Your erotic stories

To be honest, I never actually considered this to be a fetish, until I met Kathy anyway. I think most guys (and some women too) enjoy squirting, cumming, watching their spunk spurting against a pair of luscious breasts. They don't have to be large one's either, just breasts. And not like it's an all the time thing either, just once in a while, that dirty, naughty, somewhat kinky mood hits. And you want to squirt on a pair of nice looking titties.

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I began looking to meet women online in my early twenties when I discovered I had a fetish for women who smoked. I don't understand why I have the fetish, as I do not smoke or care to be around people who do, but I find myself completely aroused when I see a hot woman smoking in a very sexy way. The way a woman lights, holds, draws and blows the smoke all plays a factor on how excited and how hard my cock gets.

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Sitting on the bed, half aroused and anticipating the arrival of my lover, I heard a small knock on the hotel room door. I rose to answer it and my arousal increased at the sight of my beautiful girlfriend looking seductively at me. As our eyes met, I reached for her and drew her inside, closing the door behind her.

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Part 1. The three girls performing soccer practice appeared to be having a lot of fun. I stopped to watch as I walked home from the corner store. A well-built brunette with long straight hair in a ponytail, and a leggy dark-haired girl easily ran across the field with the ball. The goalie was a slender, small-breasted blonde with a ponytail and a salacious smile.

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It was Friday evening at the end of an unusually long week. I dropped into the local watering hole to grab a beer and unwind. The place was buzzing with conversation, music and laughter. I grabbed a small table near the window, nursed my first beer and enjoyed the view of the sunset. The weekend had arrived and people were there to celebrate. I was there to move into it quietly, others were there celebrating with friends, and two women half way across the room were there to make memories.

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Sarah and John had a typical marriage. Both average in every way. Average household income, average three bedroom house in the average suburban neighborhood of the average American city. And now, done raising their average three children and putting them through college.

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The phone rang midmorning on Saturday, and I heard Darla's excited voice. It must be a friend, I thought to myself. After the conversation, she came hopping into the other room and said that some friends from college were in town for the weekend and she invited them (Virginia and Bridget) to come over and stay the night.

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The Orient Express train had left Vienna Station at dusk, and there was no longer anything to see out of the coach window, the lights of the towns flashing by having been extinguished hours ago. Magnus the Authenticator was weary, and the clacking of the iron wheels on the iron rails as the train thundered toward Belgrade lulled him. But the unfamiliar noise of the speeding train and frequent lurch from side to side robbed him of sleep. He'd never ridden a train before;

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It was called "The French Cafe" which would normally be the kind of place I would avoid but one of my co workers got me hooked on the french vanilla mocha latte. I now went there every Sunday like clockwork placing my order before sitting at my favorite table near the back. I would read my Sunday paper and watch the happenings in the small town I called my home. I didn't interact much with the people, that was my wife's job throughout our marriage, as she never met a stranger.

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"Don't worry, honey," Corliss said as she got into her short dress, "In another week you'll know what it feels like to NEED to cum. Maybe then you'll commit to eating my pussy when it has sperm in it." Matt knew that begging his sexy, dominant wife to remove the cock cage would not accomplish anything but leave him more humiliated. He looked longingly at her bare legs and short dress, and wondered why she was dressing so sexy for work.

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