Your erotic stories

Tina arrived home to a quiet house. She knew her girlfriend Shay was home not only because her car was in the driveway, but Shay had called her at work and told her to hurry home for a surprise.

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Mike and Michelle had already been married a year and they had finally saved enough money to purchase their first house. They were proud of themselves. The papers had been signed, and at long last they were moving in. They had dreamed and talked and shared. Then they dreamed and talked and shared some more. Their furniture had just been moved in and tonight was going to be their first night in their new home. They were excited.

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"Ahhh, that were very nice," I said with a deep, satisfied sigh, as I spilled my seed down Des's chin. We were in the boathouse on the lower lake, here because Des had wanted me to fuck him. But now we'd have to sit and talk for a bit, listening to the racing shells grind against the dock outside in the bit of a squall that had come up over Sandhurst. It would take me a few to recharge.

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"I can't believe you're making me do this," Natalie said as she stood on the hotel balcony at three a.m. with the wind blowing through her strawberry-blonde hair. Her eyes scanned the parking lot, and though she didn't see any signs of life, someone down in the darkness would be a lot harder to see than she would be on the balcony — dimly lit as it was. She could see the excitement in Gene's eyes as he caressed her shoulder. "You lost the bet fair and square."

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Shortly after I turned thirty-nine my mother died suddenly of a coronary thrombosis. Dad had died seven years earlier. So since my brother Kenny, a journalist and my only sibling, was living in London at the time, and my daughter was in her second year of college, I was left alone with the task of going through my mother's things and deciding what should be kept and what should be thrown away.

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She wakes, quietly but thoroughly, her hand cupping one soft, breast, the nipple hard and elongated beneath her palm. Her fingers sweep out and under, trailing butterfly touches along the sensitive underside of her breast. Squeezing gently, her eyes seek the stiff red tip, measuring the length of her arousal. Her dreams are wisps of ether, hints of sexual longings and sweet couplings. She already feels aroused.

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She was sitting in a booth, facing the front door. I walked up to her and smiled. She was still beautiful, maybe even more so. Her hair was not as long as she wore it when she was a young woman; now it was just above her shoulders in a very chic, professional cut.

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As we pulled up to my house I enjoyed the fact that no bicycles were strewn on the driveway and no soccer goal stood on the lawn. Just my wife and I at home tonight, with no kids to interrupt and no reason to try and maintain any appearances. I had been looking forward to this for weeks. I got out of the car and turned to say goodnight to my neighbor from down the street.

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When I walked into the club for Gina's bachelorette party, I was too frazzled from work to wonder who else might be there. I'd left the office closer to seven than six, ran home to change into my one appropriate dress, and now I was late. A broken chunk of sidewalk almost made me later, but I managed not to fall. I was sure I looked ridiculous as I stumbled towards the door, but I got in without further trouble.

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When Rachel had arrived in Paris, she had never imagined she would end up here. But here she was, in a strange woman's house waiting for her first threesome. Jason looked down at her and smiled. She smiled back, albeit a little tentatively. She had met Jason in the train station and had gone home with him the first night she was here. She couldn't imagine ever doing that back home. This trip though was so she could get away from who she was.

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