Your erotic stories

I have this reoccurring fantasy that I dare not tell anyone who actually knows me. I identify as a bisexual woman, but I much prefer women over men. One thing that REALLY turns me on about men however, is them watching me and them masturbating.

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Julia pulled open the front of her black lace kimono style wrap and brought both of her hands up to her breasts. Pulling down her black lace push-up bra slightly, she began brushing her fingertips gently back and forth over her nipples, causing them to stiffen hastily. She then began pinching and pulling on both at the same time. An elegant, fine-boned woman in her late forties, she was clearly comfortable with her sexuality, as well as her own body.

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It felt odd, sitting in front of the screen, waiting to have a conversation with someone. But then it wasn't just a screen. A camera, too. I can see you. Big deal, I can see you too. I like the anonymity of the telephone, I can curl myself up, pull faces, read the news, hell, I can even play with myself, safe in the knowledge that no-one gets anything more than my voice. This felt a lot more dangerous.

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"You are kidding?" I shouted at the van driver as he walked to his vehicle; "Seriously...you are just leaving them there?" He continued ignoring me even though I had my hands on my hips and I was tapping my foot on the pavement, to show him that I was really angry.

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You first met him in your psych 201 class even though he was a senior and you were only a sophomore. He sat next to you the very first day and immediately started flirting. You liked it and you liked him. He was just your type. Strong, tall, athletic. A surfer build and tan skin. Cropped blonde hair and blue eyes. Smitten, you couldn't get enough. For him it seemed like a game, every day he'd flirt and tease you, and every day he'd leave without your phone number or without asking you out.

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"So how long is Greg gone for?" Sally looked up as Renee, her roommate walked into the kitchen. "Until tomorrow night. He has lab on Friday so he has to come back." They were all students at Boston University. Greg's family, like her own, lived back in Connecticut. They usually went down to visit together but she had an exam and couldn't make the trip.

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Chapter One When I met my wife, Susan, she was a sweet, toe headed girl who seems entirely too nice to be in the bar that I frequented with a group of buddies, we were all there for one reason, get laid. I had gone up to speak with her for just one reason, she just seemed out of place. Out of all the freaks and sluts, I'd met there; she was a shining star in the middle of a dark day, a beacon of innocence.

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Note: After some positive feedback from my first story I decided to continue with it where I left off. Thanks for all your comments. Feedback is always appreciated. I don't consider myself to be gay and have never experienced any sexual contact with another man, although there is an appeal that seems to draw me. I admit that I have watched men masturbate via video chat, I found this exciting and exhilarating.

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I never dreamed I'd experience sex with my own father. Never. But it happened when I was twenty-two and he was forty-seven. My parents were on vacation in Montana when they were involved in an automobile accident on the Interstate. A car in the lane opposite theirs sideswiped another car causing the two cars to spin and turn over. An eighteen wheeler transfer truck behind them slammed on his brakes causing his trailer to jackknife and that was what killed my mother, their friends who were in the front seat, and left my father in the hospital in casts.

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I left you a note posted at the door stating: "Strip down naked and meet me in our back room." From the back room, I could hear you laugh as you read it, but I smiled and hoped you would comply. I heard you, first removing your shoes and letting them drop loudly on the floor. The ensuing silence made me think that you might be taunting me, but I let out a sigh as I heard you mumble something about your pants.

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