Your erotic stories

There must be something inherently lucky about February 29--leap day. That's the day I went to get my hair cut by the gal Carla who's been cutting my hair for over a year. She does an excellent job and has an interesting personality, so I always wait for her. To tell you the truth, I originally selected her because she's good looking.

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When you’ve been around the block enough times, you know that anything is possible when it comes to people’s sex lives. I knew there were men who liked to watch as their wives had sex with another man. And I’m no prude. Anything is OK with me as long as no one gets forced or hurt --- more than they want to be, that is.

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It was the late 70s. I was in college and not old enough to drink legally, but looked old enough so that my ID was rarely checked. I worked as a cook in a steak house and my asshole manager, Newman, stalked into the kitchen after closing time and barked "There is some cunt asking about you in the bar. The only reason I didn't throw her out is because she is spending money. Go get rid of her and get your ass back here to clean up."

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I had been dating Doug, a big, blonde, football player, for about a month. Though he wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, he was handsome and popular, and fun in bed. One evening, close to the end of term, I swung by his apartment to see if he wanted to go and grab something to eat. I was surprised when Doug's roommate, Warren, answered the door. He was hardly ever home.

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"Hey honey... Have you seen this?" My husband asked, showing me an email he had received. I barely glanced at it before answering. "Nope!" "It's from our group. They're having a Halloween party... swinger style!" My hubby informed me. "Really?" I asked with interest. "Hang on, let me see if I got an email from them too." Sure enough, a quick look at my inbox proved that I had gotten an email invite. Hmm... it's been some time since the last group party...

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My wife Liz and I were enjoying our new found freedom. The worries and problems of child rearing, mortgages and financial concerns, were largely in our past. We were living a life more centered on each other. Our vacations were now of our choice, we enjoyed walks together after dinner, we dined at nice restaurants instead of fast food outlets, and our sex life had blossomed.

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I sat down with a heavy sigh of relief as my brother and I dropped the last, huge, brown box in front of our new couch. He heaved out a long winded breath of his own as his wiped his forehead with the back of hand. "Shit, I'm glad we're finally finished moving all of this useless junk..," He irritated mumbled as he smacked a pack of Newports against his palm and pulled one out of the pack, along with a plastic lighter.

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Author's note: To Kait, whose kindness, friendship and intelligence proved inspirational. Part I. New York No, I had never actively sought a call girl before and it wasn't helping that she had to have rather special qualities. She had to be young, experienced, smart, and bisexual; a combination of features which excluded everyone I had stumbled across so far.

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The evening sky was painted vivid colors of crimson, yellow, purple and azure. The sun was just passing over the horizon completely. I was anxious, alright, I was downright scared. What had I agreed to? What was it that made me want to be on the "list" for eight and a half months? As I walked down the crowded avenue, I wondered if anyone could tell what I was about to do.

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"Have you been to the new club?" Pauline whispered her weekend plans to her friend in the next cubicle at work. "I want to go there, so bad, this weekend. I heard it's awesome. Do you want to go?" Here we go thought Amanda listening to the two airheaded young women discussing what and who they did over the weekend and who and what they want to do next weekend.

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