Your erotic stories

Cheryl is my best friend. I love her dearly. I depend on her and trust her and would do anything for her. I share everything with her. My hopes and dreams. My Fears. My triumphs and tragedies. I even share my husband... We started our little "situation" a few years ago. It all started over dinner and a couple bottles of wine. Cheryl had been telling us how she was having a hard time finding any good men. "Everyone I meet is a creep!" she said. "Or immature and looking for a mommy!"

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1. Emily opened her eyes, squinting against the blazing sun and looked down at the clear blue ocean far below her poolside lounge chair. She could hear Latin music drifting faintly from the bar. The air was hot and the faint breeze that blew did little to cool her. She had been daydreaming, lost in her thoughts.

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When I was 19, after my first year of bible college, I took a place on a crew going treeplanting in central British Columbia. I'd heard a lot about the good money, but, apparently, not every season is the same. We spent days and days crammed in a motel in Prince George — sometimes four and five of us to a room — paying whether we liked it or not.

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"Here you go Hon," Rachel said as she handed me the bright red thong her friend Karen had 'loaned' me. "All clean and ready to go." One by one, memories of both the previous day and night flooded my mind and started my cock stiffening. Getting caught wearing panties by Karen. Spending the morning in nothing but panties in front of my wife's best friend. Rachel rubbing a pair of panties against my body as we screwed.

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The "cleanest" sexual relationship I've had was also, in the end, the kinkiest. I lived in a cabin up in Vermont for a short time several years ago. I'd just moved east from California, had a couple bucks in the bank, and was woodshedding some songs for a new album. First night there I'd pulled all the curtains off the windows and stuck the clock radio in the closet, so every morning I woke up to the impossible shimmer of sunlight off the lake and got right to work.

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As I walk through the hall way of the spa, stretching my neck as I go and extending my arms to crack my knuckles, I wonder what kind of customers my boss has stuck me with today. As if put on her dump-on list as of late, I had nothing but the old, wrinkly, and unappreciative clientèle. I stop in front of a mirror to check my short spikes atop my head, when the reflection shows me a vision that made my entire body react. Behind me struts two women, robes and slippers in hand, mid to late twenties at best, walking close to one another and talking quietly to themselves.

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(I have to thank my editor Tinkz for her work on this story... Please enjoy your read and I do hope you like it, it was an odd topic for me to write about and had to have several conversations with a dear friend of mine her only condition in helping me was to remain nameless. Both she and her partner have read this and with a knowing smile have figured out which one is which in this story.)

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It wasn't so bad that Maria's boyfriend Tim had announced that he wanted to break up, she had sort of expected it. It wasn't even so bad that he had done it two days before her 25th birthday. The part that really made her upset was what he gave as the reason — that for the past year, he had just felt really unlucky about everything in his life, and he felt like making a change would fix that.

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Sam watched the two girls leave the bar and sighed wistfully. The blonde was stacked and he was in deeply in lust. "They're way out of your league," commented Darren with a snort. "Besides, I don't think you're the right gender." "No way," stated Sam with a glare in Darren's direction. "I know for a fact Jenny's into men."

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As Angie, Anna, Selena and Lena crossed the park, heading to town for their regular Thursday night out, they passed a bench, and its' occupant attracted Selena's attention. He was around middle aged, dressed in black, nothing too strange about that, but his hat caught her attention, as did the fact that he was writing furiously on a pad.

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