Your erotic stories

Hannah finished packing her things. The divorce was nearly finalized. The split was mutual, with no hard feelings. The 36 year old corporate executive closed the last box and stood in the bedroom she had shared with her soon-to-be ex husband. It was a sad ending to her fairytale life. One by one she carried the boxes away to her car. It wasn't as painful as she expected. She just didn't find the right person.

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I'm close to the end of my life now, and as you reach your twilight years mostly all you have left is memories. Especially since I lost my wife of more than 50 years, Katie, I spend most of my time looking back.: my youth in Nebraska; my brief spell as a college football star; the first time I ever saw Katie, and fell in love with her; and, of course, the War.

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It was a sultry July day as I stepped out of the taxi; Ali would have loved it. As I walked into the synagogue, however, I reflected how much she would have hated that. Ali despised all religion – I wanted to give her a humanist funeral, but whereas her family had totally rejected her in life, in death they had reclaimed her, doing their best to freeze me out entirely.

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When the phone stopped ringing I heard a soft feminine voice at the other end. "P.S.L. May I help you?" "I think you can." I said, "I need to hire a female model for a two hour assignment." "Yes, Sir." She connected me to another young sounding woman who asked lots of questions about the assignment and the look I was after.

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Chapter 1 I suppose the title of my story could be, "I Married a Bisexual," but while that's true, there's more to the story than just that. Yes, my wife, Robin, is a bisexual. She's had sex with males and females, well, female, singular, and that would be her oldest friend, Renee. And, she's done so consensually and with complete enjoyment.

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PRELUDE Bev Collins was looking out her bedroom window down at the swimming pool in her back yard. Her focus was on the two young men working on her pool. They both were just wearing cut off shorts and their muscular tanned bodies glistened in the sun. Bev thought about all the things she would like those young men to do to her and it stirred her emotions.

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You walk in my house after work, I motion for you to sit on my soft leather couch and move the ottoman out of my way. I walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water for me and of course whatever you want to drink. Coming back into the living room I hand you your drink and set mine down near your feet.

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As my orgasm subsided, my girlfriend Annie held her mouth completely still around my cock, waiting until patiently until my cock stopped twitching, before gulping her mouthful of semen down. After a few moments, she took my cock out of her mouth, exaggerating the audible "pop" sound for effect, and said, "Ahhhhh.," as she crawled up next to me in bed to snuggle.

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His story: She came highly recommended. A friend of a friend sort of referral. He checked out some of her photography online and was impressed by her work. She had a good eye. He needed some head shots for auditions and print work. He had gotten into acting late by most standards, but it came easily to him and he found his looks, charm and likeability were already opening doors for him.

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I always knew of the man who lived in the house at the end of the dead end street as the Creeper. His real name was Mr. Manson, and I thought that his first name was Barry or Barney or something like that. The word around the school was that he liked boys, and from the time I was in elementary school, to the time I was a senior in high school, I was warned by other kids to stay away from his house.

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