Your erotic stories

"Why don't you and Clancy go fishing," my dad said. The five of us, Uncle Ted, Aunt Bessie, Clancy, dad and me were finishing our afternoon tea in the farmhouse kitchen after unloading the fourth load of hay for the day. The new corrugated iron shed was a quarter full of hay and that was all there was room for. The rest was taken up with the farm machinery. The few horses dad still kept were in the old split log barn, which had seen better days.

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I have been married to my wife for eight years now and we have a decent marriage. We experiment, sexually, on occasion and have found certain things that really get each other off. The one we both agree stimulates both the most is when she puts on a strap on and fucks my ass. She becomes empowered by it with a sense of dominance, and I feel hot submitting to her. But sometimes you need extra outside stimulation.

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I took a cold Coke out of the plastic cooler. It was Friday afternoon in the southwestern desert, and I was alone in the company training area finishing up the paperwork. The younger sergeants had left long ago, heading for cold beer, air conditioning, and the NCO club if not some bar downtown.

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I set the weights down, grabbed my towel, and walked into the locker room. Sitting down, I removed my socks and shoes and pulled off my top. I stood up and pulled off my gym shorts and jockstrap. I put my sweaty clothes in my gym bag, grabbed a clean towel, soap, and shampoo, and walked into the showers.

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The wall above the drapes was faintly lit by a gray light. I figured it was close to dawn. The room was dark and quiet. Getting up. I found my way to the bathroom. The short hall was lighted by a strip of muted light leaking under the hotel room door. I closed the bathroom door and plunged into total darkness.. Fumblingly, I found the light switch, flipped it, and instantly blinded myself.

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This is a true story, as told to me by a friend. I'm a New York cab driver. Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's a living. Yeah, I've been held up. Twice. But life goes on, right? Boring. Or at least until that fare opened the door and climbed into my cab. Brown skin, black hair. Hispanic, right? In New York, probably Puerto Rican. But his eyes. God! Blue, astonishing blue. Made me think of a raging river. Deep blue. Dark. Dangerous blue. His mama must have fooled around with a Norwegian tourist.

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"There, is that better?" Peitr whispered into my ear. "Uhh. Yes, yes. That feels great," I answered, and my words turned into a soft moan. "Yes, I can feel it in your body. You are a lot looser now. You are moving with me more smoothly. Is it because of the release of guilt?"

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My car came to a stop below the front of the house and I just sat there. It had been a long day and I was tired and not ready for the chaos I would find inside. Instead I sat there in the car and lay my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes for five minutes of peace.

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It was the annual benefit picnic for the VFD, and it was hot. A hundred degrees in the shade, and record-shatteringly humid. As my wife and I sat listening to the band and sucking down the lemonade, a strange sensation came over me. Usually I was not a hot weather person, but this extreme heat felt like a sauna, and as I got used to the sweat, I started feeling the stirrings of desire. My wife was here to hobnob with her friends, though, and I knew she would not be receptive at this place and time.

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