Your erotic stories

It was May in California; a nice, sunny, warm day, and it was time for spring cleanup. My wife took her parents out of town for the weekend to visit relatives, so I took advantage of the time and decided I would trim the neighbor's overgrown trees hanging over our backyard fence. I am a 49 year old, 5' 6", 160 pound hairy Italian guy, with salt and pepper hair. I'm in decent shape and like to keep my balls and ass shaved and my bush trimmed short; just the way my wife likes.

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Growing up my sister and I had been really close. We were only separated by a year, so her and I were two peas in a pod. Then junior year of high school came around and I started seeing other guys, and my sister hit more of a standstill socially. She was awkward around guys, and actually seemed to enjoy her time more in the private confines of her girlfriends. I found it strange because most girls were looking to date, or at least find a guy to hook up with a practice on before college.

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Sunday Morning in early March. I joined the regulars for coffee after a disappointing Saturday night; I hate to be part of a closing crowd, and so I'd left the Paradise Bar with fifteen minutes to go before the bitter end. It's my age, I suppose. As fine as I know myself to be at thirty-five, I just don't feel like competing at singles bars any more. So there I was, listening to the morning-after banter about the night before: Who did, who didn't, who got lucky, who got away.

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It was early April when I returned to the house I had spent my entire life in, up until the previous September. I had gone to college on the other side of the country and had been incredibly homesick for the small town I grew up in, a place I had hated until I had to leave. I missed my friends, my neighbours, my parents especially, and I was incredibly excited to see everyone when I got back home. Unfortunately, I was the first of my friends to finish my final exams at school, so I was back in town two weeks before most of my friends would be back.

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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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My wife, Natasha, is Russian, and originally came here as a work exchange student. We fell in love her first summer here. She was a virgin, and I was her first. We kept in touch when she returned to her university, and she came back the next summer. We lived together that summer, and got married at the end of it! Our sex life was awesome from the start. But we are both very sensual people, and a dispute arose.

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It had been too long since John had last seen Molly in any real, special way. It had also been too long since he'd cum. The last meeting between the high school loner and the sexy mail carrier who was fast becoming as obsessed with him as he was with her had been over a week ago, on Halloween night. For weeks the two had teased and tested each other.

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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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I met Jamie in a hotel bar while on vacation in Cancun. She was in her mid twenties and dressed in all black. She had several tattoos and piercing which is normally not my type but she was hot as hell. Her dark hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She had dark brown eyes with long thick lashes, a pierced nose, a pierced eyebrow and a pierced tongue. Her black tee shirt was tight and revealed firm b cup tits and a flat tummy which had a pierced naval.

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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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