Your erotic stories

Trying to keep the band together had been a right pain. With constant changes of personnel it was proving an impossible task. We'd just get the band fully rehearsed, when the singer would leave, or the drummer, or the keyboard player, and then we would have to start from scratch all over again. I was at the point of giving it all up when I was approached by Mark, who offered to manage and promote the band.

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"Oh fuck," I cried. My index and middle fingers plunged in and out of my pussy as my thumb worked my clit. My hips bucked. I could feel my orgasm building. I thrust my fingers, deeper into my sopping cunt. I moaned with pleasure. Finally the dam burst, my body became rigid and my cum soaked my fingers.

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Part 1 "You WHAT?!" "Honey," he said, his eyes wide and pleading. He put his hands out in front of him, palms down, as if urging me to take it easy, to slow down. But I felt the world suddenly spinning out of control. He tried to grasp my shoulders. "Please... you don't..."

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The hum from the washing machines was a chorus of white noise drowning out the street sounds, the wail of sirens in the distance, the crazy-looking homeless man shouting profanities two doors up the sidewalk and the god-awful street rapper free-styling just outside the door of the 50 Cent Washeteria.

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"That was a lot of fun." Lori said as she leaned toward her husband and softly kissed his ear. Mike and his wife Lori were driving back home after a night out to dinner with a group of friends. They were a fairly typical middle-class couple. Both were 35 years old, they had no kids, and held above-average paying white-collar jobs.

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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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Karen sat quietly on the edge of the bed waiting. They would be here in just a few moments and she wanted to calm her beating heart. She was about to meet her best friend's latest lover. After weeks of hearing about him and being amazed by all the talk of raw sex and positions and role playing, she was excited and a bit afraid.

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This is a fantasy exploration of some of my erotic thoughts. I would love your comments. This story is for adult readers only. Always engage in safe sexual practices. Just another workout...or so I thought. I was working on my bench press and struggling with the second set. I knew I had more in me but I needed a spot to lift the bar off the bench. I looked around the weight room and saw Brian. We had met at the gym, and at that point we were just kind of "hi-how-are-ya" friends.

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Art had completed his training as a masseuse and he was now working part time at a salon near the college. He was in his junior year at the university and he was doing very well in school with a cumulative 3.6 GPA. Art would graduate in a year with a degree in business and he hoped to be accepted to graduate school. Art was an impressive young man of 21 years and he had dated many girls in college.

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We are married for more than ten years. We are yet to be blessed with a child. I am Nidhi, a mixed North Indian offspring of a Punjabi father and a Kashmiri mother, I am now in my mid thirties. I have fair complexion, tall, slim and well developed boobs. My hubby Venky, a typical southee, would reach forty in another few months. He is tall and dusky.

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