Your erotic stories

Laying the groundwork (and Penny) for a culture of sharing I know Chapter 3 was a little slow-going. I wrote you that one, so I could bring you this one. Enjoy. I had spent much longer with Aunt Marie than I'd planned. It was almost 6:00 pm. No surprise then, when I got home to find Mom and Penny sitting on the couch, drinking wine, and talking quietly.

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The following story depicts plenty of male and female bisexuality, plus several fetishes such as anal, spitting, cum swapping and smoking. If you are offended by the notion of sexual acts between two men, you should skip this story and read something more suitable to your taste. The previous chapter has been revised and expanded. More chapters will follow soon.

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I've always been a kid at heart. Even today at the age of 24, I still occasionally wear my hair in pigtails, I still suck my thumb when I sleep, and I love to wear short schoolgirl skirts with white cotton panties. I never really got the hang of high heels; I mainly wear white tennis shoes. Instead of a purse, I carry a backpack shaped like some fuzzy animal.

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Another long day at work is at an end. It has been a week of non stop demands at work and I am ready for some relaxation. Tossing my clothes as I head for the bathroom, leaving a trail of laundry to be picked up later, I stop to stare at my reflection in the mirror. Unable to resist, I pinch my nipples to hard peaks, moaning softly in the quiet of the house. Bending to put the plug in the tub, then start a nice hot bath, spilling some bubble bath in, inhaling the scent of wild strawberries.

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Cheryl is my best friend. I love her dearly. I depend on her and trust her and would do anything for her. I share everything with her. My hopes and dreams. My Fears. My triumphs and tragedies. I even share my husband... We started our little "situation" a few years ago. It all started over dinner and a couple bottles of wine. Cheryl had been telling us how she was having a hard time finding any good men. "Everyone I meet is a creep!" she said. "Or immature and looking for a mommy!"

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I walk into the apartment without knocking. I am expected and you are about to fulfill one of my deepest darkest fantasies. You are waiting for me in the living room wearing dress pants and a button-down shirt in a shade of dusty blue. I scan the room but I don't see Jordan anywhere. You smile and lead me into the bedroom where Jordan is waiting, one narrow hip leaned against the bedpost.

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It was about a year and a half ago, I was sitting in my work truck having a lunch break and leching at any remotely sexy looking female who happened to walk by, fantasizing about kinky sex. Such has been my custom ever since I can remember. At 53 I still had a raging libido and quite simply did not get enough sex to satisfy it. I could still quite easily orgasm two or three times a day.

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I began looking to meet women online in my early twenties when I discovered I had a fetish for women who smoked. I don't understand why I have the fetish, as I do not smoke or care to be around people who do, but I find myself completely aroused when I see a hot woman smoking in a very sexy way. The way a woman lights, holds, draws and blows the smoke all plays a factor on how excited and how hard my cock gets.

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The thumping bass sound announced the approach of Miguel's car long before Damon saw it come around the corner and pull up to the side of the basketball court. Damon took one last shot, banking the ball off the backboard and through the hoop before jogging over to the high chain link fence surrounding the court where Miguel's car sat on the other side. The passengers side window of Miguel's Camry slid down and Luke leaned out.

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I was walking through the streets of the little Central American town, headed to one of its many markets. Founded by the Spanish over 500 years ago, it's nestled in a ring of mostly-dormant volcanoes. You can still see the occasional plume of steam and smoke escaping the crest of one or the other of them.

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