Your erotic stories

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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We had got drunk together numerous times, as part of a group, and just us I suppose, once or twice, he'd crashed at mine as well, a few times, came back for some chilli, a floor space. He was sort of funny, a little older than me, smart, he lived miles away.

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Edward woke up alone. That was normal. Ever since his wife left him he always woke up alone. At least it was Saturday and he didn't have to go into the office. He was also naked. That was not normal. What happened last night, he wondered not yet fully awake. He sat up suddenly as he remembered. Last night he went to The Harbor, one of the newer clubs in town, with the project team from the office to celebrate the completion of their latest game. He swung his legs out of bed and shook his head. Did last night really happen, he thought.

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I could hardly believe the words that had just come from my wife's mouth. "Now, you two kiss..." Kate and I looked at each other as though we were waiting for Erika to tell us she was joking. Her silence, and the look she was giving us told us she wasn't. So, as my wife of 10 years watched intently, I leaned in to kiss Kate.

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CHAPTER 1 Caleb Hunter had this recurring thing in his head about returning to the room and the woman sprawled on the bed, covered in sweat after having had sex with him, the moonlight coming in through the window and highlighting her, breeze fluttering the curtains. She'd opened her glistening eyes and coo, "Are you ready to fuck me again darling?"

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He picked up the envelope, knowing what it contained and struggling to figure out how to justify its existence at the front counter to his friends. "Hmmm, this must be the fax I was waiting for at the office yesterday, " he said, "shit, I may have to do some work tonight." His friends groaned, rolling their eyes, commenting on his inability to have fun even while on vacation. He smiled.

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Just a little background on me, this may help you to understand my stories better. Then again it may not. I am a white male who grew up in the suburbs, in a nice quiet neighborhood. I went to a private school my whole life, and I guess you could say lived a somewhat sheltered life. My upbringing was a catholic one, which meant everything was a sin or wrong to do.

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My wife, Peg, and I were invited to my sister-in-law's for Thanksgiving last year and we always tried to accommodate her, first, because she's my wife's sister and, second, because she's a widow having lost her husband in the Iraq War. She and Peg have always been close, there's just a year and a half difference, Janet, being the younger one.

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"You want some help with those, Jane?" Jane looked up from the sink full of suds to where I was standing in the doorway to the front hall. The plate she had just finished scrubbing slipped back into the water as she released it to dry her hands on the apron and motion me over for a hug. "You cooked, I clean," she said after giving me a quick squeeze and a tender kiss, "Isn't that our usual deal?"

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When I went in there weren't too many people in the coffee shop. It's a bigger coffee place, the Java Palace, and it has a lot of nooks and crannies; but on Wednesday evenings there's usually not much of a crowd and they only have one barista. I had a lot on my plate; I'm the night concierge at the budget inn downtown, and I had to finish a paper on pre-revolution Russia for my twentieth-century history class. I sidled up to the counter.

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