Your erotic stories

My name is Tanya, and I'm a chat room addict. It all started last year when I went on Facebook to reconnect with friends from all stages of my life. It was so much fun to find people and update each other on what had been happening in our lives. And that's when I started to chat. Chat really opened up the world for me. Faster and easier than a phone call. You could even chat while on the computer doing work or other stuff. Chat with friends all over the country and see their pictures. So I really got into it big time.

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I was so damn glad to be home. Work had sucked all fucking week long, and I was looking forward to a weekend of not really doing much of anything. If the wife pulled out her "to do" list, I'd simply refuse and deal with whatever repercussions I had to. At the moment, my sole plan was to get inside, put on some comfortable clothes, grab a beer and take root in front of the TV.

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It's the feel, I think, more than the appearance. Yes I'm interested in how they look, but I am more interested in the touch. Sure, the cut, the style, how much is covered and how much is revealed are important, but nowhere near as much as the sensations I receive. I get so aroused by simply holding the garment in my hands that sometimes it's nearly impossible for me to put it down.

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I first found out when I was somewhat young that I loved the way panties looked. Especially on a woman. Their body was just a beautiful shape. The curves, the outline and then you add the tight, thin covering of that body with cotton, satin, nylon or silk and it is especially exciting to me. It didn't take long to find out that to know what different girls wore was even better. To know what only one or two guys knew what was under their tight jeans or skirts was so exciting.

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We had been married for three years when my wife and I took a vacation and traveled to stay with one of her childhood friends. He is quite openly and flagrantly gay and was living with a gay friend, Dan. They were not serious lovers, just two young gay guys who shared an apartment and enjoyed the gay party life together. They were both handsome, openly friendly young men who no doubt made quite a stir at some of the parties they went to.

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I thought about it all day long. It was as if there was nothing else I had to think about. It can be funny how anticipating something so daring and deviant can consume your time. I finally had called Bill, and told him what my boyfriend Rod had been dreaming of. Bill, my gay pal, was into it. He agreed to come over and let my boyfriend find what it was like to suck a cock.

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I had just arrived home on break from college and was in Chip’s neighborhood, so I figured I’d just drop in and see if he’d gotten home yet. No one answered when I rang the doorbell and I was about to head back down the driveway when I heard a splash, indicating that someone was using the pool. I walked around the side of the house thinking it might be Chip but stopped before I opened the gate to the backyard. I could see the diving board still vibrating and a figure just surfacing at the shallow end of the pool.

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"Wake up, you fuck." Jeff opened his eyes and saw the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. Before Jeff could even see a face, the trigger was pulled and everything went black. Jeff sat up drenched in sweat. It was only a dream, but it was the same dream he'd been having for the past week. The dream was always exactly the same, always very short, always a gun to his forehead, and he never saw the face. After a few heavy breaths Jeff was finally ready to get back to sleep. He looked at the clock however, and it was almost time to wake up for work anyway.

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"Wahay!" A course Geordie voice shouted as I heard someone wolf-whistle me, "Careful you don't show us your stocking tops; sweetheart!" I had arrived home half an hour earlier after finishing a night shift at the hospital and as I was hanging some washing on the spinner in the garden my nurses' uniform had risen to mid thigh. I turned to scowl at the builders who were working on the new conservatory.

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There were silky red thongs, lacy black bikinis, pearl white strings and soft blue french cuts. There couldn't be a more beautiful collection of lacy panties and bras anywhere. I had just returned to my apartment building from getting my morning coffee and was going upstairs, when my pretty neighbor from across the hall passed me with her laundry. Being the polite guy that I am, I smiled and said "good morning" and she replied "hi" back. As we passed I peeked around my shoulder and got a glimpse of the treasures in her basket.

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