Your erotic stories

Jill had been over to the house a number of times in the weeks following the Christmas party, and I had to admit I had enjoyed every visit. She seemed to delight in wearing different sexy outfits for me, some provocative and some downright sexual, like the night she wore knee high black leather boots, a leather bustier and nothing else.

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Halloween is a great time of year. Grown-ups get to play dress up, and more importantly get to wear masks. I don’t know what it is about masks, but inhibitions seem to disappear when the masks go on. Last Halloween, I was invited to a neighbor’s costume party. I could hardly wait, but it was a busy time for me. Party night came, and I hadn’t even thought about a costume.

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On the outside I've never been weird in any way. I'm popular, with girls and guys. I have normal interests. I go to parties, get drunk, have fun, have normal relationships. I could have sex, normal sex, and enjoy it a normal amount. But it is only when I think about rape that I really start to feel that heat like nothing else. A hollow aching inside me, yearning to be filled.

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Chloe was hot. She was young, blonde, intelligent, vivacious and generally popular. And she knew it. Ashley wouldn't go so far as to call her vain, but he did consider her to have a lot of pride. That's was OK. He could work with pride. Pride would make her do things she really shouldn't, just to save face, and that same pride would help her justify her actions afterwards. Basically, it was wait and take the chance when offered.

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Shortly after I turned thirty-nine my mother died suddenly of a coronary thrombosis. Dad had died seven years earlier. So since my brother Kenny, a journalist and my only sibling, was living in London at the time, and my daughter was in her second year of college, I was left alone with the task of going through my mother's things and deciding what should be kept and what should be thrown away.

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Show horses are sports cars. They're fast, smooth, sleek, and attract like kind in owners, trainers, and dealers. As the most popular of these steeds hail from the strong sons and daughters of a Central and South-American breed, most of these trainers, owners, and human accomplices are fine, muscular, dark-skinned Latino men who know how to move, in the saddle, on the dance floor, and even in the sheets.

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My name is Mark and I have a confession. I'm an attractive 35 year old man with a pretty wife and two great little kids. I have a good job, a nice house and what appears from the outside to be a perfectly normal life. But I have a secret...a hot, sexy, naughty, filthy little secret named Lizzy. Lizzy was 19 when this all started (actually she had just turned 20, but that didn't make me feel any better). She was the daughter of Tom, one of my two bosses and a guy that could ruin my life if he ever suspected that I had done anything with his gorgeous daughter.

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The Forbidden Fantasies Resort, owned and operated by Jamir Antoine, is located deep in the mountains outside of Denver Colorado. Jamir, who stands 6 ft 2, is both intimidating and endearing to those who know him. Mocha colored with long flowing locs that hang to the middle of his back upon first glance would not be considered handsome but exudes a sexual charm that is undeniable.

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There were silky red thongs, lacy black bikinis, pearl white strings and soft blue french cuts. There couldn't be a more beautiful collection of lacy panties and bras anywhere. I had just returned to my apartment building from getting my morning coffee and was going upstairs, when my pretty neighbor from across the hall passed me with her laundry. Being the polite guy that I am, I smiled and said "good morning" and she replied "hi" back. As we passed I peeked around my shoulder and got a glimpse of the treasures in her basket.

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Maxwell Anderson Jr., or Max to most of his friends, had waited years to be allowed to attend his parent's annual Mardi Gras party. It was considered by many in their social circles to be the grandest party of the season. Max's mother, Edwina Anderson, was born and raised in New Orleans, and left when she married Maxwell Sr. so he could take a position that ultimately led to his running his own law firm. Edwina, like so many other wives of wealthy and successful husbands, was a 'bored housewife' who did charity work, worked out, and drank too much.

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