Your erotic stories

John got up from the couch and headed down to the apartment complex laundry room. He wished that they would get washing machines and dryers right in the apartments like management had promised but he had to do what he had to do. John was in his first year of college and his folks had helped him get this off campus place. He was an accounting major of all things and a bit of a recluse. He wasn't bad looking. John was 6' about 180 and had a lean athletic build. For all of that he was still a bit shy with the ladies though.

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Late one afternoon a few summers ago, and just before dusk, the door bell rang. I must tell you that I was a pretty miffed at the time. My wife, Betty, was away visiting her sister in Boston -- we're both retired -- and I had the house all to myself. I was enjoying some really hot porn on my computer, which I usually have to sneak around to watch when Betty is home since she finds the stuff disgusting. So, the interruption was not welcome.

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Another long day at work is at an end. It has been a week of non stop demands at work and I am ready for some relaxation. Tossing my clothes as I head for the bathroom, leaving a trail of laundry to be picked up later, I stop to stare at my reflection in the mirror. Unable to resist, I pinch my nipples to hard peaks, moaning softly in the quiet of the house. Bending to put the plug in the tub, then start a nice hot bath, spilling some bubble bath in, inhaling the scent of wild strawberries.

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She strides purposefully down the hall. She has little time to work with today. She doesn't have time to play games. She needs him to fuck her hard. She needs him to make her cum. She knocks on his door, waits a beat, and he is there. Without a word he pulls her into the room, presses her against the wall and covers her mouth with his. His cock is already hard against her thigh.

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My wife and I and our best friends had reached that stage in life where the kids were on there own and we had some extra money to enjoy ourselves. Sheila and her husband Sam and my wife Jan and I had been close friends since our kids were babies, and had spent family summer vacations with them for years. Now that the kids were gone we decided to take a 7 day Caribbean cruise the first week of January. Sam and I also are very big pro football fans and cheer for the same team.

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I don't think I will ever forget that weekend I spent at Meg's. It was the beginning of summer, and I had a couple of days to kill in the city before flying back home. Meg had decided to stay and work for the duration of the summer at the museum, and so she'd rented this small one bedroom apartment downtown. It was the coziest little place you ever saw, and we both had a grand old time decorating it;

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Nicole and I used to wait tables together when we were in college and we did a good job of remaining friends thereafter. We'd go out once a month or so with her crazy girlfriends to a karaoke night downtown. She was a party girl in college and she showed no signs of slowing down in her thirties.

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Kayla had had a hard day. Her boss was giving her a hard time; her ex-boyfriend was doing the same. All she wanted to do was to have people just leave her alone. After she got home, all she wanted to do was to get drunk & forget about her day. She had a few too many beers & went to bed with a spinning head. Sometime during the night, she heard a sound that wasn't one of the usual nighttime sounds that she was familiar with.

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I made my way down the ramp at the gate, trying to locate the baggage claim area, while also glancing into the faces welcoming the flight to the great State of Wisconsin. If only Seth carried a sign that read "JANIE" maybe finding him would be easier.

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I have always loved women. There is just something delightful about femininity and female-ness that has always resonated with me. Even as a child, I found it easier to make friends with girls than with boys. Oh, sure, I played on the sports teams, and engaged in the same kind of rough-and-tumble as the other boys, but females seemed to draw something deeper out of me, something thoughtful, and deeper than just scoring touchdowns, or hitting home runs.

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