Your erotic stories

"Why is Gopal not to be seen these days?" My husband had asked once last week. I didn't answer and instead quickly diverted him to some other topic. Somehow, I have been cursing my beloved husband all these days for deciding to leave all the luxuries of Mumbai and settling down in a rather smallish town in the southern most part of India. He wasn't willing to let the lucrative offer go and jumped to grab the new job in a windmill power generation company.

read more

Mariel Archer stared out the front window of her attractive two-story home as her husband, William (not "Bill", too informal) slowly walked down the manicured sidewalk to his car. He was 65 years old now and really didn't need to work any longer (house was paid for, kids all off on their own) but he didn't believe a person should take up space on the planet without working to pay for the privilege. That was William.

read more

On a very hot and unreasonably humid summer day around the middle of August, I found myself on the receiving end of Mrs. Nadine Broome's affections. I was mowing her lawn that day because their regular groundsman was off sick and word was getting about that my services were excellent and highly recommended. The lawn covered approximately 6 acres alongside the River Thames. In some ways it looked more like a bowling green than anything else, Rob always mowed and groomed it to perfection.

read more

As the pontoons of the seaplane separated from the calm waters of the small harbor, two sentences of Uncle Frank's parting conversation echoed through my head - "Are you sure?" and "See you in a month." All of a sudden I felt more alone than I'd ever felt before. A tear rolled down the side of my nose. I waved until I could no longer see the plane.

read more

Before I start I should really tell you a bit about our village. If you are used to planned gridiron building then our village will be a shock to you. People have lived here and hereabouts for at least a couple of thousand years. There was a Roman camp nearby, and there are carvings in rocks that are much older than that. What I am saying is that the village was not organised, it had just happened. Most people only see it from the main road, lined as it is with shops, houses and a couple of pubs.

read more

I stood there in the hallway, staring at the door. The rest of the hall was empty, and I could hear my heart pounding as though it was trying to leap out of my chest. When I reached up to knock, my hand was shaking. The voice from within the room did nothing to ease my anxiety. "Juste un instant, s'il vous plait ", melodically reached my ears. Well, we were in Quebec, and she was my french teacher, so.... perhaps I should fill in some history leading up to this moment.

read more

"Damn, damn, damn!" I thought to myself, "What in the world have you gotten yourself into now, girl?" I squirmed against the intense sensation of the vibrator as I felt and heard the unrelenting driving, pounding sound of the mini stallion as it forced the dildo deep inside me, then back out. Chuk-a-chuk-a-chuk-a-chuk, over and over and over, no stopping it.

read more

"Freefall," Rebecca Quinn thought to herself as the elevator lowered her and her Husband down to the lobby of her office building so they could go have lunch together. "Freefall...That's just what my life feels like right now," she had to stifle a perverse chuckle at the irony of the comparison between the elevator and her place in life. Rebecca had been married to Neal Quinn for almost 22 years. The first dozen or so had been decent, but there was no mistake the two had drifted apart for the last decade and Rebecca had been having an affair on and off with a man from her office building for past year.

read more

The first best word to describe me by is ordinary. The second best word to use is horny as it is possible for a 25 year old young man to be. Add in slender, heavy glasses, insecure, and an almost complete lack of any line of rap? Well, you get the picture. The problem with that combination is that to hook up with a female, I have to work harder at it than some of my buds.

read more

In all the fantasies in my mind, I'm a thin, svelte, beautiful woman. In real life I'm a plump, voluptuous, attractive woman. I have curves like a real woman, not angles like Barbie. The man I'm looking for doesn't have to be a Ken. (Actually, I don't want a Ken, because I want a man with working parts.) I'm not adverse to finding a good looking man. I like a sculpted chest, and I love a nicely formed ass, one that fits well into my hands. Those usually are my standards, I have been known to take a chance on a man who doesn't meet those rules.

read more