

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Phil came into the sauna as I hoped he would. He came up to the top tier and sat below me where I was lying on my back, just a white towel around me, the leg toward the wall bent, foot flat on the wooden slats of the bench, with the other leg straight. He sat close enough to me that the roughness of his towel brushed the toes of my stretched foot. I had started hardening up just in anticipation that he'd come. It had been him who had said "See you in the sauna" and had given me "that" look. And I continued to engorge now that he was here.

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The Orient Express train had left Vienna Station at dusk, and there was no longer anything to see out of the coach window, the lights of the towns flashing by having been extinguished hours ago. Magnus the Authenticator was weary, and the clacking of the iron wheels on the iron rails as the train thundered toward Belgrade lulled him. But the unfamiliar noise of the speeding train and frequent lurch from side to side robbed him of sleep. He'd never ridden a train before;

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Captain Delwin Jackson—Diggs to almost everyone who knew him—opened the only eye he was able to open, seeing first the photo of Tawna and the kids, Jamia and Jeron, that should be in his wallet but, inexplicably was in a frame too big for it and standing on top of a white laminated nightstand next to the bed.

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There had been a few responses to my ad before D's, but there was something about each -- something impersonal and a bit too eager -- that had made me wary about responding to any of them. And then came D's reply. There was something trustworthy in his tone. Patient. Not trying to rush things, but from the start, determined to be sure that I was myself comfortable following through with what I had proposed.

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I couldn't believe this was the guy I'd be working with. I stopped in my tracks at the doorway and furrowed my brows at the script. TWINK: [Needs to be expressive, bubbly, seductive, cute] The description listed all of the stereotypical roles of a twink, but this guy sitting beside Dave—or should I say on the same couch as Dave, as they were by no means near each other—was anything but. Dave insists upon introducing his actors in his house beforehand, to sort of break the ice in a relaxed atmosphere (instead of an awkward first meeting on set).

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Strangely, my wife did not throw me out of the house after catching me in the middle of two hard cocks at the annual Firefighter's picnic. I tried to talk to her about it, but she would just smile enigmatically and say she wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. In the meantime, she was perfectly pleasant with me, if a tiny bit aloof. After a few weeks, I started thinking that maybe the other shoe would never actually drop. The only fly in the ointment was that she was "too tired" for the next three weeks. We had had gaps like that before, though, and I wasn't going to push it.

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Now Stan, I should perhaps mention, is a bit older than me and of a build that most folks would just call skinny. But that beauty that he hosts between his legs is without a doubt the fattest part of his body. It is long, thick and when fully aroused, a state I take such joy in bringing about, stands proudly straight out with a graceful upward bend. It is really a thing of beauty.

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