Your erotic stories

"What are you looking for?" "Mermaids," the young woman replied without hesitation, without even lowering her binoculars. Her Irish accent matched the fiery mane of curly red hair that had first caught my eye. She was currently leaning against the railing at the bow of the ferry, scanning the horizon, her plump bottom pushed out behind her, an attractive target for the flat of my hand, but I resisted the temptation.

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"Darn it, where's my lasagna pan?" I already had the noodles boiling, the sauce simmering, and the cheese ready to go, but now I couldn't find the darn pan. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cabinet, and then I remembered. Andi had borrowed it. Turning off the burner, I reached up on the key hook and took down Andi's key and headed for the door.

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The sun sneaks through the blinds and one of the warm rays reaches down to caress my cheek. I yawn and stretch, rolling over onto my stomach quietly so as not to wake you. I smile remembering the party we had last night...good friends and lots of wine. My eyes flutter open and I greet the new day, propping myself up on my elbow to watch you for a bit. You lie peacefully next to me, sound asleep, unaware of my eyes skimming over your body.

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I was baby-sitting for Angela and Neil Reynolds. They're both in their early thirties, which is a bit surprising seeing that their kids are so young. They apparently chose to have their kids fairly late. Neil is nice. A charming gentleman, in the true meaning of the word. He's all smooth and suave and kind. Always polite, and I've never heard him run anyone down. Angela, on the other hand, is a bitch, studying to be the queen of bitches.

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I was stretched along Andrew closely, embracing him with one arm, while I stroked his ass with the supersized lubricated cock dildo. He was making all of the right noises, but I could sense that the passion just wasn't totally there. He wasn't writhing or trembling as he had been doing for years under the attention of my own cock.

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"Come on, Jennifer, give me some," was the standard plea from my husband Duke. Not that I minded making love with him, heck, we'd been together 8 years and had made love countless times in a variety of places. But this was Tiffany's wedding day and we were late for the ceremony. I was dressed in my perfect outfit, with perfect hair and perfect make up. I looked good.

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Entry Way QuickieNikki walked in the front door and before she could turn to close it, she found herself backed against the entry way wall. Hands began to roam over her body and in the darkness she felt her lover's lips meet her own.

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Paul's a mate of mine. He's a genuine nice guy and that surprises people when they find he's a mate of mine. Most people think I'm a bit of a bastard, but Paul doesn't mind that. He just says that's who I am. Like I said, a genuine nice guy. Like me, he's in the building trade. Difference is, he's concreter, where I'm a carpenter.

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I don't claim to speak for all cock suckers but what I'm about to reveal isn't going to come as a surprise to those who have given this subject any thought at all. Married cock suckers, in general have a guilt complex! That's right. If you think about it why would a normal, healthy, married man actively seek out men to "service"? Something is rotten in Denmark.

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One of the hardest things for me to deal with in my relationship, after a year and a half of being together, is that I'm not the only one she thinks about when she's laying in bed at night. That sometimes, when she's alone, reaching down beneath the sheets to play between her legs, that it's not always me in her mind. Breathing so hard, trying to be quiet while the muscles tighten in her legs, arching her back to the waves of orgasm quaking her lower body and clenching her asshole tight with pleasure, biting her lip to keep from screaming someone else's name.

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