Your erotic stories

"Please. Please...don't stop," I begged, hot and desperate. Right now, I thought as my mind raced, I'd give anything for the tongue that was buried deep in my pussy to send me over the edge. It was beyond skilled, having brought many girls before me to orgasm after orgasm with its quick flicks and expert movements. I moved my arms in an attempt to grab a fistful of hair, to pull that tongue further into me, only to remember that my wrists were bound to the wrought-iron bedposts above my head.

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I walked in, and that's when it hit me. The smell of sex, attacks you the moment you walk through the door, the smell of men on men, all here for thing, to get off and get other people off. The thoughts and images that flash through my mind excites me even more, the thought of being fucked hard just to please a stranger or strangers made my cock swell and ache.

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We have never been the type of people to be worried about showing our bodies. We have always walked about the house naked, even when the kids were still at home it was just as natural for them as it was for us. Dave and I have always made love with the lights on, in just about every room in the house and, yes, of course we have fucked outdoors as well! I just do not understand how some people can spend a lifetime making love in the dark.

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Omar and Barry were my neighbors in DC before they moved to California 10 years back. They lived in my building complex and we hit it off immediately after meeting at a mutual friend's dinner party. Barry and I quickly connected over our love of team sports. At nearly 6ft, he was a big man but surprisingly agile on the field. He joined my soccer team.

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I was a bit confused when I arrived home from work to find the living room furniture shoved off to one side barring a single chair, and the futon mat spread in the room. A moment's thought decided it must be movie night; we often laid the mat out to allow us to snuggle together while we indulged in a flick or two. The idea sounded divine as my day at work had been somewhat tedious and had felt overly long.

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I can't believe I'm the only guy who loves his wife, fancies his wife and desires his wife so much, he wants someone else to fuck her. Some guys might understand what I'm saying and others might think I'm making excuses for the fact that I can't possibly love her if I have thoughts such as these. The thoughts would have remained fantasies as my wife, Ellie, would never have entertained the thought of going with another man.

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Before starting my tour of duty in Okinawa, I thought my primary talent was playing the piano. I was soon to learn otherwise, though, and my late coming to "the" life gripped me like a disease or an unshakable habit. I had known since not long after puberty that I had an unusual attraction. I had formed friendships quickly from my days in high school—and not just with my school chums but with their parents as well.

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I have just taken my assigned right aisle seat in first class and opened the latest issue of "Newsweek" and begun to read a story about Terrorism in Iraq and suddenly - you walk through the entrance to the seating section of the Boeing 747. There is a certain air about you as you enter; every male in the front passenger area is staring at you.

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Walking up and down the aisles of the grocery store, I hoped I wasn't forgetting everything on the list I'd left hanging on the refrigerator door, like an idiot. I figured I could be forgiven, though, because I couldn't keep my mind off the evening ahead. Tom had promised it would be a night I wouldn't forget for a long, long time, if ever. When he had said this, the look he leveled on me had been blatantly sexual, shocking me because of its unexpectedness. The rest of the night at work had passed in a blur.

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I see nothing but blackness. My eyes search for light, but nothing registers. I blink and see absolutely... nothing. In this stifling darkness hands find me. Feminine fingers caress my skin reassuringly. But I don't know whose they belong to, nor do they tell me.

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