Your erotic stories

How could he? That bastard of a boyfriend of mine? Yes, despite living together we both had our freedom. He'd never been unfaithful to me before. Not that I knew of. Neither had I with him. Not with another man, anyway. A woman was different, of course. My boyfriend had no idea I was bisexual. That was, and is, a side I keep to myself. I love men. Love cock. But I love women, too.

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Pt. 1 - The Rehearsal Dinner So far it was a very lovely dinner party. Krista sat at the table with the others, her legs crossed. She slowly brought the glass of champagne to her lips as her eyes danced about the room. She looked over at her mother, Karen, sitting there looking nearly lifeless, a former shell of her energetic self. Krista smiled, knowing all to well, and proudly she might add, that she was responsible for the woman's lack of energy and near lack of a will to live.

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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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I was feeling a bit tipsy as I topped off the two glasses and dropped the empty wine bottle in the trash. I had a splitting headache that wasn't responding to aspirin, and I had nothing stronger. "Sandy?" Julie, my best friend, called from the living room, "You put the other bottles in the fridge?" "Yeah, they should be cold by the time we finish these."

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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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Her throat was burning and she found it hard to breathe. Her knees were aching from supporting her entire weight for too long on the cold tile floor. These pains were tolerable, minor even, compared to the humiliation that she had just experienced and even more painful still was knowing that she was about to endure an ever greater embarrassment.

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Liz pulled into the parking lot of the Angel Motel as she had on many occasions. Her job in the last year had been taking her further and further a field, bringing with it the difficulties of travel. She had tried different transport options in that time and now she regularly made the eight hundred mile journey back home by car; having lost faith with the airlines for a number of reasons. This had its advantages and disadvantages.

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Sean Harper was nervous as he pulled his car into the driveway of the home where Rita Murray lived with her parents. The house was dark and quiet, since her parents were out of town on a long weekend visit to relatives. Rita, on the other hand, sat so close to Sean that if he had not put his arm around her shoulders there would have been no room for it anywhere. Sean had taken her to a restaurant with more ambience than flavor, although both of them had enjoyed the meal, paying more attention to each other than to the food.

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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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