Your erotic stories

I'm a 32-year old male, happily married, with a very satisfying sex life. When my wife and I are in bed together, we entertain each other with stories—fantasies and otherwise—about sexual escapades. We consider sharing fantasies to be nothing more than foreplay even though some of our ideas get pretty wild. I get turned on imagining watching her getting thoroughly screwed by someone and my description of such an affair turns her on, too.

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Hot morning sun blistering one side of my cheek, along with the sound of a shrieking bird outside my window as I lay on my bed woke me up. I scrambled to the floor, forgetting for the moment, in my sleepy state, that it was Sunday and I didn't have to go to work. Looking at the clock on the bedside table I saw that it was eight thirty. I felt like going back to bed but habit got the better of me. Growing up, I had heard my late dad on numerous occasions speak on the virtues of early rising, claiming that persons who liked to sleep late got nowhere in life. I usually got up at around 5:45 to 6:00 am to start preparing for work.

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"I've been cheating on you." My body froze as the simple sentence left her lips. I tried to speak but my mind remained completely blank as I struggled to find the words to respond to my girlfriend's confession. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. A variety of emotions teemed forth, battling one another for supremacy within the maelstrom of my thoughts.

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I walked into the hotel café , as usually late, as usually slightly flustered from all the things that I managed to not do to get here in time, but also with a sense of more serious trepidation mixed with excitement gnawing at my throat. Not every day after all one meets a person with whom one shared the wildest of sexual fantasies.

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"Depressed? Damn straight I'm depressed. Waking up to find your, 'man,' the same guy you'd being screwing all evening, getting butt fucked by some dude can do that to you. Hell, I'd have to be crazy not to depressed." Sue Cangilosi finished her tirade by draining her fifth "Harvey Wallbanger" and then gave Cindy Davis a sad smile. "So what makes you think I'm depressed?"

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My hands were trembling as I sipped on my chocolate martini. I was fidgeting with the rim of the glass, running my finger around the lip of the martini glass. I kept glancing down at my watch, anxiously waiting for him to arrive. The surprise I had for him was becoming more than I could handle, as I was itching to have my fun.

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PRELUDE It was 3:00 PM Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving and the office was empty except for Cathleen and me. The office had closed at 2:00 PM and although I had agreed to join some of my colleagues for a drink after work, I had business to take care first. Cathleen, my admin assistant, was sitting on my lap riding my cock a position that she loved.

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My friend Jeannie and I have a thing. We shop together, try on clothing, and fool around in the dressing room. We have always liked it when people watch us kiss and touch under tables and such, but since we found one particular clothing store, we can't stop going there. It is a small shop that sells the sort of dresses we like, and the same saleswoman is always there. She watches us.

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Like any other good day, today started out with my wonderful Dom tying me up. Nothing puts me in a better mood than feeling the touch of rope on my skin -- the only thing that centers me more is feeling his hand in my hair as I kneel in front of him.

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I first noticed her on a grey November's day at the supermarket. As she loaded shopping into her car a huge bag of green apples fell from one of the carriers, hit the ground, split and fruit rolled everywhere; she must have been very fond of apples. Much of it tumbled, erratically in my direction, I scurried about gathering up the tumbling orbs and restored them to their somewhat flustered owner. I would never have looked at her twice, she could have been my mum but then she smiled and her face lit-up, rolling back the years in a trice.

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