Your erotic stories

Sarah stood in the shade of the thatch-roofed picnic shelter, sipping on a diet coke as she spitefully contemplated how her weekend had been completely ruined. After two continuous weeks of stressful work, she had been relishing this much needed weekend to herself. That was until Friday night, when a dreaded phone call from her cheerily coercive mother had ended all her hope of relaxation.

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"I hate her," Joe muttered as he watched Natalie bounce through the crowded college courtyard. Two years, they had been together. Two years of wasted emotion, compromises, and plans. Hell, they hadn't really started making love until these last few months, and that's why he had thought she was the one. "'Let's save ourselves until we're sure,'" he grumbled.

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I can still remember the first time I asked her if I could do it. I had always had a fascination for tasting my own semen, you see. My wife Megan had indulged me certain levels of satisfaction in this matter but refused to let me give her oral after sex. She said it was "gross".

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"What was your most interesting photo shoot, Natasha?" Alex asked. His digital SLR snapped in the silence of the hotel room. I held my pose, wondering how honest I should be. "Well, I did a shoot last year wearing nothing but body paint," I offered, the over-stuffed comforter pressed softly between my legs.

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It had been a long week. Not a bad one, but just long. There had been so much going on for both of us, that at the end of the day we barely had the strength for a kiss and a hug goodnight, much less anything else. The only thing that I really had going for me was our showers together in the mornings. I don't think she fully realizes that after all our years together, I find her even more beautiful each day than the day before.

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Melissa kicked off her sandals as she walked into her best friend's apartment. Her very drunk best friend was close behind. "I just need a little nap," Amber slurred, shuffling toward the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend Sam. He was spread out on the couch in their living room, reading a magazine.

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"So I leaned over, farted and Silly String flew out my ass," Kayla said, snapping me back to reality. I pulled my attention from staring her feet and looked directly at her. I didn't realize how obvious I'd been. "Good to see you're back," she laughed. "So are you going to listen or just ogle my feet?"

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Moving and having to transfer during your senior year of high school is quite difficult to do. I had to leave all of my friends behind and start in a new school which would be difficult for anyone but when you are pretty much just an average guy ( not an athlete or anything like that ) you pretty much just blend into the surroundings. I did have one advantage, I was a good student in a private school which made me an excellent public school student. I was getting straight A's without much effort but unfortunately in high school this makes you more popular with the teachers than with other students. Did I say unfortunately?

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1. A shudder runs through my body and quickly evolves into an uncontrollable shake. I couldn't turn back now even if I wanted to. Perhaps just five minutes earlier, but not anymore. Her hand is gliding over me and setting every bit of skin it touches on fire. My lust is violently taking control, and she knows it. We both know it. It is not the first time.

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I was at my professional peak, but single and unattached. My profession is a jealous mistress, demanding constant attention, but paying rich dividends to her ardent worshippers. I had very volatile sexual urges but remained celibate through adolescence with the help of pornography and later on with the net. I was wary of women and my sexual preferences became more defined. As a professional I was aggressive and was clothed in the aura of aggressiveness.

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