Your erotic stories

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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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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Working away from home on the odd weekend suited Yaz really well; she thought a lot of Cal, Yaz didn't want anything to serious they had spoke about it and Cal was fine with the situation after all she got the odd weekend to do what or who she wanted too. "You have remembered I'm working away this weekend haven't you chick?" Yaz asked Cal before heading out of the door.

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I'm sitting here with my head spinning, completely confused. I need to talk this thing through with someone... I just don't understand my own feelings on this one. I've honestly never felt like this before. It all started last night. Christmas party season -- the joys! I've not been in my new job very long, working in the sales floor of a national magazine (I'm not allowed to say which, but you've probably read it in the hairdressers.')

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~This is a story of fiction based on a real life relationship between two people who love and care for each other. These characters interact in a manner that not all readers may be able to connect with, but stays true to the dynamic that exists between the real life players behind it. Please take this into account as you rate and comment, hope you enjoy.~

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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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It was a stormy night in Atlanta. My bones rattled with chills as I struggled through sheets of rain that slapped against my body. My thin windbreaker failed it's only job, as I felt the dampness soak into my clothes which sucked onto my skin. It was a terrible night, but this struggle of the elements was worth it. For tonight, I would meet my angel, and nothing would warm my drenched body more than her embrace.

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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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"Why aren't you having sex with Trevor?" asked Jen during lunch with her best friend. "If I had a housemate who was: a good looking guy, with a big cock, knew how to use it and liked to eat pussy .... I'd be fucking him two to three times a week. Maybe even two to three times a day on the weekends!" "You're such a slut!" replied Tina, laughing. "Believe me I've thought about it ever since I broke up with Steve two months ago.

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Having read stories on Literotica for a few years, I finally started writing and posting stories at the beginning of this year. I never knew what an effect it would have on my life! I always imagined that this site was a place where we described our fantasies. I never suspected it would lead to one of them actually happening.

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