Your erotic stories

"Just a sec babe." Sophia looked at Richard in surprise as her husband tried to get out of bed. They had been in Tokyo for two weeks now for Richard's MMA Fight and had planned to go to the Fuji Mountains today. But, as his opponent had been switched at the last second last night, he had gotten really beaten up before making the number one contender for the middle weight belt submit, that Sophia had already resigned herself to not going today.

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Janet Kinsella was newly divorced and happily so. She had been married for 23 years, some happy, some not so, until she had found out that her husband had had a string of discreet but plentiful affairs. After confronting him, he announced that he found everything about Janet bland, nonsensical and boring. She had calmly packed his bags the following day whilst he was at work, put them in the garden, called a locksmith, had all the locks changed and then got in her car and driven to the coast.

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The blonde couple were pressed against the wall at the end of the carriage. He against the window, she against his back, blank rear wall of the carriage against the right shoulder of each. Surrounding them were dusky men. Some in Dhotis, some in shorts, all in sandals. Most of the men faced the girl, some to press against her, some to merely look. She had a pretty, shapely, figure, and her brief floppy shorts and sleeveless T left little of her charms to be imagined. They were on honeymoon. Dave and Nicci Saunders were their names.

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Peter was dozing on the London bound train. It was 8.30 on Friday evening. He had had a busy week's work, and as he had nothing planned for the weekend, he had decided at the last minute to head into London in search of some fun. Aged 25, tall, good-looking with shortish, dark hair, he had little problem in pulling girls when he had the mind for it, but had no interest at present in a long term relationship.

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After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the door of Michelle's bedroom creaked open just enough for my short brunette girlfriend to stick most of her head out while one small hand wrapped around the door. Her shoulder-length medium-brown hair fell forward as her piercing eyes peered right at me as she mustered up the nerve to step out, her mouth obscured by the door and her hand. The only other things I could see in that moment were her toes as they protruded through the front of deep-blue shoes that I could tell were high heels.

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