Your erotic stories

The first thing he knew after a long deep sleep was a sound. Someone spoke. The words were "Holy shit." murmured quietly but he heard them, and that seemed marvelous for some reason. In that first moment of consciousness his hearing seemed wonderfully powerful.

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It had been a long week. I had started work on Monday having to deal with crises that had started as soon as I left on Friday, and the fires had just gotten bigger as the week went on. I was really looking forward to getting home, having a few drinks, and just relaxing. All I needed to do first was stop and pick up some food from the grocery store.

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The day my wife asked me about her using a strap on kind of got my attention and not really in a great way. Like most guys the thought of something like that just never entered my head. I asked her where she got the idea thinking it was the HBO series Real sex but she just told me it was something she had thought about from time to time. I think back on it and I realize she was testing the waters. She would often grab my but while I was shaving in the morning or sometimes slide a finger between my cheeks making me jump a bit in surprise.

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Michael flew into the small northern town for a two-day conference. A hotel, a travel budget, and a new place to explore, even a small town, was enough distraction to ensure he wouldn't be bored even if Laura hadn't decided to take charge of his evening hours. Laura met him at the conference on the first day. She was attending as a representative of a local company.

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"This is where we'll be doing most of the filming," the gorgeous blonde said over her shoulder as she finished giving me the tour of the movie set. I had only been half listening; my attention occupied by the half-naked women walking around. "Of course," she continued, "that's if you're satisfied with everything?"

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Mike and I had a very special relationship. In our senior year in highschool he and his then-girlfriend had invited me to a threesome which had developed into a more or less regular fucking session. After that relationship had been over Mike and I, ever horny, but without any female partners to blow off some steam, had taken to whacking off together to the sweet memories of our threesome sex and porn.

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I took my time with Monica, watching her face as I slid in and out of her in long, lazy strokes. Guys like me don't get second chances with women like Monica. She was out of my league. Petite, pretty, and proper, I don't think most guys would even try to make time with her. I had seen it happen, guys who lost the ability to speak as soon as she turned on her perfect smile and batted her baby blues at them.

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I had only been out of work for a week, and already I was getting bored. And that's a bad thing for me . . . to be bored. It's how I always get into trouble. Okay, it's one of the ways I get into trouble. So here I am, back home in the mountains of Tennessee, and I need something to do. It's beautiful here, and very secluded.

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It was about a year and a half ago, I was sitting in my work truck having a lunch break and leching at any remotely sexy looking female who happened to walk by, fantasizing about kinky sex. Such has been my custom ever since I can remember. At 53 I still had a raging libido and quite simply did not get enough sex to satisfy it. I could still quite easily orgasm two or three times a day.

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As customary he was naked and blindfolded. Naked save for his chastity device and the elastic vibrating cock ring behind it. The only difference to the other times he was prepared to worship her womanhood with his tongue was that this time he was kneeling in the living room and not in the not bedroom. His aching, caged cock tingled in anticipation, as it did every time. The soft, buzzing reverberated through his groin.

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