Your erotic stories

The sky started clouding over as I found the cafe called 'Chances Are' down on Santa Monica Boulevard and pulled in. In 1974, I was nineteen, and had found a man in a swinger's ad magazine, and was here to meet him.

Inside, it was different than any other restaurant I frequented. The clientele was all men, not a woman in sight. I felt a shiver of guilt and fear as I waded into these unknown waters, looking around for a man in a black suede jacket with a large red book. That would be Gary. 

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It started with my wife Pam. She has a love for cock that I have never witnessed before in anyone else. She is constantly playing with mine, in public and private; she can't keep her hands off of it. She loves to tease me, loves to watch me grow hard, and loves to suck endlessly on it afterwards. She takes great pleasure in slurping my cock in the most delicious ways and always insists that I watch while she performs her magic.

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Hi, I'm Steve. I'm 41 years old and generally consider myself a kinky, but normal guy. I had met Michelle in a hotel bar in Houston. I was there on business attending a conference when we struck up a conversation. Though I was from St. Louis, I visited Houston often for clients. She was from Houston, which proved lucky for me.

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Some times, we go places we didn't intend to go, but are happy to get there when we do. That is certainly true with the way my wife and I developed sexually. We married after she graduated from college. I was two years ahead of her. I graduated and moved about 30 minutes away to my first job. We saw each other each weekend and also during the week. Sex was a priority then. I really liked sex with her. We would spend a lot of time naked. I liked that.

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Cliff took me for granted. For some reason he thought I was safe. Once I overheard him tell one of those guys he brought home that he wanted only straight roommates, guys who wouldn't hit on him, because he only wanted to fuck when he was in the mood. Well, he had been in the mood a lot these past several weeks.

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Author's note: this is basically identical to the other story I wrote, Truth or Dare, except this is told from Andy's perspective. ---- Andy had the biggest boner of his life. He was sitting in the living room with his friends Matt, Kate, and Stacey, and he was watching Kate give Stacey oral sex.

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Sharon and I have been married close to seven years now, and for the most part it's been great. The sex isn't as plentiful or varied as it was at first, but I gather that's par for the course. I've never felt the need to have sex with anyone else, unless you count Bruno. I consider myself completely straight, but a while back I bought a dildo (that's Bruno) and I like to use it on myself whenever I get a chance. Even that had purely heterosexual origins.

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The following is fiction. I do not condone unsafe sex, so take this as mere fantasy, for that is what it is. * There it is, that old beech tree. I haven't been back here in well over a year. But, my last memories of this place, like most passionate, life-changing events, are vivid enough to have been yesterday. I can still feel the abrasions that marked my chest for days after.

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It wasn't a regular day of practice; only Hank and I had come in, and we'd worked out in the gym after we'd done laps on the field. I could tell he was steamed about something, but I didn't ask about what. He had finished first, and it looked like I had the locker room to myself when I came in from the gym. I took a quick shower and pulled on my briefs and some baggy shorts and an athletic T, and there he was, right at my locker before I had gotten around to pulling my sneakers on. There was fire in his eyes, and he slammed my locker closed with his fist.

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It had all started innocently enough. We had just finished the gig when Bill came up and offered to buy us both a drink. To be honest I couldn't remember his name at first, but Julie my partner and vocalist, whispered it into my ear as Bill went to the bar. Julie's much better than me at remembering names, and has often got me out of embarrassing moments.

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