Your erotic stories

"C'mon honey, please, please, just do it!" "I...I can't, baby...I just can't!" "But you promised! You said you wanted to, please do it!" "That was before, I..I always want to before but after I...I just can't..." I looked down between my spread thighs, feeling foolish. I was begging my husband to eat my pussy after he'd just fucked me, something we'd both expressed interest in having happen in many a spoken fantasy, but which – again – he was chickening out of once he'd screwed me and left me full of cum.

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You have to understand this: despite my lover's sexuality and beauty, she tends to hide her light under a bushel in public. She rarely wants her physical appearance to be the center of attention. It's a long story as to why this is so, and perhaps that's a story for another time. Suffice it to say that she reminds me of a line from the movie, Moulin Rouge:

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Stretched out on your couch you look so sexy, so confident, and so proud of your masculinity. Your cock is beginning to swell because you know what's coming; we've done this so many times we've lost count. We aren't in a hurry; there is no need to rush. No one knows what we share. I'm seated comfortably across from you, still clothed, gazing at you - your manhood. Drinking in the beauty of your lovely cock!

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I drove up early Saturday morning. I remember he said he went there about every weekend and I was hoping this weekend would be no exception. I drove about the country with no luck of finding his street so I stopped by this lone gas station sitting out on some country road to ask for directions. The place looked abandoned when I pulled in, but I got out and went to the small office and opened the door and asked if anyone was there.

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"I'll take a deluxe bacon cheeseburger with fries and a double Stoli martini on the rocks." The corner of my mouth curled in a smile as I listened to Jack's order. Some things never change. I turned to the waitress. "I'll have the Chef's Salad, please, and a sparkling water with lime," I said. Jack leveled his gaze at me and smirked. "I don't know about your generation, son. Your father never would have ordered rabbit food and water for lunch. What's the world coming to?"

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She knew what they were up to. She'd seen them watching her from across the room. They were in the booth furthest away from where she was seated at the bar. She had noticed the girl first, a young woman with short blond curls, very attractive. Next to the girl was a guy, somewhere in his mid twenties or so, with brown hair nearly shaved to his scalp.

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I felt a moment of uncertainty about the experience I was about to let myself in for, but the sight of Carl removing his jeans to reveal a gloriously hard cock protruding through the slit of his boxers swept away my twinge of insecurity. Well, stricly speaking I wasn't about to let myself in for it; that moment had come twenty minutes ago, in the club, when I agreed to his crazy suggestion.

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