Your erotic stories

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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The summer after I graduated from college I crashed on my big sister Trish's couch for a few months. What else was I supposed to do? I had earned a bachelor's degree in anthropology, which translated to no money and no job prospects. She had a little house in the woods outside the town we grew up in, and she said I could stay there as long as I needed. She'd mentioned something about having a boyfriend, but I didn't realize until I got there that he was pretty much living with her.

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Sara came home from work late, tired and cranky. It had been a long day at the end of a long week, and her feet hurt as she kicked off her shoes at the door and slumped into her favorite chair, her briefcase dropped at her side. Jeff, her husband, saw her sitting there from the kitchen. "Rough day?" He asked. "I don't even want to talk about it." She said. Both in their 30's, they had only been married a few years. But they got along well and shared similar tastes where it really mattered.

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How do I get myself into these things? Because I'm a sucker for men who beg, that's how. Look on my forehead, see the big "S"? It magically appears whenever a man gets down on his knees, clasps his hands together, and says "Please, please, oh pretty please?" It must be some sort of motherly instinct. I never had any kids, and I always thought I transferred my need for raising children to my dogs.

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Billy was shit out of luck. His problem was that he was just an average Joe - but he was really, REALLY average! He was twenty-five years old, working as a delivery man, and not a bad person. But he just couldn't get laid. It wasn't that he was ugly or fat or anything else like that. He had ordinary looks with an ordinary body (bordering on the chubby side, though).

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I'm Ethan and this story is about my relationship with my friend Mina from my point of view. She told her story through her eyes in the audio version of Ethan's Reluctant Journey. If you haven't listened to that story I highly recommend you do so before reading further. In her sultry and erotic way she includes all the proper disclaimers and warnings and if you're not at least hot to the touch by halfway through then this story may not be for you.

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