Your erotic stories

Teresa was sitting at home alone, reading yet another dirty book about a horny house wife who was being gang-banged at a party... for some reason she just got so turned on by the idea of being taken by more than one guy. Not that she was a horny housewife, just a regular 22 year old girl... but it was her dirty little hidden fantasy.

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"Steph?" Sean walked through the front door of the house he shared with his girlfriend as he and his buddies Kyle and Brock walked in the door. All of them were still in uniform since they had been in a hurry to get home and watch the game and had needed to make the necessary pit stops for pizza and beer. Sean had expected Steph to be hanging out in the living room waiting for them to get home but she wasn't there.

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Eli was hosting movie-night Thursday, just like every other Thursday the four friends, Eli, Chris, Eric, and Molly, had spent for the last two years. Tonight it was Chris's pick, another bloody horror fest, his favorite. When Chris picked a movie, everyone knew they were going to go home sick. He picked these cult classics, gross-out exploitative flicks that might as well have been snuff films.

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Jill walked in, still in her work clothes. She wore a blue dress shirt and dark gray skirt. Her outfit was conservative but showed off her curves nicely. She spotted me and came over. I noticed a guy at the far end of the bar watching her. I didn't blame him. It was hard to ignore Jill. She's tall and slender attracts a lot of attention with her high heels and assertive aura.

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Behind closed doors, lots of guys enjoy sharing their wives/girlfriends. As a single white American, I'd been fairly lucky in my years living in Japan. I met quite a few Japanese as well as foreign couples who have included me in sexual get-togethers. I'm definitely not a male model, just a regular schmo. But I was always gracious, polite and charming. I made it a rule to always be respectful and reliable.

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I'm in bed waiting for you while you brush your teeth, wash your face, all those little personal tasks at the very end of the day. I'm wearing a not-too-interesting light woven cotton shortie top and panties, lying on my back, drifting off to sleep. I know you're naked, it's a hot summer night and you never wear pajamas, anyway. I feel the bed shift when you sit down. "Don't do anything," you say. "Just turn your head away and pretend like I'm not here."

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It began with a fire in the upstairs Lingerie Department of my local Debenhams department store. Something in the adjacent restaurant had exploded in a ball a flame, and the first thing I knew was one of the attendants grabbing me by the arm and hauling me out of my cubicle. To say the situation was inopportune would be a gross understatement.

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