Your erotic stories

I sat on the wide polished piano bench. Late afternoon sun cast striped shadows as it streamed through half opened blinds; golden motes of dust danced silently in the air. He sat, as he always did, next to me. Years ago, I had begged my mother to learn to play – we had a baby grand at home – and she finally relented.

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I had known Julie as a friend for the last 4 years. Julie was a 29 year old, natural beauty. She was about 5'8", with silky brown hair, blue eyes, slender body, which showcased her perky medium-sized tits and tight little butt. One evening at a party we somehow got into a conversation about sexual fantasies. Julie was normally a bit reserved talking about sex since she always behaved as a "good girl." But this night she was already sipping down her third Long Island ice tea and had developed a pretty good buzz.

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PART ONE After my girlfriend Jenny and I broke up, my social and sex life seemed to go on hold for awhile. I found that I now had lots of time to perfect my masturbation skills. Jenny simply moved on to another boyfriend. I began to see myself as just one more entry in her diary, but that didn't keep me from bringing her sexy body to mind as I lay on my bed in the dark of night and stroked my rigid cock. I usually pictured her in her snug designer jeans, her cute round ass moving seductively in the cleverly tailored denim as she walked ahead of me in the hall at the local community college we both attend.

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Amanda had always thought her name should be Jane, 'plain' Jane in fact. She had suddenly reached 35 years of age and she realised that she was invisible. During school and her twenties it was always her friends that were noticed by the men that she liked. She had endured many evenings out where handsome men had walked passed to chat to her friends. Her brief marriage to Carl was a convenience rather than a love affair with rom-com like qualities.

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It's difficult to meet gay men in the burbs, so when I discovered a gay social club on the internet I decided to check it out. The group meets in a church basement in a nearby town. Only a few men were in the room when I arrived at seven. A good-looking older guy approached me. "Hi. I'm Steve. Welcome to the group," he said.

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"So, what's with the hair?" Traci asked, a concerned look on her face. She had just noticed my bright pink locks. "I'm taking that job in Alaska. It's to celebrate my decision." "What?!" "I'm just too young to be stuck in this office, Traci," I whined. "Janie, this is a good job." I hated it when she got that motherly tone with me. True she was twelve years older than me, but she didn't need to be so condescending.

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Once Sarah and the 'old man' left, (a derogatory name for a senior officer) the six of us continued drinking accompanied with our double entendres and risqué anecdotes. Visible to all, inquisitive hands gratified my leaking pussy; I could feel my body pounding, pounding with anticipation. The anticipation of being fucked, fucked by two or more fit soldier's just back from a war zone;

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Hi, my name is Jennifer and this is another one of my ongoing series of stories about my various adventures a young wild woman. For those who haven't ever read one of my stories, I'll fill you in a little background. For those who have read previous stories, just skip these next couple of paragraphs, you've probably heard it all before. I live in California and am a professional portrait artist.

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Eighteen months had passed since Jack Trengate and his wife, Sherri had become swingers. First with their long-time friends, Glenn and Wendy then James and Valerie were added, a black couple they met at a party. The three couples met at each other's home once or twice a month and everyone looked forward to the encounters. Jack had long overcome his initial concern of seeing Sherri with other men and looked forward to watching her with Glenn and James.

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Dallas and Eve had hinted around to each other about wanting to go to a "club" like the one he'd found on the internet. You know the type of hint; those sort-of cloaked suggestions that are buried in nervousness and a bit of shame. And you know the type of club; those private, join for the night "swinger" places where basically anything goes.

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