Your erotic stories

As abbot of a monastery I sometimes need to add new monks to the fold. Our previous prior was replaced by my male lover Matthew. Matthew was our computer guru and I needed another monk to fill a position. Coming to a monastery isn't like in the old days. I need people who can serve a purpose and have modern days skills in a field. I spoke to Matthew and he asked who I was going to bring in.

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Brad lay staring into the dark, looking at an invisible ceiling while listening to a strange man's slow rhythmical breathing and wishing he were back home in his own bed with his gorgeous girlfriend. Instead of that he was sharing an anonymous hotel room with a total stranger, one who just happened to work for the same company as he did.

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She came in holding papers I recognized as the one I ripped from my ex’s diary describing our sexual exploits in great detail. She waved them in the air with one hand on her hip, “Why would you keep this from me?” I didn’t respond.

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PRELUDE Shelia Jones always left the house to go to work by 8:00 AM. This particular Thursday morning she did not feel well so she called in and left a message at the office that she would not be in that day. Then she went back to sleep and didn't wake up until almost noon. She eased out of bed and took care of her personal needs in the bathroom.

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I've always had an affinity for older men, but these days it seems I'm either the older man or one of the older men involved when there's sex play. But recently I was fortunate to meet a man who at seventy-one made for the widest margin in age I'd been with in quite a while. John and I met at a rehearsal for a school function in which my granddaughter and his great-grandson were involved.

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Criticism much appreciated, this is a rewrite of Brian's Fuck and have changed the title as you suggested. * I felt Brian's fuck like I knew I would. He was a big guy and I just knew when we did foreplay it would hurt first time, but the fact is I wanted it and I wanted to share the experience with Brian who I trusted implicitly.

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The boy had no real name. He was the tanner's get, below even the whore's runts, responsible for soaking the hides in urine. The tanner called the child "Boy," long after the boy had left childhood behind. The town was large enough that most forgot to which tannery the young man belonged; everyone called him "the tanner's boy" for so long that it became his moniker.

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I was tightly surrounded on the subway train by four young toughs, and I had a cock up my heretofore heterosexual ass. How could this have happened to me?

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and my wife, Florence, and I had taken a taxi downtown to Lacey's Department Store. We needed a new bedspread as the old one was getting pretty threadbare.

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It started innocently enough: We were sitting in his living room drinking wine and Danny was telling me about his high school wrestling team and how he won forty-eight straight matches. His eyes wore a glazed-over expression as he talked about his glory days. "...and out of those forty-eight matches, I pinned thirty-one of my opponents in under a minute in the first round!" he declared, triumphantly.

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"You are behaving like a spoilt brat, Gareth."

"Am I really? Perhaps I have good grounds," Gareth retaliated as he continued to pace.

"Getting a new Anaesthetist is hardly the end of the world. You managed before Ed and you manage when on shift with the others."

"Managing and working well are two different things entirely, Shirley."

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