Your erotic stories

"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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The windows of the car were already steamy as she climbed into her boyfriend Steve's vehicle, passenger side. "Hey, Katie. How ya doin?" Who was that? Katie looked into the back seat of the car just before she sat down, then she looked over at Steve, a look of concern on her pretty rounded face. "Hi, Trevor," she said over her shoulder, trying to sound casual. "Katie, you don't mind Trevor hanging out with us, do you?"

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Barbara Clausen stepped from her car and handed the keys to the valet. He took them and handed her a receipt. Giving the young man a smile, she headed for the glass doors leading into the restaurant side of the sprawling building. She saw her image reflected in the glass. She also saw the young man pausing before getting into her car to park it. He was watching her with a bit of admiration on his face.

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Let me tell you about a party we had a few years back. Every year at our house my wife Dawn and I hosted a Christmas party for my employees. This one particular party was going to be the last one though because I had sold my company to a guy that had a pocket full of cash.

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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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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 had literally creamed myself almost nightly for Phil's body, but Phil was about as straight as they come—and getting all the female tail he could handle if all the talk around campus was true. We were both attending the university on athletic scholarships—Phil on a football and baseball scholarship and me on a wrestling scholarship, wrestling being a good way for me to get down and dirty with other hot, sweating, muscular dudes.

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The whole thing was Margaret's idea, not mine. You could say I was more a reluctant victim rather than an eager participant. It was late spring and the weather was warming up nicely. Still too cold to go to the beach in my opinion, but it wouldn't be long. It was a Saturday afternoon, reasonably warm, and Margaret came around with her bright idea. She wanted to go to the beach and get an early start on a suntan.

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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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"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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