Your erotic stories

I lay there while he took my cock in his mouth. I had to admit that he sucked cock almost as good as my wife. He had shaved first so there was none of the scratchy whiskers to tell me that it was a man sucking my cock.

We were both in Racine, Wisconsin for a week long seminar. We had been assigned a room together. I knew Jim from work well. We had worked with each other for three years. I never knew he was gay. He stretched his naked body out on the bed.

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I'm sure that we all remember our first time. We remember with fondness the guy that made us feel accepted and special. We remember our first love, so deep it hurt to be apart and nearly killed us when it ended. So many memories, tucked neatly in the files of our minds waiting to be savored like a fine wine in a passing moment. I shared the story of my first time with you awhile back and received so many wonderful comments.

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I got a simple question. You ready? I mean, where does it say the little guys always got to lose? That don't make no sense. Okay, take my case. I live on the Gulf Coast, meaning Nature somehow don't seem on our side. If ya'll live in the Gulf, you know what I'm saying. Thanks to BP and the ol' corporate greed, we got a whole lifestyle around here starving away.

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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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You know what it's like when you lust after someone, really lust? Why is it that you lust after those you can't have? I suppose it's the same thing with those girls that follow boy bands around hoping they can bed the lead singer and knowing full well they never will.

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"Hi there, I'm Chris," I say, as we meet for the first time and shake hands. "Lovely to meet you. Come on in," you say. We walk through to the kitchen/diner. "Cup of tea or coffee -- or would you prefer something stronger?" you ask. "Coffee would be great," I reply, "One sugar and not too strong, thanks."

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I grabbed my coat and hustled out of the hotel room I had called my home for the last five months. I was running late and new that my trainer Dave hated tardiness. We were meeting to discuss the last week of my training before I finally got placed in my permanent position as a mid level manager. Dave wanted to meet at a bar and grill on the south side of town that had great food and a quiet comfortable ambiance. The problem was that this restaurant was on the other side of the city and there was no way I was going to make it before seven.

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