Your erotic stories

I told myself I'd never do it again. It's too dangerous, I'd said to myself. There are better, safer ways of getting off. Still, there I was, cruising up and down the street in the seedier part of town, looking for the adult video store, going back to the glory hole. I hadn't been there in a while. I define myself as a straight man, and I've never actually been in bed with a man.

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The lecture was boring. Even Natalie was bored, and she was delivering it. She looked at the ten faces in front of her, sagging with indifference and incomprehension. Is this what her life had come to? Trying to teach maths to engineering students at a provincial university. What had happened to the bright ambitious graduate she had once been? Here she was, almost 40, still in the same job she had had for the last 17 years, still single, unloved, unlovely, frustrated and bored to death. Is this all that life had to offer her?

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The weekend after my first trip to the preview booth was really boring. I went to go see a movie with a friend that Saturday night, but all I could think about was going back to the adult bookstore. I went home after the movie and played with my new toy, but it didn't compare to the real thing. I wanted more. Even after I came from my toy, my pussy was still throbbing wanting a real man inside of her.

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I picked at the edge of the cardboard beer mat in frustration. She said she'd be here at seven. I checked my wristwatch. Eight pm! "Take a goddamned hint, Valentine!" I pushed away from the bar, snatched my jacket off the stool and abruptly shrugged into it. Somehow, somewhere, my wires got badly crossed...my instincts let me down. It wasn't like me.

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From my late teens (my first discovery of porn beyond my dad's stash of Playboy magazines), I found myself more and more fascinated by watching blow jobs There was just something I liked about watching a big, hard cock sliding in and out of a mouth. The porn of those days often involved women like Desiree Cousteau and Seka and the like, and I also just love a great face and a firm set of boobs, but watching those lovely faces involved with those cocks was something special. There's something more personal about a face than there is about a pussy, however cute.

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It's a crowded elevator, in one of those interminably tall city buildings, and you, of course, work very near the top floor. You're being squished between crowds of people. A wonderful start to the day, you think. Suddenly, you feel it. There, again! Definitely more than just accidental contact. A pair of hands is stroking your ass through your skirt. You'd normally be offended, but the contact feels so good, strong, yet tender.

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The heading at the top of the screen simply reads: "What is your ultimate fantasy?" I don't know how I found this website but I have been staring at the screen for the past ten minutes too afraid to start filling out the survey. On the home page it states that once you fill in all of the blanks the company will write a personalized story based on what you have described as your ultimate fantasy.

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Shrugging into the jacket of his tuxedo, Jacob smiled hearing the chatter of the crowd that had rapidly gathered in the parking lot below him in anticipation of the doors of the club opening. Earlier while making his rounds seeing that everything was ready he shook his head glancing outside seeing the wealth of jewelry that flashed and the vibrant colors of the couture clothing the women were sporting as they clung to the arms of their tuxedo clad gentlemen.

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It was tradition among our friends to camp out in Jake's backyard at least once every summer. Jake had a giant tent, with three rooms and two closets. The first time we ever set it up it took us two hours. Working under the hot summer sun, joking and sweating, we were confident and untouchable. We were seniors this year, nearing maturity, working out every chance we had. Needless to say, we were very in shape.

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The cabbie looked at me knowingly as I handed over his fare. I just smirked in return. He knew what a girl dressed like I was , what I was after and so did I. I was dressed like a dirty, fucking slut for good reason -- I was a dirty, fucking slut. I had come to this shattering realisation in the twelve months since my eighteenth birthday party (sucking off four different guys as a present to yourself can bring that realisation you know) and ever since I had realised how badly I craved first sex and then as kinky and as filthy sex as could be imagined.

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