Your erotic stories

It was a Wednesday night, which was two for one rental night at the local adult video store. I picked out a couple of European titles from my favorite director. His films usually featured exotic locales, stunning eastern European babes, and lots of anal. I brought the empty cases up to the till, and the clerk moved over to the drawer where the actual DVDs were stored and retrieved them. I completed the transaction in the usual fashion; minimal words, averted gaze, the slightest tinge of embarrassment for being in the shop in the first place. 

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I breathed on my new chromed nametag and polished it on my sleeve. I had been promoted: Sergeant Lincoln Lovel. I attached it to my blue uniform shirt, checked myself out one more time in the mirror, and walked outside to the police car in my driveway. Life is good. My utility belt gleamed, newly polished; my buttons all glittered; even my service pistol shone like it was gold-plated. And I had sergeant's stripes on my sleeves!

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INTRODUCTION

My name is Brian and at 27 years of age I consider myself to be bi-sexual. I love the ladies but I am not ready to make a long term commitment to one woman. I like to play the field and I love the art of seduction. Usually I am successful finding women to bed and I have found many a woman with the same objective when I am out clubbing. There are times however that I am not in the mood for the chase and I will seek out other methods of sex. 

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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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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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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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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'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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