Your erotic stories

The parties that went on at 69 Brentwood Street were legendary. When Luke Prescott received the invitation email by Blackberry during his final year at NYU, he had high expectations. The house was a three-storey brownstone on the Upper East Side, and was being rented by three of the hottest girls in university. Kendra, Lacey and Chloe were commonly referred to around campus as 'The Babes on Brentwood.'

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I sat on the couch, the room lit by the flicker of some skin-emax show. There was a tumbler of scotch in my hand; one of far too many for the day, but then, this was our annual vacation with a group of friends at the beach and excessive consumption was practically required. This was the third night though, around 11pm, early by first night standards, but well past the breaking point for most after three days of hard partying in the sun and sand.

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'Can I cum on your face?' That was where it all started I think, I was 18 and Greg was my first boyfriend. We had been sleeping together for a few months and it was all 'quite nice', all very so-so. Probably it was a bit like most first relationships between two virgins, you are both pretty clueless.

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For a long time now, I've loved the idea of eating my wife's pussy right after I cum inside her. I fantasize about it practically every time we have sex, but unfortunately, as soon as I cum I lose interest completely. In fact, after I cum the idea repels me. I've mentioned this fantasy to Pam, and much to my surprise it turned her on at least as much as it does me.

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"Are you ready for this?" She hovers just in front of my face. My hands held down above my head. Her pussy is wet with sex - both hers and mine. "Because you're getting it, whether you are ready. Or not." She looks down into my eyes and smiled. An hour before, Rashel was just getting home from work. I had the day off. Most of the day was spent playing video games and surfing the web, but just before she got home I went into action.

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There wasn't an adult in the land that didn't know what her family did. There wasn't a tabloid editor on Fleet Street that hadn't paid out hard cash for sex tapes containing her or her family. They were notorious; famous almost. Salacious details of the exploits became Internet folklore, the stuff of legend.

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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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