Your erotic stories

I thought I could feel the individual rays of sun on my chest, heating my skin and hopefully contributing to the tan I was working on that summer. Even through my eyelids the Greek sun shone a bright white. Sweat dripped down my temples. While I'd been at the beach for an hour and a half already, I'd only been tanning for 20 of those minutes, and I knew I had maybe 5 more, hopefully 10, before I had to jump in the Mediterranean to cool off.

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It had been too long since John had last seen Molly in any real, special way. It had also been too long since he'd cum. The last meeting between the high school loner and the sexy mail carrier who was fast becoming as obsessed with him as he was with her had been over a week ago, on Halloween night. For weeks the two had teased and tested each other.

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DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the result of my imagination or are used within a fictitious context. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, places, or incidents is entirely coincidental.

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One of my father's crudest friends had a saying that he reserved for men he thought were losers with the women. He would say, "That guy couldn't get laid in a whore house with a pocket full of hundred dollar bills." I never thought about that much; I figured I was doing alright with the ladies until I turned forty. Then it dawned on me, I had never had one that truly cared about me. Through my blue collar hard-working, long-hour days, I had a long string who abused my trust, used me and made me pay too much for the attention I got from them.

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The following story is informed by real experience, but borrows liberally from long held fantasies and the promise of more. It is the first session of a D/s couple that will be followed by several more before their relationship reaches its peak. * It wasn't the most gradual start to a relationship, Jack mused as he shook hands with the dark-eyed receptionist who had given him directions with an easy smile and seemingly genuine good cheer.

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My wife and I have been married for almost twelve years. While I love her deeply, our sex life has become somewhat boring. She's a stay-at-home mom to our two children and our sex life has become a routine of "put the kids to bed, turn out the lights, and be quick about it". That was until recently, when our sex life changed for the better. In the last few weeks, my wife has begun working out on one of those big inflatable exercise balls.

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This all started because I decided, against all advice, to major in religious studies in college. I know, it sounds like a dumb choice, but it's what I was interested in and I decided to follow my grandmother's advice to pursue my passion rather than the practical choices everyone else thought I should make.

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I've always loved Paris art cinemas. These old, worn-out theatres, showing forgotten films in bad state, smelling of rotten fabric and dust, nowhere in the world is quite like them. There is something special about Parisian art-house cinemas; the very bohemian meets the very snotty, the richness of the film and the beauty on the screen conflicting with the nastiness of the space and people.

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I had sold a run-down house to Cory Tomas a few years ago. He is about forty-five, is a local truck driver, has a big beer belly, is a good poker player and seems to be a good father to his pre-teen kids when they stay with him every other weekend. Of course I also know his financial situation, but other than those things, I only know that he always seems to have a reasonably pretty, shy woman with him. Each one would stay a few months and then there would be a new one. One day he told me about the free Texas Hold'em tournaments at one of our local bars.

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I kissed my wife good-bye. Then I watched as the car pulled out of the driveway of our beach rental with her and my sister. I didn't waste time before I pulled on some swim trunks and headed down to the shore. I made my way across the street and up the public access out to the beach. There was nearly no one around as made my way across the sand. It was no wonder, the waves were pounding hard on shore and the water was still too cold for swimming long this early in the season.

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