Your erotic stories

For those of you not familiar with the British 'pastime' of 'Dogging' let me explain that it involves numbers of people meeting up in secluded public carparks for sexual frolics. It's become a bit of a cultural cliché over here, with the tabloid image of seedy loners and old slappers getting down and dirty in dreary locations in the dead of night.

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Katherine stumbled out onto the uneven back stoop, audibly groaning under the weight of the heavy-duty trash bag. It was full of crumbled plaster and strips of wooden lathe and swung ponderously, threatening to pull her over with each uncertain step. As her foot slipped on the sloping stone slab she overcompensated and was forced to let the bag drop with a heavy crunch. Catching herself with a sideways grab at the door frame, she slammed backwards into the peeling paint of the old wood siding.

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Introduction Sandie had just turned eighteen a month ago but she was so tiny – barely 5' 1" – and with such a pixy face, that she could have passed for 12 or thirteen. Adding to the image of youth was her long sleek black hair, which hung straight to her waist. Whenever I saw her lounging by their pool in her one-piece bathing suit over our neighbouring fence, I swore she had no breasts to speak of.

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We had just gotten married and this is the story of our honeymoon trip. We traveled from a small town in Wisconsin just north of Madison to New York City for a week of fun and games. It was in a room at the Marriott Marquis that first night I introduced Susan to sex. At first, she was a little hesitant but she quickly developed a love of fucking.

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The headline act was about to take the stage but I couldn't wait; I was desperate for a pee and I couldn't hold it in any longer. I was in serious danger of wetting myself. I made my excuses to my friends and hobbled across the crowded field towards the portaloos, thrusting my hands between my legs to prevent an accident.

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My affair with Stevie; if that's what you want to call it is still going on today. It's not an affair in the conventional sense as there is absolutely no chance that he would ever buy me flowers or take me to a French Restaurant. Nor would I want him to. We are as he quaintly calls it – 'fuck-buddies'. We still occasionally go to the derelict factory on a Friday afternoon and the odd evening after work.

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I was butt naked when I met the girl of my dreams. Yet, that was not the most unusual circumstance of that improbable introduction. She was naked as well on that fateful day, as were the twenty or thirty other people in the area. It just goes to show that there is some wisdom in the old Boy Scouts' motto: Be prepared.

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Story Code: M/F, Family Sex, Incest, Impregnation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism In 2011 there was a drought, just a minor inconvenience to most domestic water users but on a farm, not being able to water your crops can be financially ruinous. The field at the head of the valley was called 'Spring Field' on the farm deeds so my father-in-law asked my husband to do a little digging through the parish records to see if there had been any mention of an actual spring in that field.

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I first saw her as she walked from her car towards the supermarket. She was hard to miss, especially in broad daylight. I was parked two rows away and she walked into the Harris Teeter store about twenty steps ahead of me, her tight ass swaying back and forth in her tiny, designer-label jean miniskirt.

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I was to be the entertainment for this evening. I knew this. I had freely agreed to it. After all, my sex life had hit a very long dry spell. When Clarissa, one of my girlfriends, had mentioned this club that she belonged to - a "kinky sex club" was her description - it sounded like just what I needed.

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