Your erotic stories

I lay on the bed, naked, spread, bound at three corners. Only my right arm is free, holding in a numb hand my vibrator, waiting. Finally you come to me, and sitting down, your weight dips the bed, creating a well of gravity that I can feel, pulling my helpless body towards you.

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The first time I ever performed analingus, I was already past my teens and unbelievably horny and eager to do it. The few girls I had been with before were all fairly young and inexperienced, eager to go down on me right away, then jump on top before I could even move. Don't get me wrong, I like a good blowjob from time to time, but I much prefer going down on women, and I get off from giving them pleasure. Most girls, in my admittedly limited experience at that point, enjoyed receiving cunnilingus from me, but it never felt right to push things further and get a little more kinky.

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Cole sat nervously in the waiting area. He'd arrived for his interview the customary ten minutes in advance. He'd waited patiently for the expected fifteen minutes. Which had turned to thirty, which had turned to forty five minutes. "I'm sorry Sir." the receptionist said. She was a pretty blond in a tight skirt and heels which accentuated her legs. "I'm sure it won't be too much longer."

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Yaz knew that she needed a change; being a personal trainer was boring at least on the open road she would be free from the dumb bitches that frequented the gym; sure they wanted all the help they could get, but for what price, she wasn't willing to train them for favours and gifts any longer. "Yaz please reconsider? The place won't be the same without you." begged Jude the gym manager.

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Must Love Dogs -- that's what the ad had said, and I do love dogs. But I had no idea that those three words would unlock the door to the strangest sexual adventure of my life. At the time, the sentence that had really caught my eye was the next one: "Only women need apply." I was no equal rights lawyer, but I was pretty sure employers couldn't discriminate based on sex.

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It was the Friday afternoon, before the Holiday Weekend, and I was driving the car to the ‘Biker Rally’ and ‘Rock Festival’, when I realised that I had a ‘slow puncture’. My husband, Craig, had set off earlier, on his new Honda 750. My mobile phone couldn’t receive a signal, so all I could do was sit by the side of the road; smoke a cigarette and wait for help.

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She first saw him working outside. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but it appeared he was checking some wires that connected to the back of the house. From a distance, she could see he wore a uniform of standard-issue work pants and a clean, collared shirt. His back was turned to her, giving her a nice view, and when he leaned down she scolded herself for letting her eyes travel downward. Brushing aside her wanton thoughts as the distractions to which she had only recently grown accustomed, she decided to ask him what he was doing, since it was her house he was kneeling behind.

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For three years since my wife died, I've tried to put a new life together in the more modern day-to-day world around me. My grown kids come to me for money and hint that they want their inheritance early. The women that I pick to date are either pushy or nuts. I don't understand what our leaders are doing to our economy and I am starting to drink and eat too much - time for me to regroup, decide to live alone and work. I'm good at work. I write for a successful living, can build houses and I am a good gardener.

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It was my girlfriend, Emma's birthday. She'd hit twenty a few months before I did, and her folks had let her invite as many people as she wanted. I'm sure the unspoken terms of the agreement included not inviting me. They'd looked none too impressed when I'd shown up, glowering at myself and their daughter in turn before they headed off to hide in some distant wing of their giant house.

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Kari Bates is an attractive 36-year-old mother of two. She's no supermodel, but she has the look of that good looking school teacher that most boys had a crush on during their school years. She stands 5'6" with a slender 34-B-24-24 body. Brown hair, parted in the middle and hanging almost to her shoulders. Bright blue eyes hidden behind her thin rectangular framed glasses and an ever-present smile.

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