Your erotic stories

My gut tightened as I walked down the line of tents to Sergeant First Class McNundic's green hootch, For a long time I had felt nervous around him. I had no reason to, really – I was a 2nd Lieutenant in the US Army, and he was a noncommissioned officer in my platoon. I had no reason to be nervous around that guy!

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It was my birthday and my husband, James, had promised me a surprise I'd never forget. He handed me a box. When I opened it I discovered a beautiful black dress. It was cut low in both the front and back, came just above the knee, and was slit up the thigh. He told me that I was to wear the dress with nothing on underneath it. As I looked at it, I realized I couldn't have worn much underneath it anyway. The dressed hugged every curve of my body. I felt incredibly sensual as I slipped it over my skin.

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PRELUDE I woke up in a strange apartment alone on a Saturday morning. I was naked in strange bed and things started coming back to me. What had I done last night? Was it a dream or real? I knew the answer, it was real. My thoughts shamelessly returned to my fiancé Martin when I glanced at my engagement ring. He had returned to the UK for a month but he had been gone less than two weeks. We had been so close when he was here and yet I forgot him so quickly giving into my dark side.

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This story's a sequel to Copenhagen Couple and Meetings with Mark. It's not necessary to read those stories first, but some things will make better sense if you do. * At the age of 20 and after my first experiences with male sex I acknowledged to myself that I was bisexual. But I wasn't going to be open about the fact that I liked to be with men. Sadly, bisexual men are often despised by both gay and straight guys, and even by some women.

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I was working late in the audio lab when Nora, my best friend came up behind me. I had my headphones on so I didn't get any warning. She looked over my shoulder at the monitor. When she put her hand on my shoulder, I was so startled that I quickly turned it off. Too late, she had seen what I was doing and I knew my secret was out. So the long explanation began. I couldn't just tell her I was clearing background noise in a recording I had made because the video was on the screen along with the audio.

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Patrice Mueller couldn't suppress a resigned sigh as she looked around the living room. It wasn't that it was dirty; it was that it looked fine. The whole house looked fine: a tastefully appointed exemplar of a white bread middle class dwelling. It was tidy, warm and cozy without a hint of ostentation.

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It felt odd, sitting in front of the screen, waiting to have a conversation with someone. But then it wasn't just a screen. A camera, too. I can see you. Big deal, I can see you too. I like the anonymity of the telephone, I can curl myself up, pull faces, read the news, hell, I can even play with myself, safe in the knowledge that no-one gets anything more than my voice. This felt a lot more dangerous.

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He was oblivious to my pain. He was looking for his own gratification. It hurt so much. I couldn't speak. I was paralyzed. I thought to myself, "He doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't know its hurting me." Suddenly, its over, a twitch of his hips, a grunt and he fills my ass with his cum. Rolling off in an orgasmic stupor before realizing I haven't moved. My tears have stopped but the my sobs shake me while I lay on my stomach in shock.

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Cathy worried about her daughter Melanie who just was eighteen years old. It made Cathy think back of her own teenage years when she was as an ugly ducking growing up in Ohio. Only in her late teens she suddenly bloomed into a beautiful swan. Unfortunately being a blooming beauty, combined with her youthful inexperience, soon made her a single mother. Fortunately she received great support from her parents, Bob and Carol.

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"You like it that way, baby? You been keeping secrets from your man?" I hear your words from the hall, where you stand, having pushed open our bedroom door. I left it a bit ajar when I lay down, knowing you were at work, never dreaming you'd come home early and catch me at my afternoon play. Or did I?

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