Your erotic stories

I made it through the week, not an inconsequential accomplishment in that strange year so long ago. 

I made it through Saturday, too. I wrote a little and did laundry and got some physical activity to try to take the edge off the tension I felt rising within me. I was horny and on a whim, I called up the web site of the Washington Blade, the local gay paper. I scanned the ads, and thought back to how things had been when i was just entering middle age.

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The sky started clouding over as I found the cafe called 'Chances Are' down on Santa Monica Boulevard and pulled in. In 1974, I was nineteen, and had found a man in a swinger's ad magazine, and was here to meet him.

Inside, it was different than any other restaurant I frequented. The clientele was all men, not a woman in sight. I felt a shiver of guilt and fear as I waded into these unknown waters, looking around for a man in a black suede jacket with a large red book. That would be Gary. 

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Doctor Charlotte Preston sat in her dark grey wingback chair and quietly tapped her pen against her folio papers as her client rattled on about his latest setbacks, as he saw them. She had been trying to concentrate all day with little success, Jackson was coming in for his appointment right after lunch and she could barely contain herself.

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This incident from my young life would never have happened if it hadn't been for my best friend Barbara's cousin Nicole. Nicole had visited Barbara before, and I had met her a couple of times before that summer after Barbara and I graduated from high school. Barbara and I often slept over at each others' houses, so it was not surprising that Barbara told me to come and sleep over on the Saturday night when her cousin was there.

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My name is Trish, and my life changed by pure coincidence. A single friend of mine was showing me this website she was using to help find people for her to "hook up" with. I wasn't really interested because I'm happily married and have been for twenty years, but it was great hearing her get excited about it. She just gave me a quick overview of the site, punched in some search criteria and let me look at the results.

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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.

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When my father died, I blamed my mother. Not for his death – the car accident that killed him was due to bad weather and a teenage driver – but for all of the unhappiness that settled on our home and stayed there after he was gone. My mother locked herself away in darkness, and tried to keep me there, too.

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After years of carrying around our clunky old cell phones, Sara and I finally knuckled under and bought some of the new trendy little gadgets with cameras, games, and all that fun stuff. Little did we know what such a mundane transaction would lead to. We'd had the new phones for about six weeks when I went on a business trip for a couple of nights. I travel often and one of the things we love to do when I'm on the road is engage in some spirited phone sex.

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Ch. 01 Kennedy stepped out of her car onto the gravel parking lot and into the hot and humid August air. Shielding her eyes from the sun she gazed towards the rugby pitch at her teammates getting ready for todays practice. It was the first practice of the season and she could not wait to step onto the field again with her girls. As she strolled across the freshly cut grass she smiled at the familiar faces of her team who she hadn't seen since May.

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It was late summer and the beginning of mine and Christina's senior year. We had both just turned eighteen and we were eager to have fun. She was five seven, Italian, had smallish breasts with dark red nipples. With nipples that were continuously erect and an ass that was more than generous, Christina had men following her around like a bunch of hound dogs chasing a raccoon...

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