Your erotic stories

As I signed the lease and handed the agent, Stephanie Peters a check for two grand to cover the security deposit and first months rent I found it hard to believe I'd actually left my wife and agreed to lease apartment number 1215 in Kurtz House for the next year.

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Crap! My back was killing me so I called up my masseuse. I've been seeing the same massage therapist for a couple of years now. Mindy is great and works around my busy schedule. She went into business after she lost her job in banking and was able to convert one of her spare rooms into her massage spa. Thankfully she's been making enough money to keep her home out of foreclosure.

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Shay's college roommate had moved out for the summer to study abroad. This left Shay with an empty room and not enough rent money. She decided to put an ad in the university newspaper in hopes of finding a girl to live with for three months. Sure enough, not long after, Kate moved in.

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Part of me hates this man, whom I'll call "X" for now. We didn't get along as a couple, which is why we broke up in the first place. I didn't even hate him when we broke up- it was very amicable, the old ‘we're just in very different places right now,' blah blah blah… but very soon after the split, I found myself fantasizing, over and over again, about the sex we used to have. It became totally consuming, to the point that I finally found myself breaking down and calling him on the phone one day.

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Alana drove home confused, worried, upset. So why was she also aroused, wet, nipples hardened and aching? It was Sela's comments at the bar. Off-handed, outrageous comments made under the influence of way too many tequila shots — and anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of alcohol's effect on the human brain wouldn't give a second thought to the ramblings of a thirty-something divorcée celebrating a little too enthusiastically with a couple of friends in a South Beach bar.

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Toby confessed that he'd been a virgin when he'd met Valerie. He was red in the face and seemed on the point of tears when he told her that he'd sucked a few cocks when he was at uni. He said that he'd presumed it was just a phase because he fell in love with her, but that he still thought about men and his voice grew very quiet as he confessed to lusting after their gorgeous neighbour Patrick.

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Honey, you really need to blow off some steam." Those words, coming from my wife of three months, are seared into my memory, no less so than if she would have branded me. Like any watershed moment in a person's life memories come fast and easy, some good, some not so good and some are a combination. The words came fifteen years ago today, while I was still a young attorney fresh out of law school and climbing my way up the corporate ladder.

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Steve hobbled on his crutches over to the large picture window facing out to the front yard of his parent's house. A few weeks earlier he had broken his leg mountain biking with his friends and was going stir crazy. At twenty-six he had moved out of his parent's house years ago but it was a bad break and he was going to be in a full leg cast for three months. The whole summer, and his mother had insisted that he move back home so she could take care of him.

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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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I suppose trouble follows me because I look for it, but sometimes (more often than not) I find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time (or as I would say, the right place at the right time). Such was the case on New Year's Eve.

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