Your erotic stories

Omar and Barry were my neighbors in DC before they moved to California 10 years back. They lived in my building complex and we hit it off immediately after meeting at a mutual friend's dinner party. Barry and I quickly connected over our love of team sports. At nearly 6ft, he was a big man but surprisingly agile on the field. He joined my soccer team.

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Recap: At 49, and widowed, I had been seeing a lady called Pat for some time, and was on the verge of sleeping with her for the first time. She had discussed my 'size' with both her daughters, one of whom I work with, and they had each decided (separately) to "Test Drive" me so their mother wouldn't be hurt. Or so they said. The night after these events was my first with Pat, and it went extremely well until......

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Anna looked up at Ben's face, he had a dreamy look in his eyes watching carefully as she enjoyed running her lips up his taut, velvety penis, reaching the tip and allowing her tongue to revel in the pre-cum she found there. Her lips then surrounded his shaft and she sucked the member into her aching throat. She felt Ben twitch, his hips leaving the blanket for a moment and a groan emanating from his throat.

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As a happily married male in his mid-40s I had never contemplated or even considered any type of relationship with another male. In fact, I had little or no time for such activities and was always very critical of such goings on between men – yeh!

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"They are real!" Harry said emphatically, glaring at the drunken brothers sitting across the bar from him. Billy had fallen off his stool, assisted by the wildly flailing arms of his larger brother; but Billy usually did anyway; and Bob, trying to keep from falling was holding tightly to the bar, tears in his eyes, howling with laughter.

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When I was 18 my family lived in the English Midlands. My parents both worked for a pharmaceutical firm and they were working at its English subsidiary. We lived in a small village about 20 miles outside of Birmingham. Because both my parents worked they could afford to send me to a public school—which in England means a private school. The school was in the city, and I would ride in with parents every morning and ride back home again every evening.

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Betty awakened to the sound of water running in her bathroom. It took her a moment to remember that she hadn't fallen asleep alone. Bill had come to see her that morning. She was laying on her side, facing away from the bathroom door. Looking out the window, she could see, across the Intracoastal Waterway, the cement tile roofs of Ft. Lauderdale as it stretched all the way to the Everglades.

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I love my life. I don't know if this happens to other people but I have a recurring theme in my life where past experiences come back, not to haunt me, but to enrich my life even further. My life is not without pain and tragedy, to be sure, but I think I am blessed with good fortune nonetheless. This story is an unexpected continuation of another tale of mine, "A Night at Karen's House," and I suggest you read the original first.

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Attorney at Law, K. Anderson never smiled. In fact, she never showed much emotion at all. Stoic. Poker face. She was rumored to be cold hearted and vicious. Whether she actually was or not, ultimately was irrelevant. She was one of the most powerful attorneys this side of the Mississippi river, a senior partner in one of the most influential law firms in the country, Benter, Johnson, Anderson and Holgate. She had everything money could buy, though she never struck him as the flashy type.

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Karen March 2001 I first encountered Miss Chapman at school. She was the home economics teacher and a guidance teacher too. Teachers tended to view me as a generally intelligent pupil who inexplicably did stupid things to get in trouble occasionally. One such occasion when I was in my second last year resulted in me waiting to be called into Ms Chapman's office for trying to play truant that afternoon.

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