Your erotic stories

The first time I was with another couple was in California. I worked at night as a musician, spent days running, biking, practicing. Occasionally I'd pick up a movie at the local adult store. Adult store patrons are the same the world over: middle-aged married men, rendezvous-ing gay men, horny twenty-year-old gotta-get-off-NOW men (that was me). Drunks and druggies of all shapes and sizes. A prostitute or two. And the occasional nervous couple.

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I heard him pull into the driveway and quickly jumped up to greet him at the door. I was in desperate need to feel him, not just inside of me, but on me as well. I had spent the better half of my afternoon preparing myself for him to come home. I decided I would stay in my attire of that day's errand running, just jeans and a black spaghetti strap tank top.

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Adam Woods touched the test piece of rock maple with his wax stick and examined the filled nail hole to ensure that the color was the best match possible. It wasn’t. He put another nail in the hole and filled it with a pass of a different wax, then examined it. The process continued until he was sure the average viewer wouldn’t find the imperfectoin even when looking for it. He had a test for that too.

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Jill walked in, still in her work clothes. She wore a blue dress shirt and dark gray skirt. Her outfit was conservative but showed off her curves nicely. She spotted me and came over. I noticed a guy at the far end of the bar watching her. I didn't blame him. It was hard to ignore Jill. She's tall and slender attracts a lot of attention with her high heels and assertive aura.

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I'd like to be gay. I really would. Why? Because guys are hornier than gals. It's the way things are. A guy is ready to fuck at the mention of the word. A gal has to be sold on the idea. It isn't fair, of course, but that's the way things are. Unfortunately I like girls. We don't really have a choice. Most guys think girls are just like them. Girls are not like guys! Think about it for a minute. We read about "sexual harassment" and think (that is, most of us think) it means a guy is trying to make some gal uncomfortable by talking to her about sex.

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My husband was out of town. Again. Sometimes I felt like a single Mom, raising my two kids without a husband present. He made great money, but sometimes I felt like he travelled so much that I didn't have a partner. In addition, when he was home he seemed distracted, too busy catching up on his own life to pay much attention to me. Rather than his absence making our sex life or our hearts grow fonder, it seemed to be doing the opposite.

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Carolyn couldn't sleep. Restless in her queen-sized bed, she glanced at the digital alarm clock. The numbers cast a faint green illumination in the still blackness. 2:37 a.m. Damn. She needed her sleep -- and her energy. But it was proving difficult. Tomorrow was the day. Now only hours away. The exhilaration coursed through her body again and her nipples began to harden.

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As soon as Bimbette walked out of the night and through the front door, she knew she had found the place she was looking for. It was a small, dark, run-down taproom, in a questionable part of town, population: nine, including the bartender - all male, mostly black with a few white guys.

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*This is the 5th chapter of a story I began a couple of years ago and it's been over two years since I published the last chapter. Please let me know what you think and as always comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated. Thanks and enjoy!* Chapter 5 - Taming Sara

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The packed city club is jumping, the sound of drum and bass pulsates around me, colourful lights flash rhythmically and your eyes follow me as I stalk seductively up to the fully stocked bar. My sequinned skirt glitters as my hips move in time to the dirty baseline, the semi-sheer black body I'm wearing is designed to allow the imagination to wander and my long legs are emphasised by slender stilettos and opaque, black, lace topped stockings.

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