Your erotic stories

It was late, just after 2am, and my wife Lynn and I were finally getting around to going to bed. She hates to go to bed alone, so when I have work to catch up on, she'll normally stay up with me as late as is necessary, surfing the web, playing Solitaire on the computer, or reading until I'm done. Sometimes when she gets interested in something she finds online, I end up waiting for her instead.

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My name is Angeline Currie. You won't find that name in any history of Hollywood. In all the movies in which I starred from the '40s to the '60s, and the character roles I played in movies and on TV in the twilight of my career, I was billed quite differently. Not even my agent knew my real name but, trust me, if you heard my professional name you'd certainly know it.

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PRELUDE Carol Simpson was on a short flight from Detroit Metro Airport to Chicago's O'Hare airport. She was going to spend a four day weekend with a guy she had met months ago in the Detroit suburbs. They met at a bar and hit it off and since then they had sex every time that Walt was in town. He had often talked about having her come to Chicago and spend a weekend with him. Carol took Thursday and Monday as vacation days to make it a long weekend visit.

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It had been a hard week at work and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. I called my mate, Darren, and asked him if he fancied a drink on Saturday night so he suggested we have a drink in and I stay over at his place as his parents were away.

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I had known Diana for over four years, since my husband came to the university here. We've always been friendly in a casual way, never close. We see each other about once every other month, mostly faculty social events involving our husbands. Mine is a bigshot professor, hers is the dean of the college and though they've become pretty good friends over the years, we've never socialized as a foursome.

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"Well," Tom sighed, "what other romantic songs do we have for Valentine's Day? More Dean Martin?" The little piano bar was more crowded than on some nights. It had been a shore day, St. Martin. No big production show tonight, just one of those juggling comedians that seem to find their way on to cruise ships. Washed up, like him, flotsam bobbing against the shoreline, but not quite, not quite stranded yet.

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For the past sixteen months, my sex life has been scaled back to what I would call "ordinary." My husband and I moved to Hong Kong with our children for a temporary assignment with his company that ended just two weeks ago. We decided before we left home that it would be best to leave our fetishes behind because we would be closely "supervised" by our host country.

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Holding your hands tightly behind your head, you open your mouth wide and push yourself deep onto the cock in front of you gagging a little as the shaft reaches the back of your throat. You look up at the man in front of you as he moans in pleasure. Your underwear is absolutely soaked as the vibrator strapped to your clit continues to hum away, making you shudder.

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My heart quickens as I take your hand and lead you down the empty hallway. You glance over at me with a suspicious smirk, a knowing glint flashing across your crystal blue eyes. I return your smile and continue towards my intended destination. After a brief inspection of the surrounding hall I see nor hear any sign of others in the area of the building. I reach out and push the bathroom door open, dragging you inside. An enthusiastic smile beams across your beautiful face as the door swings shut and I approach, backing you up against the sink.

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The thumping bass sound announced the approach of Miguel's car long before Damon saw it come around the corner and pull up to the side of the basketball court. Damon took one last shot, banking the ball off the backboard and through the hoop before jogging over to the high chain link fence surrounding the court where Miguel's car sat on the other side. The passengers side window of Miguel's Camry slid down and Luke leaned out.

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