Your erotic stories

I could hear the faint sound of music emanating from behind the door as I made my way down the hallway. Each step brought me closer as the music became louder and louder. I listened intently as I closed in, but could not make out place the song or the band, writing it off as one of the many independent, no-name artists that Laura always listened to.

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His eyes were closed, a vain token of propriety: if he didn't see what was happening, was he really responsible? Around his finger her mouth closed, warm, wet, sucking. He felt her teeth graze over the hardness of his wedding band, then those hot, soft lips closed about his finger, retreating slowly towards his fingertip with a delicious, unfamiliar suction. What am I doing? There is a reason I've worn this band for fifteen years.

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I shifted my computer bag on my shoulder as I hustled down the corridor. I hated being late, especially when it was my own presentation. I was cutting it close, very close, and at these things audience reviews were everything. The last thing I wanted to hear from my manager was that my reviews sucked because they were preoccupied by my tardiness.

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Skylar McGill was an attractive girl. She was just 19 years old, around 5 foot 5 and just the right balance between slim and curvy, with tanned skin, grey-green eyes and dark brown hair to her shoulders, she was nothing special but certainly not ugly. However, that morning, after crying all night, she definitely did not look her best. Looking in the mirror, she sighed, wondering when it would be over. Her friend Magdalena was playing mind games with her again.

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She sat there and the thought to herself about all the times she had sat at home and cried while he had been out doing who knows what. She also thought of all the times she had pondered about what he was really telling her and what he wasn't. Tonight after three years she felt it was time for him to know the the pain she had felt.

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I gasped in surprise as I felt the cock force its way into my wet cunt. I knew it was big, but was not expecting it to feel so big. After all, my cunt was not as tight fitting as it used to be when I was younger. I was 57 years old, and had been around the block a bit during my time. I'd been married and divorced 3 times – and to be honest each divorce was my fault entirely – I'd whored myself around quite a bit and acted like a total slag.

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I would not have imagined that a little innocent flirting could lead to such life changing events. I am a woman scorned. And you know what they say about that! Let me explain. I'd been married to my high school sweetie for nine years when I woke up in the middle of the night to find my husband licking my sisters trifling pussy. Yeah...that's exactly what I said too!

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Sometimes, I couldn't stand my father. I believed it was his fault my mom killed herself. He was gorgeous and he could have anyone he wanted, and so he did. He cheated on her all the time. Men, women, she-males. And he would bring them home since mom died, not caring I was in the house. He was the dominate type, I would hear them begging for him, he told them too. I wouldn't be surprised if I had siblings out there I never knew of.

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"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck" Kate picked up the mug he had given her the previous Christmas..."World's best Fiancée." it said in bright red happy letters. She looked at it, burst into tears, and hurled it across the room where it shattered into a hundred pieces against wall...just like her heart was broken into a hundred cutting shards in her chest. She flopped back onto the bed and cried, and cursed, and howled, and screamed in anger.

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Candice sat in the corner, her foot tapping anxiously on the bar stool as butterflies performed stunning feats of acrobatics in her stomach. She watched the door as she sipped her fourth whiskey sour. Her head hurt, her heart hurt, but her resolve never wavered. In her mind, there was only one way to get even with her cheating fiancée.

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