Your erotic stories

Shari awakened later with a feeling of laziness. There she was on a boat with Tony and Mychelle still naked from the thrashing she took earlier. As she started to head towards the rear of the boat, she saw Mychelle on her knees before her. Shari saw her wrists bound in thick leather cuffs that were attached together by clips.

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My wife and I had been lying in bed talking after a round of great sex. When I say great sex, I mean great sex, which is what we usually have. On rare days, its no sex at all. A bad day is good sex, and on good days it's spectacular sex. This had been a normal day, which is to mean it was great. "Mmm, I love you, honey," I murmured as she rolled off me. "I love you, too," she answered. "I also lust you." I laughed at that.

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Tough to know where to start this story - in media res, as it were, I suppose; the dramatis personae: me, my girlfriend Selene, and a girl named Pam, a friend of mine first and ours later. Selene was a small and buxom redhead, with a peaches and cream complexion and a body the old masters would have brawled to get to - five feet two, long red curls, Irish eyes with a tiny determined chin that quivered when she was sad and jutted when she was angry;

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As he departed his office, Brian Miller noticed that the wind was blowing harder than he thought. He should have left sooner, but wanted to make certain the Ford Enterprises Gulf Coast office was secure. An inconsiderate Category 2 hurricane was approaching and had chosen late evening to arrive. The building had survived previous storms and would, no doubt, make it through this one. But still, the hatches had to be battened down.

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The red-headed man blew the whistle around his neck, and everyone's attention turned to him. He was balding and bearded, and a little overweight, but his bright blue eyes twinkled merrily. Other than the whistle, he was wearing only a pair of tennis shoes, and he carried a clipboard. "OK, then! The teams are assembled, let the games begin. We who are about to cum salute you! The first event is the wheel-barrow race.

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After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the door of Michelle's bedroom creaked open just enough for my short brunette girlfriend to stick most of her head out while one small hand wrapped around the door. Her shoulder-length medium-brown hair fell forward as her piercing eyes peered right at me as she mustered up the nerve to step out, her mouth obscured by the door and her hand. The only other things I could see in that moment were her toes as they protruded through the front of deep-blue shoes that I could tell were high heels.

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When my wife wants something, I can sometimes find it impossible to refuse her. We'd just got back from a weekend away where we'd met some friends and swapped partners. I'd always suspected that my wife, and mother of two children, was a whole lot hornier than most women. She was kneeling on the bed wearing nothing but a smile and casually stroking my cock to hardness when she asked me the question.

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Her Frame of Mind Boredom! Absolute boredom! And of course, the elixir, alcohol was part of the equation! How else could one explain a reasonably attractive, articulate, mostly responsible thirty-six year old woman going to a roach palace motel with the intent of fucking two men she hardly knew? It began late on a Friday night. With her second scotch in hand she wandered about her room wondering what she could possibly do next to make the night go faster.

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I gripped the seat with excitement as the driver turned off of Thomas and into the crowded parking lot of the Veterans Memorial Coliseum in downtown Phoenix Arizona. It was a warm August night in 1982, and the spotlights from the arena caught the flinty dust in the air, creating a sparkling light show above the gravel parking lot as the sleek white limousine headed up to the main entrance. I glanced at Andrea, who was sitting beside me grinning madly.

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Grace Discovers her Sister's Secret Sordid World The summer I finished my first year at university was uncharacteristically long and hot. A golden sun blazed down from a cloudless, crystal clear azure sky and baked the ground until the grass scorched and any unattended flowers shrivelled in the heat. It was a perfect time for me. I was nineteen and a full year at university had shown me life beyond school and the tight borders of the small, rural English town in which I had grown up. With little to do before the new term began, I had almost four months of free time stretched out before me.

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