Your erotic stories

She is dancing with her friends in a club. The crowd is hyped up on the upbeat dance music, their bodies moving silhouettes, writhing rhythmically, bumping, grinding. It's pitch dark except for the intermittent movement of a great many colored strobe lights, the sparkle off the shiny disco ball dispersed across various surfaces in the room. She came here with a group of friends, guys and girls alike, celebrating the start of the weekend after a grueling workweek.

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Ramsay closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and unzipped her jacket. Her mother would have never let her leave the apartment had she seen how her daughter was dressed. The snug, low-cut camisole didn't quite conceal her lacy black bra; the hem of her plaid skirt fell several inches above her knees. Her black patent stilettos were decidedly of the "fuck me" variety. Ramsay peered down at her ample cleavage, watched it rise and fall as she struggled to catch her breath.

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"Don't be such a prude Thor! Nudity is perfectly natural and doesn't have to be about sex. In fact, they'd be more likely to think of our bodies in a sexual way if we wore G-strings or tight jeans." "Easy for you to say, you're not likely to be ogled as the fresh meat." "For God's sake stop with this nonsense already, Thor. They're NOT interested in your body for sex.

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Her wrists were tied together and secured with her own pantyhose to the headboard. He had left the room, with her kneeling as best she could, legs spread wide, giving him a perfect view of her now glistening pink slit, and more importantly the tight pink rosebud above. He said he wanted her ass. She thought they'd do some ass play for a little while and then he'd forget about it. But for the past two months he was persistent.

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"What'll wear?" I called out as I emerged from the bathroom. I had made all the preparations. Shaved legs and pussy, all hairless and nice and smooth. "Something sexy," Rob called back from the lounge. We were going to our first swinger's party. Oh, we'd swung many times before, twosomes, threesomes, foursomes and moresomes, but we'd never actually been to a party. You know what I mean, where you actually hardly know anybody. Well, this was going to be a party where we didn't know anyone!

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I recommend that you read chapter 1 before delving into chapter 2, but here is a quick recap reminder of what happened. Eighteen year old Kevin Lansing came home to find his older sister Hannah licking his twin sister Kristen's hot pussy. He quickly stripped down and joined in on the filthy fun, where plenty of licking, sucking, tonguing and fucking took place. In this chapter, we get to meet the parents, and see what they think of this arrangement.

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It was a Saturday night, during the Christmas Break and Sarah and I had nothing to do. I actually had a bit of work to get done at my apartment for my business, but, I had been putting it off to spend more time with her. When she got home that afternoon, she suggested we go out, grab something for dinner and run down to my apartment to get my project done, which she volunteered to help with. I really didn't feel like working, but, if it was an excuse to spend time together, I was in!

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You pour me another glass of wine, the night air is cooling but the water in the hot tub is keeping us from getting chilled. The party has moved inside but there are still three of us left. You sit snuggled up beside me, legs intertwined under the water. You have one leg over mine and the other spread out to the side, exposing your pussy without being too obvious about it. S sits across from us, we are talking quietly, enjoying the sounds of the night. I had turned off the lights earlier so we could see the stars but the moon and the light from the house allows us to see each other well.

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I have two cell phones. One has a number I freely give out to family, friends, business associates and one that is used just for a side business. No one in my family except my brother knows about that number. Now that my parents are gone and my wife is an ex-wife my brother is my family. It rings about three times a month and when it rings I know I'm about to enjoy my work.

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The scent of cooked turkey still lingered in kitchens across America and the shops and stores were already decorated for Christmas; the coffee shop where Carol sat being no exception. Disconsolately sipping her latte, she didn't feel in a very celebratory mood. The promise of employment that had motivated her to leave home and move to the city hadn't materialized and now she was homesick, low on funds and still job hunting.

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