Your erotic stories

I was always fascinated with oral sex, i'm not sure what started it or why it appealed to me so much but it just does. If I ever started dating a chick and found out she didn't go down that would be it for me. It was a deal breaker she had to suck cock or i wasn't interested. Swallowing wasn't as important but it was preferred. When watching porn my favourite part was the blowjob watching the girl on her knees being fed a thick meaty cock was the epitome of sexy for me.

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The day of The Dance finally came. Actually, come to think of it, it was not a dance at all! It was just a huge party that was held annually at one of the mansions in the neighborhood and everyone was invited to it. Nobody knows when the exact date of The Dance was. Hell, none of us knew who the organizers were because the mansion where The Dance was held had no records of any owners, dead or alive.

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While in college, as well as now, I was not "open" about being bisexual. I went to school for, and now work in law enforcement…not exactly an open minded group of people. That being said, I've got to admit, still love a big hard cock just as much as, and maybe a bit more than, a nice juicy pussy.

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My name is Mark, until today I lived pretty much an average life. I am happily married for many years with grown up children. I am self-employed and work from home, my wife has a good paying job at an insurance company. We are not rich but what I would consider comfortable. Recently I have been getting I guess you would call it curious about certain male/male relationships, to be exact I fantasize about sucking a cock.

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I had met a really nice African-American guy named Karl for some hot sex. I was travelling for business and was satisfying my bi desires on these trips. I had met Karl through a gay chat room and we had a great hook-up. We promised to meet up again when I had to visit his city again. (See "My First BBC" for the story of how I hooked up with Karl.) 

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The shower water has long since run cold. Those laughing, jeering voices have echoed into nothingness. Still I stand here, shivering and cowering, hoping like hell I am truly alone. Soon I will climb out of this cold, thundering stream and run through to the changing room. Naked. Those bastards have taken my towel and my sweaty cricket gear, even my box, shoes and socks.

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It was at the beginning of the summer, circa 1990, and Pete had just returned home from university. He would have enjoyed spending the entire summer lazing around and taking it easy, but he needed a job. University was expensive and although his parents helped out with the bulk of the cost, they didn't have the money to allow for anything other than the essentials. He wanted to earn some extra cash for clothing, gas, social events, and a myriad of other things that you can't get without money in your pocket.

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I first met James at a Christmas party my parents were throwing. He was the contractor they had hired to put together the new house they were building as an anniversary gift to each other. It would be a lot bigger than the two stories, three-bedroom house I had grown up in, which meant that there would be plenty of room for either me or my sister if we needed it, which wasn't something I was about to complain about, considering that at twenty four, I was about to run back home with my tail between my legs.

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You, my sweet wife Julie, have occasionally shared some of your fantasies with me in moments of post coitus intimacy. It seems to be our time together when we share our most inner secrets and sometimes, hidden, desires. One which has come to the surface several times over the past few months is a scenario of you watching me make love – not just participate in having sex – but truly making love, to another man while you watch.

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"Wash up, lazybones, and take those furs to Sir Charles," the tanner ordered. The day's chill turned his breath to a liquor-laden mist. "Sir Charles, Father?" Tanners asked, confused. The tanner rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Oh ye gods, why curse me with such a stupid boy?" He turned to the young man. "The banker, the one whose son you don't like. He's offered three gold for the lot."

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