Your erotic stories

I arrived a little early to my second date with Chloe. I was nervous. She was definitely a cool girl, but she had a mischievous aura about her - I never knew what she would do next. I guess that would be expected because for all intents and purposes she really was still a stranger, but I felt a crazy kind of energy being around her. Tonight I was picking her up at her apartment, a nice place downtown.

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There is a long, still silence. Finally, you exhale slowly and speak. "Yes." "Yes, what?" You hear my voice beside you. "Yes. ... I surrender... to you." You are blindfolded and tied to your own bed, secured by each ankle and wrist to the four bedposts. You are spread-eagled on your back, naked except for the exquisitely soft blanket covering you from shoulder to ankle.

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"You ready to stick that bad boy back in my tight little ass?" Ashley sneered, turning her heads toward me, looking back, as I crawled and knelt obediently behind her outstretched rear end. "You bet I am!" I exclaimed, eagerly positioning myself, ready to target and plunge my readied spear into her open exhaust shaft. I couldn't believe I was in the position, literally speaking, immediately behind her California grade juicy ripe piece. Only a few hours prior, I had finally met Ashley, the anal goddess.

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From his vantage point, he could look up her body and see her serene face, so peaceful in the afterglow of orgasm. He could also see her bush in front of his face and as he shuddered with arousal at how turned on she made him. In order to kiss her as she wished, he had to let her thighs drape completely over his shoulders, lifting his shoulders up to take her lower body weight completely and bringing her arsecheeks into a better range of accessibility.

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Fireworks burst in the night sky overhead and a menagerie of costumed men and women push past me on the crowded street. The inebriated celebrants shy away and let me pass when I glare them down with my practiced 'Do Not Fuck With Me' face. It takes quite a lot of practice to get it right when you're a five-foot-six woman. I scan the crowd and regain sight of you as you turn down a wide stairway and into an underground concourse. My lips can't help but curl up in a smile.

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"May you live in interesting times," Anya intoned. "Man, I always get that one!" "In bed," I reminded her saucily. "Speaking of which… Josh's coming over tonight," she giggled. "Read yours!" "You are about to embark on a fabulous adventure." I paused for a beat then added, "In bed." "Well, you are going on a trip tomorrow!" Anya squealed excitedly. "And it's been way too long since you had a man in your bed, mister."

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I never thought I'd have any fun at a wedding. The food is bad, the conversation is worse and the only thing to do is drink. And to make matters worse, all the available good looking females were religious. It was turning out to be a real nightmare. At least I looked good in a tux. I was wandering around, trying desperately to avoid a few people that I knew would launch into the whole "what are you doing these days" talk.

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"Got a light?" Melissa looked up as she was putting her lighter and cigarettes back into her small purse. Standing next to her at the bar was another young woman, maybe a couple years older than her own 22 years. The young woman was striking, with shoulder length, slightly curly red hair. Her face was nearly flawless, her lips full and pursed in a slight smile.

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My name is Jacob. I am 21 and I work as a materials handling specialist for a Chicago construction company. It pays very well, and while not always the most exciting job in the world it does have it's moments, like the time we ordered 500 toilet seals and received 500 toilet seats. But I digress. This story is about my Senior Prom. I had just turned 18 at the time and was dating this beautiful young woman named Stella. Blonde, blue eyed, 46 DD with a nice big ass. She was the object of my teen angst.

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Each year I travel to the convention at Hay on Wye. It's a small town near Monmouth in Wales that has the most amazing river close by where in my teens and early twenties I used to canoe. Now I go to this sleepy area for its once a year awakening where book sellers, buyers and authors come to share tales, ply their trade or just browse and pick up the atmosphere.

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