Your erotic stories

Cocksucker. I've been called many things in my time, occasionally in anger but often in the heat of lust, but that one is my favorite. Cocksucker. It's just so descriptive, so simple, so accurate. If you've called me that the chances are I've probably sucked you dry. My name is actually Alicia. I suck cocks. I'm an oral woman. I smoke too much, I talk too much and I chew gum too much.

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I want you to see me do this. I am driving my uncle's van. I am on my way to pick up Daddy Ford and Ray-Ray. I am deliriously excited. It has been three weeks since I first met these guys in the parking lot of a liquor store. Three weeks since I invited this pair of ex-cons to fuck me in the ass and then come in my mouth. They treated me like a whore, shot jizz and piss in my mouth.

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Today was going to be the day! I had carefully reviewed all of the candidates that had successfully gotten through the first interview process and had narrowed it down to three. All three second interview candidates were similar in background and education, but one stood out for what I was looking for. Let me explain.

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Halloween was fast approaching and Amy could hardly wait. She and her husband Mark were hosting this year's company Halloween party. The last few parties had been great and she knew this one would be lots of fun. She worked with a great group of people, and adding in their spouses or partners there would be 24 people attending. The party was this coming Saturday night and Amy and her husband were almost done with the preparations.

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On Caitlin's thirtieth birthday, she woke to find a letter on her husband's pillow. "Open at 10 AM," it said. She looked at the clock. It was 8:15. She looked back at the envelope, and considered it. If she opened it now, there was absolutely no way Richard could know. Right? As logical as that seemed, Caitlin didn't trust that. Richard had a way of knowing these things.

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Prologue The Right Hon Mrs Grace de Vere Cobblehaugh sighed deeply. Mrs Cobblehaugh (pronounced "cobbler") was not happy. Yet why should this be? The heiress to the vast de Vere estate had every right to be content with her lot. After all, she was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a handsome, dashing husband. It was a glorious summer day in 1895, and the lawn outside her holiday cottage stretched down to a pretty little river.

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iv. That night, after dinner, Kyle sat on his bunk, looking out onto the empty tier. In the cell next to him, he heard the breathy sound of a man either fucking or getting his cock sucked. He lay down and tried not to think about what would happen if Tyrone won the fight tonight. Kyle would belong to the man who won the duel. Tyrone's words came back to Kyle with the frightening clarity of coming doom - if you was my bitch I would of raped your virgin ass already and made you scream real loud.

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