Your erotic stories

Elijah I didn't want to fall for Damien too hard. But I couldn't help it. I'd been nursing a crush on his delicious body for weeks. Then he saved me and cared for me and now I was well on the way to being in love. And after that kiss by the river... I felt like I was glowing, like I was happier than I had ever been.

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Brandon leaned over the low, padded cubicle wall and winked at Colleen and told her she was looking mighty fine today. Then, as he turned and moved down the corridor between the cubicles, a large, apparently heavy file box under his arm, he barely missed running into Rhonda, and gave her a cheery hello and a big smile before going on his way.

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The pain was fighting with the pleasure; the fear with the exhilaration. The struggle for the dominant sensation was sending my adrenaline through the roof. God, I was skipping along the top of the clouds. Shit, I was skimming the searing flames of hell. Pain, pleasure. Pleasure, pain. Right there on the edge. Would he love me or kill me? Would he fulfill my desires? Or would he take me to the edge of release only to abandon me to want and frustration? Either way, this was the edge that made me feel alive. This . . . this . . . this, right here, right now.

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It was Friday at Two and I had Jack on top of me again. I could feel his large demanding penis filling my pussy, drawing the juices out of my flesh on each slight withdrawal, and then pressing down tight into my ever wetter channel. I know that I should be tired of all this and that I should be glancing at the watch on the wrist of the arm which was stretched around his neck, but Jack was such an expert.

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"Are we sure we want to sell the house? It's in a great location and it should be scarfed right up. There won't be second thoughts to be had about it. Sales in Mystic are booming." Daren Peters was standing at a window at the back of the house, taking a break with a cup of coffee, while his older sister, Peggy, chattered on as she continued packing boxes to send back to California.

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They first saw him at the beach, just down from the resort where they were spending two weeks. He was with a girl as stunning and as gorgeous as he was. While they remarked on the absolute lusciousness of the girl, Yvette made sure to comment on the "big bulge" in the crotch of the boy's Speedos, drawing Steve's attention to the ample package of hidden male genital goodies. They shared a knowing smile, both well aware of their common appreciation for such goodies.

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I looked down between my shoes. I could see a candy wrapper and an empty firecracker casing floating in the dirty puddle between them. I reached down and picked them up, tossing them into an empty bag with the few kernels of kettle corn that I hadn't finished.

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Everybody's got a first time story. Being a 33 year old divorced guy, I thought all my firsts were long gone. You know, my first blowjob, my first fuck, my first older woman, my first three-way; I'd had some good times but I figured the rest of my sex life would be pretty run of the mill. On the downhill slide you could say.

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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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We were sitting down on the only couch available. Marco’s knees were bent, with his right ankle resting atop his left knee. I was further to left and facing him when I straightened my leg and that’s pretty much all it took. Searching for a place to rest my weary feet, instead, I encountered the inside of his firm jean-clad thigh. Indeed, quite by chance, I stretched my calf by pointing my heel and that drew my toes back over the delectable curve of his crotch.

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