Your erotic stories

"Hey Babe, have the kids gone to grandma's yet?" I asked as I finished whisking up the fresh whipped cream for our dessert. Dinner was spread out on the table –herbed steak and a garden salad – and the dessert was done except for the cream in the bowl. It needed to whip up and then chill. You watch out the window as Jill and Sydney, our two girls meander next door to spend the night with their grandma.

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Most secretaries would be fired for wearing a low-cut blouse like hers. Most secretaries wouldn't get away with a tight pencil-skirt and the almost-visible suspenders around her thighs either. Most secretaries, however, aren't married to their bosses – and today is their anniversary. There are flowers on Lana's desk when she comes in, high heels clicking on the oak floor. That gets a smile from her, which isn't always easy this early in the morning; it's still dark outside.

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I had met a really nice African-American guy named Karl for some hot sex. I was travelling for business and was satisfying my bi desires on these trips. I had met Karl through a gay chat room and we had a great hook-up. We promised to meet up again when I had to visit his city again. (See "My First BBC" for the story of how I hooked up with Karl.) 

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An adventure with pegging and peeing, set in the great outdoors of the Olympic National Rainforest. Since people seemed to enjoy hearing about how I lost my anal cherry to my wife's strap on, I thought you might like hearing about another experience we shared and how that wonderful toy of hers found it's way up my butt again.

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My name is Mark and I have a confession. I'm an attractive 35 year old man with a pretty wife and two great little kids. I have a good job, a nice house and what appears from the outside to be a perfectly normal life. But I have a secret...a hot, sexy, naughty, filthy little secret named Lizzy. Lizzy was 19 when this all started (actually she had just turned 20, but that didn't make me feel any better). She was the daughter of Tom, one of my two bosses and a guy that could ruin my life if he ever suspected that I had done anything with his gorgeous daughter.

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They had a long-running game that they always played. It was called "Trust Me?" The rules were simple, really. They took turns, Stan having total control over Jackie for a weekend, followed by his total submission to Jackie on the following weekend. There was to be nothing that one couldn't do, should he or she desire it. There were no safe words, no refusals allowed. It was to be a sort of affirmation of trust and love each and every week. If one didn't really like what was transpiring, it was to be discussed later, after the weekend was over.

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I watched as my wife applied the finishing touches to her lipstick and then turned to me. "Right, I'm ready now, can you give me a lift?" We headed downstairs and out to my car. It was then just a fifteen minute drive to the restaurant where Kim was meeting her boss. She worked as assistant credit controller at an engineering firm and her boss was moving to a new job in Scotland.

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For the first 44 years of my life, I neither had, nor had considered any sexual liaisons with anyone of the same sex. This was until the following took place: Just to give you an idea of me, I am a tall slim (but not skinny) man, with short brown hair and blue eyes. I was in the car with my wife travelling to a music festival, we were having a row. I won't bore you with what it was about (as it's not particularly relevant) but it was getting quite heated and my wife's driving was becoming more erratic.

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I was laying on the moonlit bed of our recently converted spare room, looking out the low window wondering at the changes moonlight makes on the flowers and trees in full bloom in these late days of spring. The window was open letting in the cool, scent filled air. While I missed my children I was enjoying the peace and quiet of being an empty nester, of being young enough to enjoy it. Feeling so calm and at peace I dozed off.

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It's Friday afternoon and when my final class of the day ends I race back to my office to see if the email has arrived. I've been distracted all day in anticipation of finding out whether or not it's finally going to happen tonight. Logging in, I go straight to my inbox. Nothing. With a frustrated sigh I lean back in my chair, a stack of homework papers on my desk in front of me just waiting for grades.

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