Your erotic stories

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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As my wife Molly and I got into our fifties, things sort of settled down between us. Things of a sexual nature I mean. Neither of us were as slim and trim as we'd been when we'd met forty years before, and though I still considered her my best friend and sexually desirable, she, I believe, began to think she was no longer attractive. I tried to convince her otherwise (I mean, hey, I'm paunchy too!), and though she said she believed me, I knew that deep down inside, she felt somewhat ugly and unwanted.

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Every day for the past six months, I walk my dog on a quiet bay beach. While the ocean beaches here in the Hamptons are among the most beautiful beaches in the world, the bay beaches ain't chopped liver. Plus the facts that I can walk him anytime I want as long as I pick up after him (the town has plastic doggie-bag dispensers in the parking area), that it's close to where I live and that during the week, it is usually empty, makes this beach ideal.

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I'm having an affair. Like many in this position I didn't plan it. I'm in my mid thirties, happy with a family and my life but I guess something must have been missing otherwise I wouldn't be here. It started because of the bad weather we'd been having. Weeks of rain with little respite had made our laundry pile grow and grow.

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Life is a strange thing. Just when you think you've got it figured out, it throws you a curveball. My wife, Kara, is an extremely beautiful girl with long blonde hair and a toned tan body. She also happens to be extremely modest in the bedroom. Whenever we try something new I'm always the one making the suggestion.

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Hi, I'm Alicia, I'm eighteen years old and a Senior at Central High School, I'm also a varsity cheerleader there, along with my best friend and lover, Shelly. Yes, Shelly is my lover, has been since December when we got stranded at the Log Cabin Motel because of a blizzard.

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