Your erotic stories

If you told me a couple of years ago that I'd one day be having sex with a man, I would have laughed in your face. I'm straight. I've always been straight. I was married for eight years and have always loved dating women. I love women, the way they look, the way they smell and the way that they feel. I love to eat pussy and always will.

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PART I. I was overwhelmed while doing my makeup. I had to concentrate on making sure my fingers didn't twitch, sending the blush in all directions. I was so turned on it wasn't even funny. When I finished, and then gave my hair a last look, I left the bathroom, and my very high heels clicked across my apartment floor and back into my bedroom.

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This is the true and actual story of how I became a bonafide cocksucker. Well, other than my own cock, which I have plenty of experience with. During my years of exploring myself I had become flexible enough not only to suck my own cock but even deepthroat it as well. The first time I came in my mouth it was magic.

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As I sat in the window seat watching the rain and the wind causing waves on the normally still lake, I could only help wonder at how the weather reflected my mood. Yesterday had been gloriously sunny and calm and everything had been good in my life. Now my heart was broken and my emotions were threatening to drown me in a torrential downpour from which I could find no shelter.

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It's tough to keep a relationship going when you feel like no one really wants it to survive. Margo and I had seen our share of tough times, but we managed to keep our marriage together. Our relationship? Well, that was a whole different story. One of the points of contention in our marriage was our sex life. Or, more accurately, our lack of one. We were never the type to get passionate or worked up enough to break furniture and wake the neighbors. In fact, I'm confident that we were pretty damn boring in bed.

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The bar was reassuring warm after the cold night. I shook the rain of my jacket and ordered a cold beer. It had been a long day, or more like a long week. I'd been working the weekend shift and had been doing 14 hours a day for eight days now. My mind and body ached and the only thing that I was thinking was my much needed days off.

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It was a reasonable summer's day for England, the sun was out and it was quite warm. Not warm enough to sunbath by any stretch of the imagination, but it made my 300 mile trip back from University a bit less grim. I am always in a better mood when it is a nice day. I had the radio on singing away. I was wearing a white skirt and a white vest top.. The skirt was well above my knees, not super short, but not massively long either. The vest top stopped just above my navel showing off my belly button piercing which I had had done on my 18th birthday just because I was never allowed one before that.

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Martine looks down the row of women, each one standing perfectly still with their hands behind their head and their elbows just touching the girl next to them on either side. She sees blondes, brunettes, redheads, women of every race and color, a celebration of female beauty. They are all naked, oiled lightly, and each one has the exact same expression of perfect joy on their face.

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"You first encountered the defendant where, Mr. Philips?" "At my gym. We were members of the same gym." I did not want to be here, in this courtroom. But the DA had intimidated me. He had said that they might delve deeper into why I was in Baltimore—why I had left San Diego. I really didn't want them to do that. I had just fallen into it in San Diego.

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This all started because I decided, against all advice, to major in religious studies in college. I know, it sounds like a dumb choice, but it's what I was interested in and I decided to follow my grandmother's advice to pursue my passion rather than the practical choices everyone else thought I should make.

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