Your erotic stories

The way a woman smells is more of a turn on than almost anything else. Of course I do love the way women look and have a preference for those with a fuller figure and a great smile but if that womanly scent is masked with strong perfume and layers of product it just turns me off.

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I'm Betty. I'm twenty-seven years old, a college graduate, a paralegal by trade, and a would-be artist and recently divorced. That's about as much of my personal history that you need to know for the purposes of this story. As to what I look like, I'm five feet six; I have dirty blond hair and brown eyes. I have a decent figure. I'm not huge breasted or beautiful, although most do tell me I am attractive, at least they say that if they want to fuck me.

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I love dirty talk. It is a super aphrodisiac for me. When a man whispers nasty things in my ear I get all hot and bothered. He can take me from a standing start to full speed in nothing flat, leaving a streak of metaphorical rubber smoking on the metaphorical pavement.

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I'm a modern dance instructor, and a few weeks ago a couple showed up at my modern dance class. They were the absolute picture of ski slopes fitness, the sorts who set the pace at resorts such as Aspen and Vail. I soon learned that they were both in fact competitive skiers and were taking my advanced dance class as part of their regimen to get in shape for the rigors of the upcoming winter ski season.

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Goodness knows why I have this fetish, but I do have it, so I have to live with it. What is it? Well it's the desire to eat shit. It must be from a dominant female mistress and maybe it's more to do with being totally submissive than it is to do with the actual eating. I think this desire has been with me for a very long time and now I would like to tell you, how I turned desire into reality. I thought it wasn't possible to realise my desire until whilst browsing through a contact magazine I saw a mistress advertising Hard Sports.

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Ever since that night when my wife gave me head while she sat on the toilet taking a leak, the mere sound of her peeing starts a stirring in my cock. When she gets up in the middle of the night for a late night whiz, her stirring often wakes me a little. As I lay there in the stillness, I can hear her pad across the room to the bathroom, and I know in a matter of seconds I will hear those intoxicating chimes as her bladder releases and a stream of her hot urine sprays into the toilet bowl.

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We both got up and headed for the bathroom at the same. I urgently needed a piss, I guess Claire did too. We had both drunk quite a bit last night, a bottle of wine had gone down easily. She always drank more when she was feeling horny. We'd had good sex too, I seem to remember her rolling over and offering me her arse in a wanton act of lewdness.

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He is lying in her arm, she touches his face, her gentle voice is sending shivers down his spine, just like all the times. She is playing with his nipples again, they are already hurting a bit. She is talking to him with her calm voice. He had to masturbate in front of her and had to stop just before cumming. Cumming was strictly forbidden. Just using his full strength he was able to do so. She knew more about his body than he did himself. When there were only two or three moves left until his explosion he heard her gentle order: "Stop!"

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There were three of us sitting in the bar that night. I was thinking of getting up and going home, even though it was still pretty early, but before I could speak to make my excuses, Romeo, who had been brooding all evening, abruptly spoke up.

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I woke up when some fluid hit my face, then I smelt it. It was piss. Where the hell was I? Then two parts of darkness parted and I saw a face looking at me. "Bonjour bonjour. En plein de vos la bouche je vous en prie." So I opened my mouth and the piss squirted in. I just had to gulp it down. It tasted salty, I had forgotten the taste.

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