Your erotic stories

My name is Angeline Currie. You won't find that name in any history of Hollywood. In all the movies in which I starred from the '40s to the '60s, and the character roles I played in movies and on TV in the twilight of my career, I was billed quite differently. Not even my agent knew my real name but, trust me, if you heard my professional name you'd certainly know it.

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The car drove along the tree-lined lane to a house overlooking a lake. It was a large house with several levels of decks at the rear. "It's a beautiful house, Tiff," Ashley said, taking in the beautiful flowers that were expertly laid out in the lavish gardens. "Yes, it is. Mike is a very successful lawyer here. He has been my client for about two years now," Tiffany, the taller blonde answered.

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My wife Teri never ceases to turn me on. All I have to do is look at her and I get an instant woody, especially when she's in her nightshirt. I have always been a tit man. Teri's D cups are not only the beautiful work of Mother Nature, but are also of porn star quality, so naturally she had me at "Hello." And her large nipples are "ON" all the time. Due to her conservative sexuality, she wears padded bras every day in order to contain them.

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Guys are normally so predictable. Flirt with them, joke with them, be interested in "their" sport, and all of a sudden a girl can have them groveling at her feet. Give them a glimpse of leg and they will actually slobber. At least the majority of guys are that way. Occasionally there are the mutants. They are hooked to a specific girl and won't tell you the time of day. They might be totally devoted to work. They might like guys. Whatever.

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My wife Kate walked into the house first, naked. Lori, our good friend and down the street neighbor, followed closely behind. She was also naked and chuckled quietly as we climbed the stairs from the back deck to the house. I followed those two gorgeous derrieres into the cool kitchen. This had already been quite the afternoon. We had all been laying out in the back yard, getting some early spring sun on ourselves. We were all a bit pink. Some were stickier than others.

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Mel was thumbing idly through the channels in search of something worth watching when his wife April turned her Kindle over and switched it off. "Honey," she began, "I've been thinking." Melvin smiled benignly and hit the power button 'off'. "Now April," he drawled, "you know how dangerous that can be. Be careful, hon." April stuck out her tongue naughtily. "Ha, ha, funny man. But really I have been. I've been thinking we need a girlfriend."

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Sinking into the leather seat in business class, I stretch my legs and think about old friendships as I wing my way to Seattle. Certainly one of my favorite cities, I enjoy several business trips to Seattle each year. Beginning to relax, I don my headset and look to my iPod to decide on a podcast to settle into for the remainder of the trip. My thoughts shift to Isabelle, a good friend from high school then college, and the times we shared. Though never truly a romantic relationship, we had a very close friendship that produced palpable sexual tension at times.

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"You don't think I'm a slut now, do you?" She asked, looking up from the picture. With her bright green hair and the sour-apple sucker in her mouth, she looked like a character from a bad anime. I couldn't help but wonder why she had shown me the pictures. Was there....? She nudged me with her hip and brought me out of my musing. "Well, do you?" She asked. "No....no honey. I don't think you are a slut." I said, shocking myself at how smooth and even my voice was.

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"Do you want another drink?" "No thanks man," I answered with a dismissive wave of my hand. "I think I'm done for the night." "Oh come on!" Ryan goaded. "Don't be a pussy!" I just laughed and shook my head at my friend's persistence. "Fine," I responded in resolution. "But only if Kate has one too." Ryan cocked his head in the direction of his girlfriend who was seated on the couch beside me, her legs pulled up under her body. His expression revealed his desire for all three of us to continue our night of drinking.

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"Come in please, Carol." It was Carol's supervisor, David Jenkins who was speaking. He was sitting at his desk and didn't look up at her as she stood hesitantly in the doorway to his office. He continued to look at his computer screen which Carol couldn't see from where she was standing.

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