Your erotic stories

"Freefall," Rebecca Quinn thought to herself as the elevator lowered her and her Husband down to the lobby of her office building so they could go have lunch together. "Freefall...That's just what my life feels like right now," she had to stifle a perverse chuckle at the irony of the comparison between the elevator and her place in life. Rebecca had been married to Neal Quinn for almost 22 years. The first dozen or so had been decent, but there was no mistake the two had drifted apart for the last decade and Rebecca had been having an affair on and off with a man from her office building for past year.

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Unlike a lot of stories in this site that I'm sure are total fiction, this one is mostly true. The names and parts of the story have been fictionalized. I've been a trucker for 20 years now and recently had a sexual experience I'd like to share. Long distance trucking is a solitary life and there isn't much sex when the little lady is thousands of miles away back home.

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Cook Forest State Park is miles away from anything Philly has to offer and Andrew could feel himself relaxing as the truck surged deeper into the forest. When was the last time he'd taken an actual vacation? He couldn't remember, but he was bound and determined to make the best of the four-day weekend ahead. No phone calls at all hours of the day and night, no internet, no email, no contact with the outside world...just peace and much needed quiet.

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"You want some help with those, Jane?" Jane looked up from the sink full of suds to where I was standing in the doorway to the front hall. The plate she had just finished scrubbing slipped back into the water as she released it to dry her hands on the apron and motion me over for a hug. "You cooked, I clean," she said after giving me a quick squeeze and a tender kiss, "Isn't that our usual deal?"

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It was time for my annual physical, and like always, I had waited until the last minute. I was afraid this would happen, "I'm sorry, Mr. Mann, but your doctor doesn't have any appointments for physicals available until February. I can try and set you up with someone else if you don't want to wait that long."

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The first best word to describe me by is ordinary. The second best word to use is horny as it is possible for a 25 year old young man to be. Add in slender, heavy glasses, insecure, and an almost complete lack of any line of rap? Well, you get the picture. The problem with that combination is that to hook up with a female, I have to work harder at it than some of my buds.

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In all the fantasies in my mind, I'm a thin, svelte, beautiful woman. In real life I'm a plump, voluptuous, attractive woman. I have curves like a real woman, not angles like Barbie. The man I'm looking for doesn't have to be a Ken. (Actually, I don't want a Ken, because I want a man with working parts.) I'm not adverse to finding a good looking man. I like a sculpted chest, and I love a nicely formed ass, one that fits well into my hands. Those usually are my standards, I have been known to take a chance on a man who doesn't meet those rules.

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Sarah was nervous as she stepped out of her car and headed for the doors that would take her back to work for the first time since the New Years party where she had recently lost her virginity. The whole night was still a blur... a legacy of spiked fruit punch and a night of intense fucking that she had neither expected nor wanted, but during which she distinctly remembered having orgasming over and over while begging the men who had taken her to "fuck" her and "cum inside" her.

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A torrent was falling straight down in lazy sheets. It was the heart of rainy season, and Mother Nature showed truth in advertising. I would have just stopped right there on the trail to wait it out had it not been for the fact that it would have resulted in being stuck on an unmapped "road" -to use that term loosely- after sundown. Driving in the dark through the jungle was a good way to get stuck in the mud or, worse still, a flash flood.

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It had been 15 years since her Harold had passed away, and Marge had gotten used to being alone. Of course, she had lady friends, and some male acquaintances, but at 66 years old, she had removed sex from her life, except the occasional fantasy about Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise. Harold had been the only man, except for a brief fling with his Best Man right after he passed. She chalked that up to grieving, and they had found comfort in each other, although he felt so guilty afterwards that they stopped it after 2 dates.

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