Your erotic stories

Could I really be doing this? I'm following some guy at a garage to the back room - seriously, the back room - where he is no doubt going to fuck my brains out. I'm watching his muscular ass ripple in his tight jeans, and I'm already unzipping my leather jacket. It was barely holding me in to begin with, and since I don't seem to be wearing anything underneath it, I'm already bouncing free by the time that my surprise lover opens the stock room door. We slip in, I slam the door closed with my foot, and he reaches for me.

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Alana drove home confused, worried, upset. So why was she also aroused, wet, nipples hardened and aching? It was Sela's comments at the bar. Off-handed, outrageous comments made under the influence of way too many tequila shots — and anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of alcohol's effect on the human brain wouldn't give a second thought to the ramblings of a thirty-something divorcée celebrating a little too enthusiastically with a couple of friends in a South Beach bar.

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I come into the house, close and lock the door, wondering what to make for dinner when I feel a hand go over my mouth from behind me as my arms are pinned at my back. I hear a deep, sexy voice that I don't recognize tell me not to scream and I won't get hurt. My body is pulled close to his body and I feel a hard bulge against my ass. Rubbing it into me, he chuckles lightly as he asks, "Do you like how that feels?

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Bobbie is 28, she is about 5'9", dark haired with beautiful eyes and long lashes. she has large firm breasts which are a D cup or more, and a ridiculously happy go lucky nature. She is one of those slightly ditsy sorts who bumbles through life without much of a plan. Basically she is gorgeous. She is also my wife's cousin!

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Wells Estate / New York / 6:37 p.m. / August 12, 2033 The crunching of the gravel stopped abruptly. Kate pulled the handbrake on her Camaro SS and gawked out the open window. Just twenty minutes (or fifteen if you could drive fast enough) outside the city, Wells Estate stood proudly. Three stories tall, the dark stone and pillars gave it a slight gothic atmosphere. It was relatively new, built in 2028, but the owner had given it an older look. Maybe 1800's, she guessed.

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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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I hadn't seen my girlfriend Erin in almost a month because of our current situations, so I was feeling really excited to be with her as I walked up the steps to her place. She lived in a small rented apartment, which she shared with two house mates, Kathy, who we got along very well with, and John, who I didn't know well but who seemed nice too. The three house mates had each just found the rooms separately, but it had turned out to be a very functional living situation.

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It was a very pleasant date, all in all. She was lovely and funny, and the curves beneath her dress made me very aware of the hopeful bulge in my jeans. She seemed shy, though, and I did not feel quite ready for 'the talk' just yet. Still, when she insisted I come in for a while, I humored her. That was my first mistake. My second was accepting the drink.

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She was lethargic from the intensity of that last orgasm. She had no idea that having his entire hand inside her would make her body explode like that. It was amazing. He had left the room a moment ago and she heard him in the bathroom, probably washing all of her cum off his hand. Her pussy clenched again with the vibrant memory. Hell, she didn't even mind the ball gag any longer. It would be so easy to fall asleep right now...

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Was it true? Did it really happen? Everyone always wants to know, don't they? It makes it hotter, doesn't it, to know that it really happened. I guess because they think if it actually happened to someone then it could happen to them, too. Well, it can. That's all I'm gonna say about my last story. It can happen to you, too, if you want it to happen.

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