Your erotic stories

The 14th Anniversary A Valentine's Day Story She was kneeling on the hard surface of their sturdy couch table. It had been repositioned to face the entrance of their apartment; so she would be the first thing her Mistress would see when she came home from work. By then, she knew her knees and shins would be hurting, her breasts would be throbbing with every heartbeat, her nipples would have gone numb and her lips dry -- and there was nothing she could do about it.

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Just to reintroduce myself, call me Kris and this is part 2 of mine and Marcy's story. We had just had our first round of amazing discoveries when Marcy's cousin decided to come to bed! We laid there in the dark, in silence, on opposite ends of the bed, hiding far under the covers, listening to Lisa get settled into bed. My mind was still racing a hundred miles an hour and before I knew it we could hear Lisa's heavy breathing drifting from the bunk above us.

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It was called "The French Cafe" which would normally be the kind of place I would avoid but one of my co workers got me hooked on the french vanilla mocha latte. I now went there every Sunday like clockwork placing my order before sitting at my favorite table near the back. I would read my Sunday paper and watch the happenings in the small town I called my home. I didn't interact much with the people, that was my wife's job throughout our marriage, as she never met a stranger.

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I could smell a floral scent as I walked down the hall to our bedroom door. I loosened my tie and called out, "Lynn, I'm home." "In here, honey." I felt a brief flicker of excitement that she might be waiting for me naked on the bed. Well, she was lying on the bed all right, but she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants and was flipping through a magazine. In other words, her usual evening garb.

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Everything was arranged the way I wanted it. We'd been building up to this point slowly. The entire anal experience was new to us, but we'd heard it was wonderful for some, unpleasant for others. It was time to find out for ourselves. I remember how I approached the subject with him. For years he'd been against the idea, but in all honesty so had I.

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"First the tide rushes in, plants a kiss on the shore . . ." Matt often started a set with something quiet and slow, like "Ebb Tide," when there was a convention or two in the hotel, like there was today—electricians and bankers. What a combination. Something quiet tended to settle and quiet them down to the point that he could stand it.

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The moment he put the phone down I felt a surge of joy rise inside of me. Okay, that's strictly not true; it had been there all day, like a troupe of ballet dancers in steel-toed boots had taken up residence in my gut. I was behaving, I knew, like some dorky teenager about to embark on a first date. The fact was, I wasn't and neither was he.

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** All characters are 18+ ** I can't forget the day when I saw him for the first time. He was a little boy with a cute smile, brunette hair and very small, yet beautiful eyes. His little hand held my finger in a firm grip. Today, tears formed in Aunt Celina's eyes when nurse handed over the little boy to her. She gave a little kiss on his forehead and looked in his beautiful eyes; she was so happy and we were happy for her.

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Kurt was nervous. She was meant to be there in fifteen minutes, it was quarter to six now and the movie started at six-thirty. She had told him she would be round to pick him up, it would just be easier that way. He had put on his favourite shirt; Navy blue and plain, he wore it everywhere he went and didn't feel the need to dress up tonight. He was also wearing his oldest pair of jeans, held up by a belt he had just gotten the week before, Kurt despised shopping and even more so when it was for pants.

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I don't want to open my eyes. It feels so peaceful and warm lying in my bed listening to the rain falling on my roof. The little drops create a rhythmic pattern, a song if you will as they plummet and splash one by one. You may be hard pressed to appreciate the rain. Maybe you don't see the beauty in a sky painted in shades of gray, may consider it bleak or dreary, not me. Rain is the element necessary to sustain all life, how could that be dreary?

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