Your erotic stories

"You'll really suck my cock if someone answers this ad?" Alex turned towards Naomi. She brushed strands of hair back from her face and smiled wider. "You have to get fucked in the ass, yes. But I'll do more than suck that cock of yours if someone answers this ad." Alex licked his lips at the thought. Smiling, he looked at Naomi. She was bent over, giving him a view of her luscious ass in tight jeans. He licked his lips. "You're serious?"

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My wife and I had been together for several years. Among our friends were the obligatory one or two exes. In particular was my ex fiancé. One week, she was feeling especially down so we decided to invite her out with us to the comedy club for some laughs and a few drinks.

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Lynn and I have been married for forty-one years and even though we're in our sixties, I'm sixty-five, she's sixty-two, we sure haven't given up on sex. For her fortieth birthday, I gave Lynn a new pair of boobs and she did it just right, had them brought back up to spec without blowing them up like a porn star. So, naked, she looks good, really good.

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"I can't believe that you two are leaving me next week. You guys are just the most horrible people in the world." "We know, its what adds to our charm." Jason flashed his award winning smile. "I'm serious, you two don't know how much my life is going to suck after you guys move off to college." Together, that's the worst part Chelsea thought to herself.

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Every year William and I hold our "Come as You Bizarre" party. Everyone is required to dress in a way they never would in real life, in a way that would make their friends laugh, cry or recoil in shock. Last year I was a Playboy bunny, the year before, a scantily clad wench. This year, I chose a skin tight black wet-look catsuit, one that showed off every single curve of my body.

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I always looked up to Blaine; she was like the big sister I never had. Blaine taught me everything, from how to walk in heels to getting a guy to pay for your drinks. I really loved it; hell, I loved her. It killed me to admit it, but I really did. Not in the awkward way a brother loves a sister, or the passionate way a husband loves a wife, but in a secret, silent way that was embarrassing to think about.

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"Gretchen, are you sure everything's okay? Ever since we got here you've been acting so... nervous! It's okay to relax, you know. I mean, the conference is over. And I don't know about you, but I'm planning on celebrating tonight!" I smiled at Lauren – she was sweet to encourage me to relax, and I did want to let loose. More than she knew.

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While I was working in an empty apartment today a painter showed up to prep the walls. He was in his mid to late twenties. Short spikish dark hair with sideburns and a goatee. His lightly tanned muscular arms were covered in tattoos. He had a sleeveless shirt and loose boardshorts on, with leather flip flops.

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My wife, Natasha, is Russian, and originally came here as a work exchange student. We fell in love her first summer here. She was a virgin, and I was her first. We kept in touch when she returned to her university, and she came back the next summer. We lived together that summer, and got married at the end of it! Our sex life was awesome from the start. But we are both very sensual people, and a dispute arose.

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Dusk was turning into night as Beth Wilson approached the driveway to her detached garage. She smiled. She'd been smiling a lot lately; at least over the past 6 days since "The Night" with Bob. "I can't believe it's been less than a week since I discovered Nancy and Louise in bed with Bob," she thought. That discovery led to a fantastic night of sex between Beth, her daughter Nancy, Nancy's best friend Louise, and Bob. Oh, God, BOB!

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