Your erotic stories

He had been tracking his female's scent for days when he located her. Immediately he recognized who she was and what she meant to him. It had taken him awhile to realize that the circling path she was wondering could only mean that she was lost. Amazing, he had never known any of their kind to be lost. She was obviously young. Panic had struck him for a moment that she would be too young. However further study of her scent established her age to be well into her breeding years.

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She had come to pray. That was all. Now she was on her knees, gagging on Father O'Reilly's cock. It was so thick. When he had brushed aside his robes, a hot, red slab of meat with bulging veins was revealed and pressed to her lips. "I've been listening to you say your prayers. Why don't you say the Our Father, Ashley?" he asked, still pressing the head of his cock against her smooth lips.

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I pouted as I watched Melanie type away on her laptop. She was so sexy when she was working. She had on her black pajama bottoms and a black sports bra. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and her face wore an expression of concentration. She was an advertising executive at the firm she worked at, and she had to close a deal with some big shoe chain. All of the details were a bit lost on me since I never cared much for business, but she loves it.

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"You've got to talk to me, Babe." His fingers trailed down her throat...down her chest...over the curve of her breast, the nails leaving the slightest trace of redness in their wake. Her body arched instinctively, hungry for his touch. She writhed there, tugging at the nylon cuffs that kept her wrists bound over her head.

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By the time the clock struck midnight, most of the 'casual' guests were long gone, having delivered their housewarming gifts, had a few snacks and drinks, and were probably already in bed. Not everybody had left though. I adjusted my shirt and gazed around the living room. Nick was sprawled on the couch, a gin and tonic in his hand, watching the TV. Geri and Peter were sitting in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka, while my wife Samantha was discussing something with Connor and Caitlin. Anna was in the bathroom and Phillip was out back smoking a cigarette.

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Lori walked into the conference room with confidence, swinging her hips with each step. Her boss, Ryan, gazed at her legs as she strode past him, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. She took a seat next to his, crossing her legs with a rasp of fabrics as her black pencil skirt slid over her nylons. The meeting chairs were leather, cozy, and the large table was glass. Sitting next to Lori, Ryan had an excellent view of her legs and that's the way he liked it.

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Cassie Stevens was a stunning woman. She kept herself in amazing shape, particularly for a mother of two, and for someone her age. At over 40 years old, she was still able to turn heads, and she knew it. Her body was a testament to the many hours she put in at the gym and in her yoga classes. She was slim and toned, with an ass women half her age would kill for. Her breasts were not exactly enormous, but were a decent size, and lacked the sag many of her friends experienced, again thanks to her commitment to physical fitness.

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There are many moments in life that one can see as stunning; I am witnessing such a moment. My home is in the mountains of Pennsylvania, when the snow falls across the landscape, especially around the holidays it reminds me that God,in his infinite wisdom, allows us the time to reflect and remember the beauty in our lives. It has been some time since I've written of my deliciously decadent liaisons. As you know, I am a lover of older men.

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Jason stared at Marsha's ass as she leaned over the conference table in her office reviewing the ad layouts they'd been working on. Part of him was admiring her shapely ass, but most of him was still upset over the performance evaluation she'd given him yesterday. Jason was a 23-year-old artist, fresh out of art school, working for a medium size Ad Agency on the west coast.

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Erica was a smart lady in her late thirties. Trim figure, short black hair, always dressed immaculately. Attractive in a cold way. Untouchable - none of the rest of us would ever be allowed near her. And formidable. Not formidable in an unpleasant way, but someone who had to run things. Chair things. Be in charge of things, and enjoyed the status that went with it. Sometimes the things she ran were run to feed her ego, rather than for the benefit of the organisation or members.

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