Your erotic stories

Last fall, when I was starting my graduate studies at NYU film school, I found myself sexually frustrated and unhappy with the guys I was meeting. The sex was OK, but nothing really special. I think that's kind of understandable because, after all, we were mostly all in our early 20s and not very experienced. Plus, if I was to be really honest, the guys I met (and I include myself here) were kind of immature and unworldly. We barely knew who we were, let alone capable of thoughtful, meaningful and satisfying sexual relationships.

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My boss Justin wasn't a beautiful man. He was short with a badly trimmed moustache, a thatch of white hair, huge sweet patched under his armpits & rather a large beer belly. But he was my boss so I treated him with a certain amount of respect. After a few too many glasses of champagne at the Christmas party I'd let it slip that before I'd married my wife I had in fact had a boyfriend.

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The first time I met Mr. Steinberg, I was totally impressed with the way he carried himself. He looked pretty old to me, maybe in his 70's, maybe even older, but I could tell from the way he dressed and spoke and especially with his young physique, that he exuded confidence and self assurance. I don't think he was a body builder by any means, but dressed in casual attire, he stood straight and proud and when he moved around, his agility belied his age, however old he really was. 

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I believe I left you as I was slipping into a hot bath, all bubbly. There were some surprises that I couldn't have seen coming this Christmas. To say that I was about to be taught a few lessons in the art of lovemaking and the power of a man, well, read on. The bath was perfect, it felt so soothing. I opened my eyes and saw the vapor floating up from the tub into the cooler aire. The water had an orange, spicy scent to it and it was soft against my skin.

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Liz pulled into the parking lot of the Angel Motel as she had on many occasions. Her job in the last year had been taking her further and further a field, bringing with it the difficulties of travel. She had tried different transport options in that time and now she regularly made the eight hundred mile journey back home by car; having lost faith with the airlines for a number of reasons. This had its advantages and disadvantages.

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It all started when my very dear friend Murthy had a stroke. But, let me start at the very beginning. I am Sekhar, a sixty year old successful professional consultant. Murthy, twelve years my senior and a long retired professor has been my dear friend of over forty years. I and my wife Sumana (58) live in our own comfortable three bed room apartment in a posh area of our city, our only daughter, married, lives in U.S.A along with her husband and son. Murthy is a widower having lost his dear wife about seven years ago.

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Given the choice between a young, hot, ravenous stud and an older gentleman, simmering in passionate wisdom and experience, my preference will always be without a single doubt the old man. I often wonder if men realize that while a woman is walking down a street being appreciated for her eye catching silhouette, offering them a break in the usual nothing to get excited about scenery, that she may be doing a little appreciating of her own.

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Sharon had Harry on her mind all the rest of the month after she had first had sex with him, she couldn't believe what it had felt like, the sheer size of his cock made it more intense then anything she'd had before. Just thinking about it made her wet, she could feel a tingle in her pussy as she went back to that day. It had been 3 weeks since Harry had first had her and even now she was playing it out in her mind.

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