Your erotic stories

Growing up in rural Virginia in the late 60's to very religious parents wasn't very much fun. After graduating from high school I wasn't going to hang around long. I was 18 and knew that there was more to life than what I had here. I had enlisted in the army and would be reporting in September, good by country life, hello to life in the big world.

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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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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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You walk straight through the hotel reception and head over to the elevators. Pushing the button you wait for it to arrive. You are wearing the tight blue jeans red hoodie that you know I like. Underneath is the black underwear from one of the pictures you sent me when we first started talking to each other.

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Elizabeth and I have been friends for more years than we care to remember. She is the one person I feel totally comfortable with, and who knows ALL my secrets. I have always known she is bi-sexual and admired the fact that she took the world by storm, while I was afraid to act on my desires.

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My husband Philip and I recently moved to Phoenix for his job. We had lived in Wisconsin for the last six years so this new weather is taking some getting used to. But I really love the warmth. Philip is an architect; he designs tall buildings and some nightclubs. He's a good provider. And we are still in love. We like most of the same things and our sex life is fantastic!

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I first met Saskia at an art class. I was posing nude and she was one of the students. When I got the chance to see her painting I let out a gasp. Unlike the others it was clearly me, but me as she interpreted me. My hair, quite blonde in real life was jet black in her painting, but she had captured the way it was styled so beautifully. My skin tone was a lot paler too, much more like hers and my lips were bright red, also like hers.

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Ahh, now I remember why I was willing to come to this silly reunion. The reunion activities were a total bore. I remember why I didn't like these people very much even in college. It's sort of amazing that I married Jim; he likes them well enough. I was bored and went out for my walk. But here, in my own special place, this is my favorite place from college. It's a little wooded glade right near the stream that cuts off the northern corner of campus.

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Summer – the first time. I followed her into the house, still not really knowing why I was invited. I guess I was a little in awe of a woman as beautiful as she, quite speechless, once I had realized who she was. After all, she was rumored to have been (until recently) the lover of a foreign prince;

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I'd been sat staring at Amanda's back for so long, I was surprised holes weren't burning into her top from the intensity of my lust filled gaze. From my seat at the back of the lecture theatre, I had a perfect view of her down on the front row, chewing on the end of her pen.

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