Your erotic stories

I've been working as an escort in Cardiff for a few months now. I was a late starter -- I've just turned 54 years old -- but I've been surprised just how much business I'm getting. I used to do it part-time, but I've given up my job as a school secretary now and see men every week day. I only work during the days, not evenings, and my dull husband Don doesn't suspect a thing.

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I've suspected all along that Russ Adams is a take-charge kind of guy, and it turns out I'm right. As soon as we're back in my hotel room he carefully hangs up his sport jacket, then takes me in his arms and kisses me, admitting of no discussion or resistance. His neatly trimmed beard tickles my face; his lips and tongue are eager yet tender.

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There was this nasty character that lived up the road from me. A walking asshole is how I tended to think of him. He had a top of the line PC system, though, and he did recognise talent when he came across it. That's why he used to have me do any repairs he needed to his system. The only catch was that I had to go to his place to do the repairs and he would sit by my shoulder the entire time I was there, making sure I didn't snoop in his files. I suspected that he had a pile of porn he didn't want me stumbling across.

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Brian was sipping coffee and taking in the vista of the Long Island Sound from the oversized sun room at the rear of his mansion in Old Field. The room was what he had built the entire house around, and he had cleared out trees and brush in order to afford himself an unobstructed view of the water. There were few things in life that made him as happy as the sight of the water and the ever present smell of the salt air.

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Phil came into the sauna as I hoped he would. He came up to the top tier and sat below me where I was lying on my back, just a white towel around me, the leg toward the wall bent, foot flat on the wooden slats of the bench, with the other leg straight. He sat close enough to me that the roughness of his towel brushed the toes of my stretched foot. I had started hardening up just in anticipation that he'd come. It had been him who had said "See you in the sauna" and had given me "that" look. And I continued to engorge now that he was here.

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"God, she's hot. It's so unfair," my friend muttered, looking at Kala. I followed her gaze, seeing the girl that lived across the hall getting the keys to her apartment out. She had long light brown hair with streaks of blonde that came down just below her shoulders, light golden skin, a perfectly shaped face with pouty lips and angled eyes, and the typical impossible combination of a thin, tight, toned body and large perfect tits.

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Boone, Mississippi. 1976. September In the middle of the night Ginny woke with her bare feet burning and itching something fierce. When she swung her coltish legs out from under the sheets and pulled her knees up tight to her chest, she found her ankles littered with sore, red welts. Ginny rubbed at her big eyes in the hot darkness, trying to rouse herself.

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I had been carrying on a rather long term exchange with Terry via Email. It began rather innocently and in truth, it still was, but as time went on we began to delve into personal thoughts, and intimate exchanges. Oh not the usual girl-girl thing, but more or less, just confessing to each other about what we wish would happen or what we hoped would happen in our lives.

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Wow, I said to myself, you've come a long way, girl, in the past six months. I glanced over at the girl sleeping beside me in bed, at the long, shapely legs and the full, chocolate breasts that I had enjoyed so much over the past several hours. On the floor around the bed were scattered pieces of clothing - a pretty top here, a pair of shorts over there, and nearer the bed, a lacy bra and a pair of damp panties frantically stripped off and discarded in a lustful frenzy.

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After the shock of walking into the house from work and seeing my girlfriends, after the kisses and hellos and a scolding, affectionate look at my husband, I sat at the patio table and was handed a beer and got the details. My silly husband, bless him, knew how I enjoyed my nights with the girls, without our husbands, just chatting and eating things we shouldn't and laughing at our lives. He had conspired with Mona, my best friend of the group, to get the girls to my house for a night.

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