Your erotic stories

I am a fairly normal guy except for I have a problem. Ever since I was a teen, I have cum very quickly. It doesn't matter if I was masturbating, getting a hand job, blowjob or sex. If there is constant stimulation, the longest I have gone before cumming is 4 minutes and most of the time it is 1 1/2 minutes.

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When we heard the shouting begin from outside at the pool, my wife and I looked at each other, and I rolled my eyes. Things had been so peaceful and fun between our daughter and her friend up to then, but being girls, we knew the trouble from last summer could resurface quickly; girls, even girls who are friends, never forget when they've been wronged, and our daughter Rosie was no exception.

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Spots of dappled sunlight streamed through the trees and danced and twirled on the pavement as I waited for her outside the building. She was always late, frantically trying to keep up with her life. Not that I would ever want her life, I snorted to myself. Immediately regretting the thought, I focussed on the distant rush of traffic echoing softly through what had to be the last quiet street in Brisbane's central business district.

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I can still remember the first time I asked her if I could do it. I had always had a fascination for tasting my own semen, you see. My wife Megan had indulged me certain levels of satisfaction in this matter but refused to let me give her oral after sex. She said it was "gross".

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Addie anchored her naked arms on the edge of the sink with her cute, round behind aimed straight up at me. She pushed her feet back just a bit, spread her legs and dug in. "I'm as ready as I can be, handsome. Do it." "Okay, but I warn you, I've never done this before," I responded nervously.

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Erica was in my humanities class. I haven't seen her in five years. At the time, I was already looking for a real job and she was living in the dorms. We started talking—complaining really, early in the semester. The first time we spoke we were grumbling our annoyances with our professor, but a week later she was punctuating her sentences with emotive slaps to my shoulder as she shared her worries about our midterm.

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I heard the door open and my wife came in. It was late but no later than her usual night of work. She walked into the bedroom and I could see in her eyes that she was frisky. I hoped I knew what would come next. She peeled her clothes off and left them in a pile beside the bed which creaked as she climbed onto it and straddled my head. Her strong thighs touched my cheeks as she steadied herself against the headboard.

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Jeanie waved goodbye to her two boys as her parents pulled away. She knew that she was going to miss them while they were gone for the weekend, but also knew that she needed the break. Unfortunately, that break wouldn't really start until she finished catching up on the housework. There were too many things that she'd put off, and she knew that she simply couldn't relax until each and every one of them was done. She tied back her strawberry blonde tresses, and went to work.

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"Can I help you?" the woman at the front desk of the hotel asked. "I have a reservation. Tonya Benton." The woman's smile faded a little as she clicked away on the computer. After a few seconds, she said, "I'm terribly sorry, but we don't have any rooms available." Tonya gave a shake of her head, tossing her red curls, in disbelief of what she'd just heard. "What? I have a reservation. I made it a month ago."

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Sitting under the awning next to her truck, Vanille looked down the street and decided that the fair was beginning to wind down. She breathed a sigh of relief both because the long day was over, and because she was going to turn a decent profit from working the small town street fair. Considering her name, she might very well have been destined to sell homemade ice cream from the back of a truck, but it certainly hadn't been her plan.

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