Your erotic stories

Turning off I17 onto the road to Oak Creek, I spotted the renowned red rock buttes and cliffs to the west. The two lane asphalt road weaved up, down, and around low hills. Each time the road dipped into a low spot, the red hills disappeared, only to rise again, more majestic with each cycle of drop and climb of the road.

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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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I'd been in the same building before but this was different. I had been called to do some actual work for the volunteer bureau but had also been severely warned by my wife, the co-ordinator, that this client may be difficult.

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You have to understand this: despite my lover's sexuality and beauty, she tends to hide her light under a bushel in public. She rarely wants her physical appearance to be the center of attention. It's a long story as to why this is so, and perhaps that's a story for another time. Suffice it to say that she reminds me of a line from the movie, Moulin Rouge:

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I love dirty talk. It is a super aphrodisiac for me. When a man whispers nasty things in my ear I get all hot and bothered. He can take me from a standing start to full speed in nothing flat, leaving a streak of metaphorical rubber smoking on the metaphorical pavement.

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I walked the length of the hallway to our bedroom to change for a party we were going to. As I passed the bathroom John was standing at the toilet bowl getting ready to relieve himself. I stood there a second and watched feeling a tingle between my legs as I watched. Then slowly opened the door and walked up behind him.

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The Adult Entertainment Expo was a sexaholics dream. There were enough free giveaways to satisfy a guy's appetite for a t least a few months. Most companies gave away promotional DVD's or photos, and there were always plenty of hot actresses around. Gabe felt like a kid that was turned loose in a candy store.

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The yoga class had already started by the time I made it inside so it looked as if I'd have to wait until afterwards to get to the toilet. I was dying to pee but that wasn't surprising. The further my pregnancy progressed, the longer it seemed to take to get anywhere and the more often I seemed to need the toilet. I felt like a beached whale at times, nearly nine months in, just a few weeks to go and I couldn't wait for it to be over. The worst thing was not having anyone to share my troubles with.

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Ever since that night when my wife gave me head while she sat on the toilet taking a leak, the mere sound of her peeing starts a stirring in my cock. When she gets up in the middle of the night for a late night whiz, her stirring often wakes me a little. As I lay there in the stillness, I can hear her pad across the room to the bathroom, and I know in a matter of seconds I will hear those intoxicating chimes as her bladder releases and a stream of her hot urine sprays into the toilet bowl.

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There were three of us sitting in the bar that night. I was thinking of getting up and going home, even though it was still pretty early, but before I could speak to make my excuses, Romeo, who had been brooding all evening, abruptly spoke up.

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