Your erotic stories

Man spilling blood in honourable, woman spilling blood is unclean, what logic is that? I am Rohan. I am nineteen. I am in the second year of my bachelor degree course in engineering in a college near the extreme southern tip of India. My family consists of my father, a retired accountant from the revenue department, my mother, a housewife, and my elder sister. Her name is Sarala, but as I am younger I cannot call her by name. I call her Akka, which in the Tamil language means elder sister. She is 23 years old. After graduation she is at home waiting for marriage.

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My 18 year old brother, Robbie, swam every day in our backyard pool during the summer of his graduation. He wore short, tight "Speedos" for a bathing suit, and watching him walk around in them was a real turn-on to me. He was staying out in the sun too much, I could tell and that wasn't good for his skin. I kept telling him that he needed to get some lotion on his skin, but he just ignored me.

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Victoria didn't know why she bothered. If she had known, she wouldn't have spent so much time on her outfit. She arrived at Simon's place a little after sunset, so she wasn't too worried the neighbors would spot her in her slutty clothes. But... just to be safe, she put on a long skirt and overcoat as camouflage. She used the key Simon gave her last night and stepped inside the duplex.

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The noisy alarm clock buzzed and buzzed. Wanting to continue sleeping, he flailed his arms out reaching for the snooze. To no avail, he groggily opened his eyes and stepped out of bed shutting off the dastardly invention. The clock read 6:00pm. Jeremy had gotten a nice Saturday afternoon nap in before his date that night.

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I've been at this gig for about three years now in a Northeast city. It isn't what I expected to be doing, career-wise, at my age, but I can't gripe about the pay. This is for a private apartment complex (not a hotel, mind you), so it's rightly what Europeans define as being a Concierge (attending to high-end residents' needs). I'm in my mid-twenties, tall and reasonably fit, outfitted in a blazer, gray slacks and dress shoes, and I sport a genuine-enough smile that's kept fresh every day.

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He lay on the white sheeted bed, relaxed, in his robe, hands behind his head. She knelt at the foot of the bed, legs wide, back straight, hands resting on her thighs, eyes downcast, but stealing peeks at him from beneath her lashes. She was naked, wet, and ready, like she always was for him. And now she was waiting for his permission.

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My name is Kavita and I am a 30 year old married professional woman living in Delhi, India. I work in an MNC and Raj, my husband, is a fairly successful businessman. We have been married for 3 years and you can say we are as happy as an average married couple. We have our ups and downs, good days and bad days, so to the words I am a typical Indian woman taking take of her husband and household. However, the truth is far from that.

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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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"This has been way too easy," I think to myself as I pause to take in the scene before me. My petite young nurse/radiologist is bent over in front of me, stark naked, her upper chest and the side of her head resting on the examination table, her arms at her sides and her little hands spreading her ass cheeks, eagerly waiting for me to impale her tight little anal canal on my rigid nine inch cock.

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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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