Your erotic stories

"M...m....Melons..." My stammered exclamation hung there in the laundry room as the young woman and I stared at each other. I could not for the life of me recall her real name. She was, after all, not my son's girlfriend. If anything, she was a hanger-on, an occasional presence drinking beer or occupying a lawn chair while the boys worked on trucks. All the guys just called her "Melons" because of the balloon like breasts she so proudly paraded in front of her.

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Amber was sitting on the subway train going into the city. All seats were taken and some passengers were standing. Amber saw a young business woman, about 30 years old, standing about eight feet away facing in Amber's direction. What a stunning woman, thought Amber. She was dressed in a dark gray suit that couldn't hide the shapely body beneath it.

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Angela was a few years younger than me - well OK a good twenty. She joined our company straight from college and had other assets apart from being remarkably good at her job. She had long dark hair, perfect slim figure without being gaunt and pert young breasts that just looked perfect under anything she chose to wear. She'd been with us six months when her performance and potential were first recognised.

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Every summer holiday, I would be sent off to visit my Aunty Ellen in Bournemouth. This had been our family's tradition ever since I had turned 12, and I think it was as much for my mother's sanity as for my sake. This summer was different: I had just turned 18, and I was going into my last year of private school. What the future held, I had no idea.

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Eric sipped his drink, watching her. Amber smiled coyly at him over the rim of her glass, laughing at something one of them had said. He had been enjoying their conversation, but his thoughts kept straying to how much she'd had to drink. Eric watched with interest as she dipped her fingers into the glass of her third cocktail, trapping a cube of ice against the edge of the glass. She wasn't necessarily the most beautiful woman in the world - but there was a light in her eyes that it was impossible to ignore.

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Secrets are one of the things that I love about being married. Some of the best secrets that my wife and I share with each other are, of course sexual ones, and that makes them special. I guess we're both pretty average looking and no one would ever guess that we are as intensely sexual about some things. And that includes some of our closest friends.

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The headline act was about to take the stage but I couldn't wait; I was desperate for a pee and I couldn't hold it in any longer. I was in serious danger of wetting myself. I made my excuses to my friends and hobbled across the crowded field towards the portaloos, thrusting my hands between my legs to prevent an accident.

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It was the summer after my senior year in high school, just three months of killing time until the start of college. I had just turned 18, and I had been single for the entire previous schoolyear. Small town, small school, and small dating pool made for an incredibly dull senior year. My girlfriend for the first three years of high school, the girl I lost my virginity to (the only girl I'd ever slept with) was a year older than me and had gone off to college.

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Coitus interuptus has long been my favourite method of birth control - even when I’m on the pill. Having a guy pull out suddenly and then come over my belly is enough to bring me to orgasm. Especially if he groans a lot and falls forward onto me, squishing the cream between us. And doing it doggie style is definitely my favourite.

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Most weekends I go down to Hong Kong – I've got a "Fuck Buddy" there who's also into piss play. He's a very hot flight attendant and Asian like me. We're not exclusive – both of us play with others and I'm also in a long term relationship back home (Australia).

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