Your erotic stories

Henri smiled. Susan liked the cheerful, guileless concierge-come-garçon de café that was as much a part of the pavillon as the faded, not-quite-peeling paint, the louvered shutters and the balmy salt breeze. She'd come to treasure this quiet little place on the Côte d'Ivoire. Henri's warm grin and genuine welcome greeted her every time.

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Kelly Wurtz had always gotten her share of attention from men. Her body was a most exquisite collection of curves, from her perfect 36C's to her extraordinarily lush backside, she was the subject of stares wherever she went and enjoyed her choice of lovers while avoiding long-term relationships and the dreaded 'M-word'. She loved the excitement of motorcycles and the company of the men who shared that passion, although seldom did she engage in intimacy with those men.

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About two years ago, while working for the space agency, I was sent to a one week training/workshop in Huntsville, Alabama. I stayed at a hotel within walking distance of the Marshall Space Flight Center, where the workshop was to be held. There were about 75 people there, composed primarily of engineers, technicians, research scientists, a few administrators, and some military personnel.

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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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My name is Emma. I was born and grew up just outside of Buffalo New York. My father worked very hard in a plant thirteen hours a day that smelted iron ore that was brought in off of the great lakes. My mother had her hands full with my seven siblings and me. I was the eldest and had just turned eighteen in 1877 when the widowed butcher of our town that was in his late thirties asked for my hand in marriage.

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It was Saturday night and Mike was home alone. He didn't mind because there were absolutely no interruptions as he watched hockey. It was the playoffs and the second game of the night was just coming to an end. He went to the kitchen to get a drink and paused to take a long look at the freezer.

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It was probably the most difficult position I could be in. Here I was sitting in the same room as my girlfriend and my ex-wife talking and drinking. We had always been on good terms, but this might be taking things too far. We were together for the kid's. It was my oldest daughters continuance to high school, and we were having a small family get together. Things were going fine.

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For quite some time Dave and I had been talking about becoming involved as a threesome, with a stranger while on holiday, but the little green eyed god of jealousy had been holding him back. Not so much that he wouldn't have gone with another woman behind my back, but he was finding it difficult to relate to my having sex with another man and being open and matter of fact about it.

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There are those of us who get on Antiques Roadshow, and those of us who don't. I'm a damn good appraiser and a nice-looking girl, but I don't have the screen presence or the fancy reputation to get on TV. But it doesn't bother me, because I'm also a New Yorker who's never really comfortable outside the city. Besides, I have a name inside the business, with those who matter.

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My dear sisters: I have been asked to give a history of my experience with Priapus, and my part in the revival of his ceremony. I trust that this account will not leave the walls of this sorority house. Here, as best I can recall and recount it, is the story. When I was in college in the early seventies, it was a very different environment than it is today. We were all so much more innocent than girls are now.

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