Your erotic stories

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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For Evan, wherever you are... It was twenty minutes after James's confession of age that I lay in his arms, my head on his chest. It was a new experience, and all of the new feelings were washing over me. I could not believe that not too long before I had had sexual intercourse with a man. I had always considered myself straight, never had once looked at another man or considered what it would feel like, but now I was in uncharted territory. What did this mean? Was I gay? No, I couldn't be.

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As I walked into the bathroom, I immediately took note of its strange cleanliness, considering its location off of a highway. I sat down in one of the stalls and closed the door. As I finished my business, I turned around to flush the toilet, and noticed a hole in the wall, about 3 inches in diameter.

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I was getting ready for a trip to Washington on business, for work when Bill, a guy I didn't like at all, said at coffee, "If you are in D.C. you have got to go to the Iron Rod." "The what?" I asked, barely listening since all the guy did was bullshit. "The Iron Rod is the best pick-up bar in Washington. You are literally guaranteed to get fucked," he explained.

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I had only been home a few weeks when my boss called me into his office. He asked if I wanted to go back to Miami, a customer had called and needed some help planning a big project. I asked for a couple of days to get ready and he said that wasn't a problem. The first thing I did in prep was to call Anthony and tell him I was coming back. He told me to call when I found out my itinerary and he'd pick me up at the airport.

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My Husband It really is amazing how many secrets married people can keep from one another. I'm not talking about small stuff either, huge life altering secrets can be kept from loved ones with relative ease. I can't help but laugh at the countless husbands and wives who sternly insist that they know everything there is to know about their partner. Usually, those that are the most confident in the marriages are the ones who are slapped with the biggest jaw dropping revelations of them all.

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Insolent. That was the only word that came to mind as I looked at Jeremy Saitou. Everything about him seemed to radiate impudence: his brightly colored hair (red enough to rival any fire engine), his pierced brow and lower lip, the electric blue plugs in his stretched earlobes, his mouth, which—thanks to a small scar on the right side of his upper lip—was curled into a permanent sneer.

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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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Let me first introduce myself. My name is Marcus Sinclair McManus. I am twenty-five years old, single and I live in Los Angeles. I work in advertising for a relatively small, but very successful and profitable agency called Sinclair McManus, which I also happen to own. I became the sole owner of this agency, founded by my parents Andrew McManus and Jennifer Sinclair, some three years ago, at the tender age of twenty-two, when both my parents were killed outright in a truly horrible automobile crash.

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"You will be the death of me," Luke growled into Ashton's mouth, pushing the older boy back onto their hotel bed. "I swear you'll kill me one day." "Oh no, we don't want that, now do we?" Ashton smirked, his breath leaving him in a gasp as Luke bit down on his bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue.

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