Your erotic stories

Several years ago I was a COP, a policeman in a city of about 250,000 in North Carolina. The DWI Checkpoints and enforcement had just started to gain popularity. One part of that program was to assign officers to work the streets on DWI Patrol, rather than checkpoints. We were assigned to different sections of the city or to watch a particular bar or nightclub.

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My sister Kathleen is a real bitch. I don't know where she got the idea that she is the center of the universe, but she acts like anything she does is the most important thing going on. Everyone has to do what she wants, and she gets all huffy when they don't.

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Lisbeth was bored. She idly went through the motions of straightening the shelves of the upscale boutique where she worked on this dreary Thursday morning. Lisbeth was twenty-four and she married less than two years ago, having come from her native Denmark as an au pair originally. The Georgetown lawyer to whom she was married treated her as a trophy wife, insisting that she escort him to his many social events, but once they got home, the middle-aged partner became icily cold to Lisbeth, precluding any carnal activities.

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DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the result of my imagination or are used within a fictitious context. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, places, or incidents is entirely coincidental.

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"OOOHHHH FUCK I'm CUUUUMMMMMING!" He groaned as she continued to bob up and down on his cock. Her hand was wrapped tightly around him and she was stroking it vigorously as she sucked. I had the video camera filming the event; she squinted slightly as his load of cum shot into her mouth and throat.

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The kayak bobbed up and down on the lake as Rhonda adjusted her life jacket, "I don't know why I have to wear this, I'm pretty buoyant." "Yea, I'd say you have a set of PF double D's" Lynn replied with a laugh. Watching her friend struggle to get her large breasts tucked into the life vest was almost comical. It was a problem she did not have.

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Since my husband passed away a few years ago I haven't been in a significant relationship. It didn't find any joy in going through the process of finding a man, figuring out if I liked him, and if he liked me, and then determining what we both wanted from each other. My marriage with my husband had been fantastic. We got along well and raised two wonderful children. We had a great, although not wild, sex life. We were both very passionate, but not compulsive.

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Ramsay closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and unzipped her jacket. Her mother would have never let her leave the apartment had she seen how her daughter was dressed. The snug, low-cut camisole didn't quite conceal her lacy black bra; the hem of her plaid skirt fell several inches above her knees. Her black patent stilettos were decidedly of the "fuck me" variety. Ramsay peered down at her ample cleavage, watched it rise and fall as she struggled to catch her breath.

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Art had completed his training as a masseuse and he was now working part time at a salon near the college. He was in his junior year at the university and he was doing very well in school with a cumulative 3.6 GPA. Art would graduate in a year with a degree in business and he hoped to be accepted to graduate school. Art was an impressive young man of 21 years and he had dated many girls in college.

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One Friday morning, mid-November, I was surprised to receive a call from Ben. With his new job in the City, I never usually heard from him during the day, and rarely saw him except at the weekends. "Hi Ali," he said, sounding very anxious. "Are you free to talk?" I looked around, intrigued, a little worried, but there was no one in earshot. "Yes. What's up?"

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