Your erotic stories

Ah yes, she's here again - the girl. I've been watching her for several weeks now. She and her friends hang out at the pool where I live. Several of them must be sub-letting for the summer because there's no way a college student could afford to live here on a regular basis. Then again, who knows? Parents give their kids everything these days.

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I knocked on the door with my wife, Linda, by my side. The door opened but was held tight by a chain as light peeked out from inside. "Chocolate banana," I said. The door closed and was soon re-opened without the lock. We entered hand in hand. The door was shut behind us and quickly locked. A short man stood there looking us over. "Welcome," he said in a low voice. "The club is meeting downstairs. Please leave your clothes in the living room before proceeding down," he said, handing us a plastic container.

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Things were going well between them, but Kate still felt something was missing. She partly knew what it was; a desire to ensure they kept things even more interesting by continuing to think of ways to make it continuously exciting for her. The answers flitted through her mind and she resolved to act on some of them, for the sake of their relationship!

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There are words that I don't like. There are phrases that don't sit right with me either and never have. I don't like the word cunt. I like the word pussy. I'd like to take a vacation and spend a week eating pussy. I've never wanted to spend one minute eating cunt. The two words "pussy whipped" bother me. First it's the connotation. "Pussy Whipped" means that a man has allowed a woman to get total control over his actions. He's been emasculated, not with a knife, with words and manipulation. There are other words and phrases that I don't like, but those give you the idea.

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Millicent Burton, Milli to her friends and co-workers, leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms back to release the tension that had been building in her shoulders all day. The financial report she'd drafted was due tomorrow and she wasn't going home until it was completed. At 44 years old she'd risen to the top of the company she'd started with as a young woman and as joint acting C.O.O she still had a lot to prove to the men who'd put her there.

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After we became empty nesters, my wife Jan and I experienced some wild, fun, and stimulating sex between ourselves and with others including fellow workers, a bi male, a student, Jan's girl friend, the UPS guy, my audiologist, interracial, a she male, sister, and niece. We have pretty much done it all.

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I don't claim to speak for all cock suckers but what I'm about to reveal isn't going to come as a surprise to those who have given this subject any thought at all. Married cock suckers, in general have a guilt complex! That's right. If you think about it why would a normal, healthy, married man actively seek out men to "service"? Something is rotten in Denmark.

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It was about eleven o'clock on Saturday night when Brian pulled up just down the block from the tall brick building that included the apartment his girl friend, Rachel, shared with her young daughter. They turned to each other while unbuckling their seatbelts, both of them thinking of the good time they had at dinner and the concert and, especially, about the great time they expected to have in her bed. Not wanting to take anything for granted, he waited until she expressly suggested he come inside with her.

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She came into his shoe store a few minutes before closing time. It had been a tough day and he was tired. He was about to snap at her, something cold and impersonal like, "Lady, the store closes in 5 minutes." But there was a way she walked that caught his attention and made him stand straight. She was a petite woman, barely 5 feet tall. She carried herself with a quiet confidence and radiant sexuality. And maybe it was because she was wearing a short leather skirt that hugged her hips, and a skimpy form fitting leather vest on top, nothing underneath.

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Several years before my marriage, I met a young woman who had experienced much in life - for her age - but hadn't known the greatest pleasure of all until we met. This is the story of that first experience for her. I had seen her at work a few times, she was eye-catching to say the least. Her vivacious smile, friendly attitude and empathetic charm made her the type of person who lights up a room when she walks in.

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