Your erotic stories

"Nice meat, Pops...is that hard on for me?" I opened my eyes, my hard cock still cupped in my palm as I sat nude in my hot tub. My son's girlfriend, Dana was standing on the deck, smiling at me, naked. "You're blushing," Dana giggled, which made her firm young tits jiggle invitingly. My manhood surged towards greater fullness, bobbing in the water as if greeting our guest.

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"My ass is virgin," Eden had told me on our first date. A simple statement, quite out of place for an average date. A statement that might have meant "but you can fuck my cunt all you want, I'm a slut" or "I'm saving it for the right guy - is that you?" Or both? I certainly took it as a challenge, because I was ready to be somebody's Mr. Right, and I had a bit of a soft spot for sluts. I had married one, after all.

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After that little Halloween incident with my gynecologist, Dr. Markus DeShade and his band of kinky cohorts, he has been exceptionally nice to me. So has his wife Evelyn, although I think her interest is more on the Sapphic side. Tall, good-looking women tend to become attracted to me, as was the case with my German friend, Eva Reichman (see Cat's Discovery).

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Brad came to work for our company right out of college as a product specialist covering a three state area. He was tall and good looking, clean cut and hard working. He quickly made a positive impression on our customers, worked diligently and traveled extensively. His young wife Lori was a tall brunette with long legs, full natural breasts, a perfectly proportioned butt and a very pretty face.

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I had set up my tent in a campsite in the national forest between Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. As I relaxed with my coffee I became fully aware of what a beautiful setting I had. My little bluff put me above the shrubs and I had a clear view of Jackson Lake and The Grand Tetons behind it. I could see the reflection of the mountains on the waters. I saw a bald eagle soaring over the lake.

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My boyfriend Tom got up and left. I was still panting when he quietly slipped out of my dorm room. Sweat lined my face, clung to my breasts. The moisture felt cool on my legs. Moisture between my legs felt cold on the edges and hot in the core. I glanced at the clock, hoping it wasn't really as late as it seemed.

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Anne was the typical all-American girl. She was smart with a sassy attitude. Her mother had raised to be a career driven woman, and she became just that. It wasn't long until she moved off to San Francisco in pursuit of a good education.

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We were in the study of Professor Hendrick's house, in the late evening, nearing the end of the tutorial he was conducting. At least I assumed it was nearing the end, because I was very close to coming. We were in a straight chair facing his desk. Professor Hendricks, his hands wrapped around my waist was sitting in the chair; I was sitting on his hard cock—or, rather, fucking myself on his cock in slow risings and fallings and me moaning in tenor to his groaning in baritone.

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It was Saturday evening and I was getting changed to go out to dinner with Nick. I had just taken off my tank top to change into a blouse when Nick came up and kissed me. It was one of those long sensuous kisses that I love so much. While I was concentrating on the kiss, he quickly cuffed my wrists before I knew what was happening.

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"Remember, sex onstage is illegal. This isn't fucking Amsterdam. You can jerk yourself off a little, play with the other guys' cocks, but if you cum, it's all over. Got it? No blowing your load. No oral. No penetration of any kind. Not that the other guys'd let you—they're professionals and a lot of them're straight. Got it?"

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