Your erotic stories

I stand and watch her walk toward me. Her fingers are cool and dry as she places the collar around my neck, nimble as they buckle it in the back, the leather touching my skin all the way around, not tight, only touching. I feel her breath stir my hair. A snort of laughter escapes me and I stifle it quickly. She pauses, her hands still on the buckle, and leans around to look at my face. "Yes?" she inquires, lifting an eyebrow, that same slight half-smile barely curving her perfect dark lipsticked lips.

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In my experience it is more men than women who are into peeing. But in my case it was quite the opposite -- I never fantasized about it and if you had asked me I would have been disgusted. Here is how that changed. Firstly let me tell you something about myself. My name is Peter and I'm 35. This happened when I was 30. I'm 5'11, with dark hair and a muscular body.

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The bedroom was filled with the constant yet broken sounds of bed springs squeaking under the rhythmic thrusts of a man into his woman. But it wasn't the bed making the noise; it was Cindy who groaned intermittently with sharp, feminine 'coos' and 'ahhs' that were neither exaggerated nor too quiet to discern. Matching her steady pattern of moans and no doubt causing them was the driving of Carl's rigid seven inches into that sweet spot between Cindy's thighs.

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At the age of 13, I was having wet dreams of kissing my best friend. I was far too naïve to know that girls could do anything other than kiss, and far too horny to cum from less than a kiss. My best friend Marissa was shaping up to be very beautiful.

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I kicked my feet in Tim's pool, splashing my wife, Kim, and me with cool water. I leaned back, closing my eyes, soaking in the warm rays of the hot Arizona sun, recalling last weekend's events. Kim and I had had one of the hottest sex sessions of our marriage, and it was mostly due to her. "You got two ways you can go; jump him immediately or take the slow route. It will be up to you and how he responds to whatever you do to him," Kim had said.

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I had just turned 21 years old and every gay male who reaches that age does what every male gay or straight will do and that is to legally drink and go out and hit the bars and clubs. That day finally came in the summer of many years ago and I hit my first gay club with some friends. We were partying it up seeing the male strip show and then having shots, drinks, and just having some fun.

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Susan, known as Susie to all her friends, had just graduated from Junior College, and had her Associates Degree in Business. She was going to enjoy the summer off, before joining the working world. She had been thinking about making love to another girl for some time now. She had discussed it with her boyfriend, Paul. He, of course, was all for it, as long as he was included.

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Ok I know there are tons of first time stories out there and a lot of them are just like mine but I don't care and obviously if you're reading this you don't either so here it goes. My name is Kristina, call me Kris. I'm 25 now but back then I was 18 and youthful, I mean I'm still young but there is just something about 18 that is so much better. I was an average girl, brown hair, brown eyes, average build, average height, my boobs were a little above average and truthfully so was my ass.

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"The roads look like they're getting bad fast. You might as well stay here for the night." It was a reasonable statement of reality. Factual, logical. Looking out their front room window at the raging winter storm the last thing I wanted was to go out into the middle of it. However, the second-to-the-last thing I wanted was to encroach on their privacy.

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It wasn't auspicious for a relationship; he wasn't quite...right. Not that there was anything wrong with him per se, because there wasn't. We had met online through one of those dating apps; he was sweet and funny and intelligent. Normally he would have been perfect, but I needed something...more.

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