Your erotic stories

1 'Wow, this is some paradise huh?' My wife asked as she lay down on the sunbed and took in our surroundings; we lay next to the swimming pool, surrounded by coconut trees, only a stone's throw from the tropical, white sand and blue-green sea. 'Yeah,' I agreed as I had a quick scan of our surroundings, taking in all of the bikini-clad women as they walked around in front of us; 'this place certainly has some great views.'

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It's a bit of a librarian look, the way I wear my hair at work. All coiled up on my head, and stuck through with several of those Japanese-looking hair spikes. Not a strand is out of place, and the hair is wound and wrapped tightly into a bun roughly the size of one of those Kaiser rolls the bun it makes is easily the size of one of those Kaiser rolls.

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Friday night. I am secured in a standing position, naked and spread eagled. My ankles are secured to a spreader bar, my hands to restraints attached to new hooks she has attached to the ceiling. My wife's mouth surrounds but does not touch my pulsating cock. I tighten my groin muscles to make contact. She pulls away. "Bad boy!" She reaches down for her riding crop and slaps mildly at my balls, stretched and separated by a leather cock ring.

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Given the choice between a young, hot, ravenous stud and an older gentleman, simmering in passionate wisdom and experience, my preference will always be without a single doubt the old man. I often wonder if men realize that while a woman is walking down a street being appreciated for her eye catching silhouette, offering them a break in the usual nothing to get excited about scenery, that she may be doing a little appreciating of her own.

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"Happy Birthday." you say with a smile. Sliding a small box across the restaurant table. "What is it?" I ask. Unaware of your plan. "Your fantasy." Your eyes flash an erotic pulse as you toy with your hair. My heart skips a beat as I try to digest what you've just said. I stare at the box and then to you wondering if what you're telling me is real. After a second or two I grasp the box to pull it towards me, but you tighten your grip on it and lean in.

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"Jesus!" I bleated in my wife's ear while watching her best friend, Melissa, pull her husband's giant cock out of his shorts. They were only a few feet away from us, snuggling up on the couch across from our own, but tonight they were taking their exhibitionism to new heights. Melissa and Tommy had come over to hang out, something we've done countless times before, but, tonight things got a little heated, and it all seemed to start before I even got home from work.

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Kevin was grateful when his boss invited him home for dinner one Friday night. He had only been at the accounting firm for three months. He was fresh out of college and trying to fit in. George Jones, his boss, had built the company into one of the biggest firms in their town. Kevin was lucky to have landed there. He wasn't very social in college but in accounting that was okay. He minded his own business at work which was easy because of natural shyness and the general environment at the office.

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Most of Matt's friends went to Lauderdale, or Daytona, or somewhere typical for Spring Break, looking to abandon themselves in the slick, sunscreen- and alcohol-laced musk of ten thousand horny college kids in a space too small to contain them. Matt had another plan, though--he'd head down to the smaller towns, along the Atlantic Coast. Just as much sex in the air, but better parking. I suppose, he thought, I shouldn't complain. The mile markers whipped by as Rachel goosed the accelerator on the old Chevy wagon.

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When a man comes home to his wife and a houseful of women, it's either really good or really bad, especially when the conversation stops as soon as the door opens. And most especially when the women looking at him have those expressions suggesting they know something he doesn't (and of course they do -- it's always that way). His wife stepped forward and walked toward him.

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I was having dinner with my long time girlfriend Cassie. It was a place we had seen many times but never tried. We had heard the food was pretty good, and it was. But it seemed to be more of a hangout than a restaurant. Our table was in the middle of the room. I sat facing the door, Cassie faced the back wall. Behind me was what seemed to be an office party of some sort.

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