Your erotic stories

His Side She was surprised when I walked into the room; she actually jumped a few inches and turned around blushing. I had caught her standing in front of a full length mirror without any clothes. I could see the flush on her face, and the wetness on her fingers told me all that I needed to know. She'd been masturbating!

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I smiled when I saw the house. The corner streetlight reflected on the metal numbers screwed to the front door. This was the place. I slipped through the front gate and into the garden, walking quietly around the side of the house, carrying my bag. There was a back gate, locked, but reaching over I easily found the bolt and slid it open; stepping through I closed it behind me.

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As we pulled up to my house I enjoyed the fact that no bicycles were strewn on the driveway and no soccer goal stood on the lawn. Just my wife and I at home tonight, with no kids to interrupt and no reason to try and maintain any appearances. I had been looking forward to this for weeks. I got out of the car and turned to say goodnight to my neighbor from down the street.

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Eighteen-year-old Kristina entered the Dean's office. The busty blonde was wearing her school uniform which consisted of a white blouse, which was currently unbuttoned enough to show her ample cleavage, a short skirt and her white knee-high socks with black shoes. "Miss Mitchell, please come in and have a seat." said Dean Whitmore.

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You're downstairs reading when I call to you from the bedroom. "Honey, could you come up here for a second? I need your help with something." You put down your book, mildly annoyed at being interrupted, and walk up the stairs. "What's up, Doll?" you ask as you come around the corner into the room and stop dead in your tracks, mouth open slack jawed at the site in front of you.

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Alison. What can I say about Alison? She was eighteen, nearly nineteen actually, quite lovely, platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, excellent figure and, to top it off, she possessed a natural sexual allure that automatically turned heads. Any male coming in range of her sensual aura was instantly drawn to her, irrespective of age, girlfriends or wives. It wasn't her fault. It was just that indefinable something she had.

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My wife and I were still in love after all our 20 years of marriage but as with most couples some of the spark had slowly dropped from the relationship, especially in the sex department. Now that might not be too bad if she'd been a nympho at the start but she'd always been a lot more reserved than I was. She certainly wasn't a prude - we'd had sex in every room in the house, in the yard, on the beach, in the car and a whole bunch more places but it was always 'normal' sex.

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I shifted my computer bag on my shoulder as I hustled down the corridor. I hated being late, especially when it was my own presentation. I was cutting it close, very close, and at these things audience reviews were everything. The last thing I wanted to hear from my manager was that my reviews sucked because they were preoccupied by my tardiness.

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As we were driving down the highway I heard a moan and wondering what Beth was up to now I looked over just in time to watch her unbutton the last button on her blouse. Beth had her eyes closed and she was slowly moving her finger back and forth on her tummy by the bottom of her slightly open blouse.

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The day started off like any other Saturday: I woke up, nursing a little hangover, walked into my kitchen and made some coffee. It was a bright day outside and somewhere around 10 o'clock. I slowly got dressed and made myself a little breakfast, picked up my laptop and set off sending some emails I'd neglected the day before. That went on for about an hour or two when there was a sudden knock on the door. I looked up, perplexed, and slowly walked to the door, hearing the knocking again.

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