Your erotic stories

Just an exhibitionist fantasy with a slight bi-curious and bondage twist: We were so looking forward to this get away. It had been a long time since Dave and I had a chance to be alone together. You know how the rat race of work and children always seem to get in the way of personal time together. But, we finally got our schedules worked out and this was going to be just our week together.

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Andrea and Mitch were enjoying their first real vacation since their honeymoon. It was late afternoon when they began to walk back from the beach, hand in hand. Mitch had a knapsack slung over one bare, sunburnt shoulder. He would blame married life and his desk-job for his complexion and physique before taking personal responsibility. He wasn't terribly out of shape, just a little thicker and a loss of the definition he'd had in college.

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I met Thomas and his wife Vera on the plane down to the Bahamas. We shared seating in first class. I was headed for a vacation and they were returning home from Houston. Thomas had an automotive paint supply company and had been in Houston setting up connections with suppliers. He was a tall older man with graying hair and a friendly outgoing personality. Even though I was half his age, we hit it off from the start.

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It was a brisk Saturday afternoon in Newport, Rhode Island. The wind blew slightly as the strong sun beamed down on the many shoppers frequenting the stores in this quaint New England town. Being August, tourists were everywhere to be seen. While most were there just for the weekend, some had owned or rented summer homes. In a slightly more secluded area, away from much of the hustle and bustle of the streets, two women sat at a patio table outside a small Italian café.

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My name is Frank, and I'm a thirty three year old, six foot tall white dude with sandy blond hair that dangles around my shoulder. I consider myself an open-minded heterosexual with occasional bisexual urges. On a recent trip to Peru, I discovered more about my sexuality than I had ever imagined.

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My wife Joan is 62 years old. She is a doctor and a dancer; her lifelong devotion to the art has kept her slim and strong, with great vitality, despite thinning skin, age spots and thickening around the middle. I am passionately drawn to her, find her very attractive, love her with a depth I never knew was possible, and want to fuck her often. (All you young people out there, just because we're old it doesn't mean we're dead.

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Hannah finished packing her things. The divorce was nearly finalized. The split was mutual, with no hard feelings. The 36 year old corporate executive closed the last box and stood in the bedroom she had shared with her soon-to-be ex husband. It was a sad ending to her fairytale life. One by one she carried the boxes away to her car. It wasn't as painful as she expected. She just didn't find the right person.

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Kevin reached for the keycard when his mother handed it to him, and fought the urge to grin. Her guilt trip had been working. After a month of insisting that he had to go on one last family vacation, because he would be going off to college and they were never going to see him, he was ready to cave. If she'd waited until he got home that evening instead of calling his cell with the offer to give him his own room, he'd be bunking up with his younger brothers.

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters are the work of the author's imagination and any similarity to actual persons or places is coincidental or used fictitiously. This is a copyrighted work which may not be reproduced in part or in whole without the author's permission. All characters are 18 years of age or more.

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Shrugging it off as a mood swing, May went up to her room and threw on a sundress, one of the only things she could wear without a bra and get away with it. "Maya! Dinner's ready!" she heard her mother call. "Coming!" she replied, making her way downstairs.

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