Your erotic stories

I don't claim to speak for all cock suckers but what I'm about to reveal isn't going to come as a surprise to those who have given this subject any thought at all. Married cock suckers, in general have a guilt complex! That's right. If you think about it why would a normal, healthy, married man actively seek out men to "service"? Something is rotten in Denmark.

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Alana drove home confused, worried, upset. So why was she also aroused, wet, nipples hardened and aching? It was Sela's comments at the bar. Off-handed, outrageous comments made under the influence of way too many tequila shots — and anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of alcohol's effect on the human brain wouldn't give a second thought to the ramblings of a thirty-something divorcée celebrating a little too enthusiastically with a couple of friends in a South Beach bar.

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"Oh god yes... fuck me with your fingers. Harder..." My two fingers dug into Sandra's juicy cunt each time I slammed them up her slimy hole. I was pressed against her back with one hand down the front of her shorts fingering her pussy and the other under her top squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. I could feel her body tremble and knew that she was quickly losing control.

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Heather let herself into the house, kicking off her high-heels the second she set foot inside the door. She was taking the afternoon off; getting things ready for what she was hoping would be a night to remember. The suit jacket was next to go, tossed haphazardly across the arm of the couch. She would need it again later but for now, it'd be too warm.

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It was my good friend, Kara's boyfriend's birthday and a big group of us were heading out for a night on the town. I didn't really know her boyfriend, Levi, very well but I was in dire need of a night out. Before running out the door for my taxi, I gave myself a once over. I'd gone for a short black skirt, with a black scoop neck top that showed off my ample cleavage. I also had black, silk stockings on as it was a bit cold with black ankle boots. I looked pretty, damned good if I didn't say so myself.

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I’ve known Margie White and her family since I was 4, she has been my mother’s best friend forever it seems. I had a crush on her that wouldn’t end, she has great big tits and a large ass, and it doesn’t even bother me that her belly bulged out. She always had a smile for me and on open ear to listen to anything I had to say. I would go over to her house to visit her son Neil even though he was 2 years older than me.

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It was early April when I returned to the house I had spent my entire life in, up until the previous September. I had gone to college on the other side of the country and had been incredibly homesick for the small town I grew up in, a place I had hated until I had to leave. I missed my friends, my neighbours, my parents especially, and I was incredibly excited to see everyone when I got back home. Unfortunately, I was the first of my friends to finish my final exams at school, so I was back in town two weeks before most of my friends would be back.

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Your heart is thumping, the adrenalin and anticipation beginning to be usurped by arousal. This whole scenario has an element of the surreal, and yet you stay fixed to this spot. He stirs behind you, moving close enough for his cologne to caress your senses, even if his hands are yet to.

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Excerpt from Part l: Mara was silent for a while as she sat watching me in my indecision. Finally she spoke. "Jaz, I want to give you something. I want to show you a little of what it could be like with me. You intrigue me. The way you kissed me, I know inside you there is a woman waiting to love, to give and receive. I want to be that person.

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