Your erotic stories

Joe had been looking forward to a quiet weekend. The high-end renovation he had been hired to complete had a deadline and he had to bust his ass all week to get it completed on time. Now, with the deadline met and the check in hand, he was planning on watching baseball and drinking beer all weekend. He got up early to go for a run. He figured a good run would cancel out some of the beer.

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Clear, warm waters and azure skies did nothing for her. There had been a holiday, once, where she had sat on one of those white sanded beaches whilst grinning Caribbean boys brought her drinks under a "made in china" palm parasol. The heat, even in the shade, was sapping.

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Olivia scurried nervously down the pot-holed street of the poor, downtown neighborhood of the city. Having grown up in the wealthy suburbs, she had only visited this part of town once or twice in her life. She recalled coming down here with her father on one of his business errands a couple years back. As she breathed in the hot night air, she recalled from that earlier trip the same sweet, slightly rotten smell of the city in the summer.

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Oh. My. Goodness. Was she seeing what she thought she was seeing? Creeping closer in the darkness, she realized she was, and while disturbing to watch, she felt her pussy twitch. Watching for a bit longer, until she felt sure she had to be back or be caught, she slowly and quietly made her way back to the street. She had recently moved to the neighborhood, a really nice neighborhood, almost at the end of the cul-de-sac.

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"Do you trust me?" I asked looking up at Mike, my lover, from between his legs. My hand stilled on his cock as I waited for an answer. He laughed nervously, "Why?" "Just answer! Do you?" "Of course." I smiled up at him and resumed my slow stroke up and down his shaft. "Mmm," he half moaned and half sighed as he leaned back against the pillows on the bed. "I love when you tease me."

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My Name is Robert Walsh and I have been through some significant transformations in my life and I need to tell someone about them; "I need to tell my story". How it began... I am 49 years old now, but this all began for me about 39 years ago when I was a boy living with my mom in a 1 bedroom apartment in the basement of the Babylon Shores Motel. I didn't know this at the time but my mom had been divorced because my dad had caught her several times in our house screwing her boss "Lenny".

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"...When you greet me at your door I want you to be wearing your dildo-pants. Oh, and wear them under your tightest pair of jeans. I'm taking you out tonight, and yes; I do want you wearing them out in public. I'll see you in a bit," I said, and then hung up without giving her a chance to respond.

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When I was 19-20, I worked as a production assistant for a TV show which I won't name. It was not a huge deal. It was steadily successful in a small way, and is still on today. It was a fun job. Most PA jobs are not. You run shitty errands and never get appreciated. Usually the boss treats you like shit. This job was different. People were friendly.

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Becky bends over, leans into Paul's ear. "It's stuffy in here," she says. "Let's go for a walk." Paul looks up and watches her retreat around the coffee table. He pardons himself to his two bookend sofa-mates – the gregarious Auntie Lou and the diametric Grandma Claire, a stick with permanently down-turned lips and hardened scowl. Paul is relieved to escape her still life painting.

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So, here's a story you perhaps don't hear every day. It's a true story, but it has a couple of layers, so allow me to explain some of the moving parts. I'll try not to ramble too much so we can get to the juicy stuff. My name is Max and this happened to me. Sometimes I still can't believe how it all played out. I work at a small business in the hospitality industry.

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