Your erotic stories

It's Friday morning - "Casual Friday" at the office. I'm walking along with a friend when I see her coming toward me in the hall. As usual, I'm curious to see how she will react to me, and as we approach one another, I can tell this will include the usual awkwardness. I'm slightly behind Gina, my friend, who speaks first, a pleasant, "Hi, Deborah!" that draws a smile and a "Hi" in return. But then she notices me, and the reaction is clear.

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This is the follow on from "In the Beginning". Thank you for the kind comments. Please remember this is a true story. The weeks that followed our first, brief meeting in the car park were filled with frantic sexual contact between Rob and I. I recall lying totally naked on my bed and stroking myself until I came all over my chest and stomach as he told me over the phone of his desire to be inside my mouth.

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I love how today's older people complain that today's generation are all sluts. I mean, we are, but so were our parents and presumably our grandparents (although I'm not a big fan of thinking of grandma being a slut back in the day). The point is, although I wasn't a slut who fucked just anybody, I was very cock hungry when I was eighteen as was my best friend Kelly...although she was more of a fuck em' and leave them sort of gal.

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"Now you've got yourself into a bind." I snorted softly. It was a very unladylike sound, but at the moment, the only thing I could think about was what would happen next. Had he really read between the lines of all of our Emails? The online chats? The late night phone calls? Maybe I should have been more subtle. That's what all the magazines said, right? Guys needed to be told what to do.

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For some time Dwight had told me that when the time came, when I'd reached eighteen, and if I was still interested, he'd take me to the Candy Shop for the first time. I tried to tell him that he would be candy enough for me, but Dwight was an honorable man. That's the only reason why we ever needed to discuss the Candy Shop at all.

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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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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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