Your erotic stories

The familiar tingling began almost instantly after Henry slid his hard cock inside his new bride. Anne's wet hole engulfed him in welcoming heat as the length slid in slowly. Kissing softly on her left shoulder, he eased his body down using his knees and forearms for support. "Ohhh," responded his sexy wife. "Mmm, oh my god." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her body alive after a lengthy prelude from Henry's talented tongue.

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I'd seen her around my apartment building several times and she stuck in my mind although I could never quite figure out why. She was an older woman – in her 50s I guessed – with long dark-hair, hints of gray here and there in her curls, and a little plump -- sexy plump, actually. You could see she was very nice looking at one time.

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Annabelle's cotton sheets have ducks on them. They're not made of as nice of a material as the satin I'm laying on now, but the ducks are so cute and so her. I can imagine Annabelle's face when she'd determined that I stood her up on New Year's Eve. I feel so horrible and so cold.

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I'd love to say that it started out innocently enough, but there really wasn't anything innocent about it. I had been working as a software trainer for a small computer consulting company in Georgia, and my job was to train the clients on the computer systems that we sold them. One of those clients was a group of people from an industrial machinery company. Among the people in this group was a secretary who was undeniably cute.

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When I started driving some years ago, I recall my dad's repeated warnings about keeping plenty of gas in my car. Well, as this 19-year-old sat on the gravel shoulder of a rather desolate foothill highway after running out of gas, the last thing I wanted to think about was my dad being right, as usual. It didn't seem that I would have to worry about anybody coming along this road at 1 a.m., so I figured I might as well bunk in my car until daylight.

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My heart seems to falter when she walks in the bar. I vaguely hear my friend Samantha, who reluctantly dragged me out tonight, yell at me from a few feet away. I don't make any movement though. I am staring at what, until this moment, was only a dream. My friend finally fights her way over to me, muttering something about me being deaf and all I do is nod forward.

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Rachel took one last look at herself in the mirror as she finished getting ready to leave. She and her friends, Molly and Jennifer, were going to the local Renaissance Festival today and Rachel was determined to look her best. It was the first time she was going without her parents and she was determined to flirt and play to her hearts content. She loved how the people who worked the fairs were able to make almost any comment suggestive.

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Ryan's story. ------- Jay was a guy I knew from the neighborhood bar I went to in Manhattan. Not a close friend, just someone I saw in there from time to time. A few years older than my close circle. We played pool together and watched a ballgame or two. On TV and even up at the stadium a couple of times.

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Spots of dappled sunlight streamed through the trees and danced and twirled on the pavement as I waited for her outside the building. She was always late, frantically trying to keep up with her life. Not that I would ever want her life, I snorted to myself. Immediately regretting the thought, I focussed on the distant rush of traffic echoing softly through what had to be the last quiet street in Brisbane's central business district.

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I'm 44 now and the following scenario has been going on for the best part of a year. I have a lover, who at 24 is not only much younger but the best thing I have ever ended up in bed with. Every weekend and the odd week night is spent in the kind of sexual bliss a woman only dreams about. My name is Pat; I have dark hair hanging in ringlets past my neck and a good body for my age, a legacy of having a super pair of cycling legs. I used to work with him and on the Xmas night out he drunkenly offered to go down on me. I was surprised and flattered.

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