Your erotic stories

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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My wife and I went camping at busy campground several years ago. Although the campsite had showers, the flush toilets were out of service and outhouses had been brought in. My wife can not stand to use an outhouse. When she found out, she didn't even want to stay at the campsite, although she loves camping.

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I love getting out of the office at lunchtime. It gives me an opportunity to clear my head, and listen to either Jim Rome or Colin Cowerd on sports talk radio, as I drive to one of the local eateries. Since I'm trying to watch my waist, along with my budget, I usually hit the local Subway at least once a week. It's a fairly popular spot, so there's usually a line, but they do their best to keep it moving along.

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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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The morning sun shining through the window wakes me up. It's Saturday morning, which at this point in my marriage means it's my weekly chance of getting laid. I roll over to see if Rose is going to be interested, and her side of the bed is empty.

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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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We were five satiated, sleek bitches filing into the bathroom, drunk on orgasms and a little weak at the knees. And it was all my doing. See, there's nothing I like as much as arranging little dyke orgies for a gaggle of foxy babes like myself, good-lookers who know how to turn on a slut and make her pussy steam and her clit swell! Here we all were in the bathroom now, five ultra-feminine lipstick lesbians who had just spent the last couple of hours getting each other off with hot lips, wet tongues, eager fingers, and plenty of nasty toys.

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His fingers were in her pussy, tracing patterns on the sensitive and soaked flesh of her inner passages and lazy curly q's on her clitoris. His lips were on hers, roving tongue and all, giving her long kisses that sucked the breath from her. All in all, she was completely lost in the sensations of his lovemaking and would probably have done anything he wanted. Her mind was a mixture of numb to the rest of the world and alive with him. Her heart throbbed and the blood in her veins had turned into a molten river of arousal. Everything was perfect.

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Shane and I had known each other in college for 3 years. We were both tired of our roommates this year. Shane complained about his playing music late into the night while he tried to study. Mine was worried he would miss class so he woke up 3 hours early for his first class which was 3 hours earlier than I had to get up and was a slob.

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Brothers John and Drew had taken a week or so's holiday to go sea fishing on England's south coast, but after a few days being tossed about in the tiny tub they had managed to hire their stomachs demanded a reprieve. So the next day they took a holiday from their holiday.

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