Your erotic stories

I want to tell you all a little story about a former fuck buddy of mine. I'm using the term "fuck buddy" here relatively because we never technically fucked per se. Suffice to say that I met a crazy girl who did some crazy things with me. OK, I'm being too vague now, and I'm probably confusing you. Here's how it all happened:

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Inara never would have made the bet if she hadn't been so completely sure of winning. What a cliche, she thought to herself making her way up the white pebbled path to pay her forfeit. No doubt that was the first thought of every fool who lost a bet. Thinking back, she realized that she'd let herself be spurred on by the crowd—that and her own foolish pride. It was so out of character for her, so why did she do it?

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Chapter 1 (Some of the names, except for one friend who is now deceased, have been changed to protect their privacy. For the purposes of this story, you can call me Dan.) I know most of the stories here are fiction. This one is true and I'm writing it because it's the sexiest thing that ever happened to me. I've been sitting on this story for 14 years and now I have to tell it.

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"So what were you doing all afternoon while I was slaving over a hot terminal?" Tom's wife was giving him a cold stare. "Running?" "Swimming," he admitted. "Really?" The stare was getting colder now. "I thought we were going to go now, after the little kids were gone." "We can go. No problem."

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Alone. I was off for the day, my wife was at work, and I had the house to myself and was going to be able to indulge in one of my favorite fetishes. My cock was already getting hard as I went into our bedroom and stood in front of her dresser. Opening the drawer, I selected the silky black thong she'd bought a few months prior. It had quickly become my favorite. Taking off my shorts and shirt, I eased the soft panties up my legs and over my now rock hard penis.

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Thomas Powell shifted uncomfortably in his chair, hoping his wife Lorraine would not notice his restlessness. No matter how hard he tried to avert his gaze, his eyes were continually drawn to the image in the backyard. But it was not the slight tilt of his head that was required to capture the desired sightline that was the cause of his stirring - it was the effect that the vision before him was having on him.

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She had come out of the fortune-tellers a changed woman. Pausing only briefly at the entrance, she looked around her for a moment and walked briskly to the train station. She stood in the throng of the station concourse, examining the departures before walking into the ticket office. The train she chose was leaving in only a few minutes, leaving her no time to sit around and ponder what on earth she was doing.

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The tissue box is empty and my heart is in a million pieces. I sound like a cliché, don't I? At least there aren't pints of ice cream in my system. Oh great, that's the only thing I have going for me – I didn't binge on ice cream. Way to go, Ashley. The relationship I thought was the one and only of my life is over and it ended messy.

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I took a big gulp of water from the wet plastic bottle, and set it back down in the cup holder of my lawn chair. The hot sun was beating down, slowly cooking my legs and bare chest, and the sound of quiet voices passing by was lulling me to sleep. "You look awfully cute in that straw hat Bobby," a familiar female voice said.

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"Can I help you?" the woman at the front desk of the hotel asked. "I have a reservation. Tonya Benton." The woman's smile faded a little as she clicked away on the computer. After a few seconds, she said, "I'm terribly sorry, but we don't have any rooms available." Tonya gave a shake of her head, tossing her red curls, in disbelief of what she'd just heard. "What? I have a reservation. I made it a month ago."

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