Your erotic stories

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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Unknown to Sue, I planned to share her with whoever sat with us. So, while watching her dress for our trip, I'd insisted she wear a tiny front-clasp 1/4 cup bra with lacy top that fit loosely and barely hid her firm, tall nips above the cups. Instead of the correct 33A bra, she wore a 32B and specially adjusted the straps.

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I want to tell you all a little story about a former fuck buddy of mine. I'm using the term "fuck buddy" here relatively because we never technically fucked per se. Suffice to say that I met a crazy girl who did some crazy things with me. OK, I'm being too vague now, and I'm probably confusing you. Here's how it all happened:

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I knew he had been planning something unusual for several days before he broached the subject - there was just something in his manner that suggested he was thinking, analyzing, and preparing some new exploit. It's one of the things I love about him - he's always working out new things to try and new experiences for us to share. He finally came out with his latest idea as we were rinsing the dinner dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

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What I'm about to relate happened last week. In a sense it was the result of a dare, sort of. Let me explain. I made a new friend recently who I'll call Jean. Jean and I hit it off right away; we are so much alike, it's scary. Although we differ somewhat in age -- I'm fifty-something, she's thirty-something -- it turns out we both share a wild and naughty aspect to our personalities ... and, we both love cock.

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It was a hot summer day when Eric suggested they go out for a good meal and maybe dancing. Paula loved to dance, she could shake her ass better than most and had a ass most like to watch being shaken. With her long blonde hair and large breast she could still turn heads. She looked through her closet and found the little black sun dress she knew would show off her body and would make her man horny as hell.

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The summer was always prime time for teenage boys, especially finishing up your spurt of puberty. 18-19 years old, looking to college girls who want to get drunk, party and experiment, with you gladly volunteering to be their guinea pig. The summer was time to head to the pool, to the beach and to water parks, to enjoy all of the girls running around in skimpy bikinis who want nothing but approval on how sexy they look. For some reason though, this summer, the summer before I head to college, there was only one girl who caught my eye, better yet, one woman.

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It was 4:30 p.m. and already dark one dreary, rainy late January day in Portland. As usual, I stopped by my local Fred Meyer store to buy some items for dinner. One trip to Montreal years ago and, ever since, I've liked buying just enough fresh items for dinner each night. I even shop with an old web sack that I got when I bought too many oranges. It is a ritual now. I see some familiar faces and get to talk to few people briefly before heading to my quiet house and the evening news.

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I pull up to the curb, around the corner from my apartment. It has been a very long day and more than anything I am glad to be home and am looking forward to a nice long bath, some quiet music. I turn off the car, and look out my window before opening the door. For a moment my attention is drawn to the other side of the street. It is only for a moment and I shake my head, thinking I have caught myself starting to day dream. Checking for traffic I open my car door and get out.

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