Your erotic stories

I don't know why I did it. Okay, that's a lie, do I know, at least I think I do. First of all, it's fun to be seen as a sex symbol. Not as a porn star, hell no. I'm not a slut. Okay, maybe a wanna-be slut, but I'm a good girl. I didn't go to a Catholic school, but I was raised Catholic and I still believe most of it, okay?

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When Mary approached me about doing a photoshoot with her and Kim, I was surprised. Being my ex, Mary knew I was good at shooting shall we say... glamour shots. When we were together she would sometimes dress up sexy and we would do a photo/video shoot and we often had some of our best sex while looking at the results.

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I boarded the plane at Boston's Logan airport for the long series of flights to Hawaii. My company had won a contract with a container shipping company and they wanted me in Honolulu as soon as possible to conduct an inventory and audit. I packed lightly knowing that I'd be back in only a week. As an amateur photographer, I was delighted that I'd be able to spend a full weekend on the island of Oahu snapping some the world's most majestic mountains plummeting into a gorgeous blue ocean.

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"My name is Nario. You are Mr. Armstead?" "Yes. I was expecting my uncle." "He could not come. I am his boy." Yes, I'll just bet you are, I thought. But then he clarified, if not enough to make a difference to me. "I am his houseboy. Welcome to Naples, Mr. Armstead." "Call me Harry, Please. Is it far from here to Positano?"

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William Devlin made ready the umbrellas, the seating, and even metered the ambient light of the room in preparation for his new client. Ms. Kayden Summers she had requested a series of bust close ups of herself in a long black gown. She had found his little off path studio via referral from a young lady that had sat for a series of graduation photos several years back.

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Using a small brush to apply the last of her deep maroon lipstick, Mai checked her work one last time before leaving the bathroom and preparing to head out for the evening. She went over in her head everything she thought she would need, re-verifying for the third time that she had the keys to her apartment and her emergency money safely tucked away in a hidden pocket of her small party purse. She and her two closest friends were making it a girls' night out and going to a club they had never been to before.

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It was supposed to be a straight forward assignment. Jimmy occasionally did some camera work to help out the local paper when their regular photographer was busy, or to collect background shots for local stories. The editor had told him this one was quite simple. The local gym was on a membership drive and had arranged for him to do a story on them. Jimmy was to wander along that evening to take some snaps of one of the women's fitness sessions.

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Rounding a bend in the unsealed narrow country road, I was disappointed to see that the last few hundred meters were uphill. Weary from our third consecutive day hiking on the southern Turkish coast, I grabbed Jack's hand, trying to get his help pulling me forward. I felt him wrapping his fingers around mine, and upping the pace a little which was assisting me to move.

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In April 2004 my husband announced that his 25 year old secretary was 6 months pregnant and he was leaving me and our two daughters to be with her. Apparently I'd become boring and had put on weight – no longer the slim nymphomaniac that he had married 21 years previously. To say that I was devastated would be somewhat of an understatement. I thought that I'd been as good a mother and wife as I could be while also holding down a career as an accountant with a pretty large clothing company.

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I do a fair amount of traveling and like many guys I have a picture of my wife on my laptop to remind me of her when I'm away from home. It's not the kind of picture, however, that I would use as wallpaper or a screen saver. It's a photo for my own private viewing. In the photo, Anne is reclining on a leather couch wearing a lacy black bra which barely covers her beautiful 34C breasts.

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