Your erotic stories

I met Gord in a local chat room frequented by swingers and people that leaned towards the alternative lifestyles. Neither my husband Rick or I had partaken of any extramarital sex but it sounded so spicy that I was constantly returning and getting into conversations with the fifty-nine year old gentleman who lived a couple of miles from us.

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It was a warm spring night, for a dinner with friends at an upscale, trendy restaurant somewhere in the city. We both dressed a little nicer than the norm because the occasion and location demanded it. I was in a blazer, blue shirt and blue and green striped tie, but I couldn't hold a candle to how beautiful and sexy you were--a slim, shiny black cocktail dress, thin straps at the shoulders and a little lower in the front than usual. You also wore black stockings and heels. When you were getting ready, I caught a peek of my favorite black thong nestled in the front and rear of my gorgeous wife.

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I heard the door open and my wife came in. It was late but no later than her usual night of work. She walked into the bedroom and I could see in her eyes that she was frisky. I hoped I knew what would come next. She peeled her clothes off and left them in a pile beside the bed which creaked as she climbed onto it and straddled my head. Her strong thighs touched my cheeks as she steadied herself against the headboard.

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Westin Peachtree Four years ago my wife, Mary, and I had a night on the town in ATL and it turned into something incredibly unforgettable. We were made spectators, then participants, in a gang bang at a highly respected and rated ATL hotel, the Westin Peachtree. The WP is a 70 story hotel with a rotating restaurant the top, in the heart of downtown Atlanta.

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Dave stepped back to admire his reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the wardrobe door. "Not bad," he nodded approvingly as he scrutinised his naked torso, "not bad at all." He stroked his downy chest, sucked in his belly and flexed his arms. Yes, definitely the remnants of a six pack on his abdomen and his biceps were well defined. A little excess weight around the waist maybe but for a man in his forties, with precious little time available to frequent the gym, he looked pretty good.

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It started with a simple question. "What does swinging mean?" I asked. I sat at my computer on a Saturday morning wearing sweats and a wrinkled T-shirt. My husband, Bill, was reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. "What?" he asked, a surprised set of eyebrows poked over the top of the folded black and white page.

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We had been invited to a cocktail party at the Croydon Park Hotel in south London as the guests of one of my husband's clients who were celebrating his fortieth birthday. I wore the favoured 'little black dress' for the occasion, a black velvet cocktail dress, very figure hugging and sexy, but sophisticated enough for a semi-formal party. It was open backed and held on with a thin satin lace, criss-crossing all the way up from my lower spine, at the front it was also cut low but under-wired, enhancing my breasts and giving me an impressive cleavage.

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My wife Teri never ceases to turn me on. All I have to do is look at her and I get an instant woody, especially when she's in her nightshirt. I have always been a tit man. Teri's D cups are not only the beautiful work of Mother Nature, but are also of porn star quality, so naturally she had me at "Hello." And her large nipples are "ON" all the time. Due to her conservative sexuality, she wears padded bras every day in order to contain them.

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The ad read, "Wanted! An uninhibited male to help satisfy my wife." I had read the ad with some skepticism. But answer it I did. The next three weeks were filled with e-mail notes back and forth. They were a middle aged Black couple. She had the hots for more than he could give her. She was into almost anything; he was more straight-laced and conservative. When they finally sent the pictures, I was floored. She was knockout, drag down gorgeous. He was just your average run of the mill Joe. That settled it, I was going to get a piece of that.

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"What are you doing?" I asked quietly as I glanced furtively from side to side, making sure no one was looking. The subtle wobble in my voice betrayed my nervousness as his hand rested on my knee just below the end of my shorts. He looked at me and flashed a bright knowing smile. His fingers inched subtly higher and I felt a familiar tingle between my legs. I'd never had a sexual experience with a man before and for most of my life I hadn't even considered it an option but in the previous two years I'd begun to wonder what it might be like.

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