Your erotic stories

"Oh god yes... fuck me with your fingers. Harder..." My two fingers dug into Sandra's juicy cunt each time I slammed them up her slimy hole. I was pressed against her back with one hand down the front of her shorts fingering her pussy and the other under her top squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. I could feel her body tremble and knew that she was quickly losing control.

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The Divorce So its over, 5 years of marriage, just like that a first class letter from my solicitor and at 32 years old I am free. I had known Tom since I was 15 years old and he had been my only boyfriend and lover. Its not like we had, had a big bust up or anything, we'd just grown apart until one day we both agreed that we had separate interests and we went our separate way.

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"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry." His voice was a soft rush as he apologized for letting the door of the shop close on her, banging her hand in it. He grabbed her hand in his and held it firmly. "I didn't realize you were behind me. I'm so oblivious." He rubbed her hand between his, as he would his own if he'd hurt it. She felt a little jolt of electricity race up her arm and looked up into his bright blue eyes. Another jolt raced down her body. She was sure they had never met before but he seemed strangely familiar.

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"Thin" isn't a word anyone has ever used to describe me. "Beautiful" isn't either. But "sexy"? Well, that's another story. It's funny how long it takes us to come to a realization of who we really are. For me, it took just over 40 years. My whole life I'd struggled with the weight of my own expectations—always wanting to be fifteen or twenty pounds lighter, to have better cheekbones, to have my hair be a better color or my complexion a little better.

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I knew the coming discussion would change my life, yet I debated with myself whether it was for the better or worse. My wife decided that we could not live together anymore and filed for divorce. The court served papers on me today. I spent most of the day packing my clothes and personal belongings into a small U-Haul. The discussion we began was how to split joint property. I knew she wanted the property in town with higher real estate value.

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I couldn't believe it after 20 years of marriage and a man supporting me, I was single again and holding down a job. I'm the executive personal assistant for the president of a nonprofit organization. At 43 years old I was still a good-looking woman but wasn't feeling it. My so-called loving husband and provider had left me for a twenty-year girl, who "made him feel like he hadn't in years".

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Ryan rolled over and stretched. His cock hung limp against his thigh as Marisa lay pressed against him. He felt her fingers glide seductively over his chest, down his rib cage and across his abdomen. In his head he was silently begging for a break. He'd already come several times as had she, but she was still hungry for more. He hated to admit defeat, but he knew his cock was finished and admitting that to any woman was a hard thing for a man to do.

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So there was a few years ago in my marriage, that I lived in this duplex. It was in the back streets of a small old neighborhood that was slowly transforming into a Chinatown. Nowadays the transformation is more complete than it was then. Like I said we lived in a duplex. I was 38 then my wife was 32. A little more about us, I am a tall drink of water so they say. 6 feet 4 inches tall lean and hard muscled. My hair has patches of premature silver spread evenly throughout against my mostly black hair.

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MATH TEACHER, MRS. ROGERS I was adopted by a loving couple and raised in a small town in Northeast Ohio. When I was 18 years old in high school, I developed a strong interest in math mainly because I had a very good teacher, Mrs. Pauline Rogers, who also was an attractive lady: about 5'2" and 120 lb, blonde, firm boobs, and slim legs. When ever I was close to her, I tried to inhale her intoxicating perfume. I worked hard to please her, who I guessed was about 35 years old. In turn, she was glad to have one male student interested in learning math. There were rumors that Mr.

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Kelly looked at herself in the mirror, pulling the bottom of her bathing suit tight against her crotch and running her finger up the crevice between her labia. She stepped back and looked at the strip of fabric covering her crotch, but all she could really see was the gently rounded mound of her vulva.

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