Your erotic stories

The club is crowded tonight, and hot. The press of bodies, half-naked and gleaming, is a feast. The warm brush of flesh against flesh is a fever. Bodies clashing and rubbing become a furnace fueling my desire. As I make my way to the bar, threading carefully through the throng, my hand touches a shoulder here, a well-muscled chest there, my bottom brushing against the crotch of someone behind me as I squeeze through a small corridor.

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"What's this?" I say pulling my long silky black hair up and in a loose bun. "I hope you like shrimp scampi, Ms. Lily," Josh offers. He turns from the stove wearing only an apron and drops to his knees and crawls behind me. It's six-thirty p.m. and my houseslut pushes his tongue the length of the crack of my perfectly-tight bottom all the way to small of my back.

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I knew I shouldn't be looking, but I couldn't help myself. Kim had closed the door to her office and pulled the blinds, stopping anyone from seeing into her office. We worked in an 'L' shaped office and Kim and I each occupied the first office on side of the L, essentially allowing me to see in through her outside window from my own.

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In those days, I didn't wear underwear. I had long hair down to the small of my back. I was in good shape, lean and muscular, a bike rider with thick legs and a laid-back demeanor. You probably know the type. So a certain kind of woman often responded to me. A certain kind of man, too, although I'd never given that a thought. For my part, here's what I liked in a woman: Natural, sensual. smart. Sexual intellectuals. Open and daring, although even if they weren't, I usually got them there pretty quick.

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When I was eighteen a young couple moved in next door. Bruno and Maxine Steinhouse, and their four-year-old son Victor moved to our community from New York. Bruno was a cop and had been named Chief of our small rural northern community police department.

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I was relieved when the flight attendants finally opened the doors, allowing the passengers to disembark from the plane. The flight itself hadn't been too bad, but I was tired of sitting in one spot for so long and the prospect of being able to stretch my legs had me antsy. Grabbing my backpack from the overhead bin, I began shuffling forward.

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It started out as a fantasy. I'd stumbled across a website that provided an in-depth and intriguing view on the psychology of cuckolding. Originally a 'cuckold' was a man with an unfaithful wife. It was a scornful epithet back in the day. But more recently, it's evolved into a fetish - a fetish often practiced by intellectuals and those looking for more than just the physical parts of being in a relationship.

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PRELUDE The door opened and Jake Connors entered the duplex that he owned. He headed for the kitchen in search of one of his tenants Rachel. Her husband George had already left for work. Jake found Rachel in the kitchen and she was starting to clean up after breakfast. He studied her shapely figure for a few minutes before he spoke.

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On the third try I managed to get the key into the hole and unlock my apartment door. Amazing what half-a-dozen Malibu and Diet Cokes will do to a girl's head. I stepped inside with my two new pets hot on my tight little tail. I had decided that one cock just wasn't going to be enough for me tonight, so I brought home two.

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We have never been the type of people to be worried about showing our bodies. We have always walked about the house naked, even when the kids were still at home it was just as natural for them as it was for us. Dave and I have always made love with the lights on, in just about every room in the house and, yes, of course we have fucked outdoors as well! I just do not understand how some people can spend a lifetime making love in the dark.

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