Your erotic stories

After finishing work for the day I headed over to mom's, where you had spent the day cooking with mom. Since dad passed you had been going over weekly to cook and hang out. I walked right in and heard laughter right away. Apparently you guys had gotten into some wine and we're both a little tipsy.

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I was just going peacefully about my business and there comes this knock on the door. Naturally, I ignored it. I was busy. Apparently, whoever it was had seen me moving around inside, because they were persistent, and noisy. Too damn noisy. The way that idiot was banging on the door they'd start disturbing the neighbours, and I didn't want that, so reluctantly I answered.

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For the life of her, Fiona Barrymore could not imagine why she kept attending these things. She had been with Spicer Industries for longer than she cared to remember, working her way up from receptionist to senior vice-president, and yet she could not remember a single Christmas party that was anything more than a wonderful cure for insomnia.

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My wife of 40 years has always been reserved when it comes to non traditional sex. That's never stopped me from hoping though. About a year ago, she switched jobs to a project manager for a software firm here in Colorado. She really liked the work as well as the people she worked with. Her boss was a good guy about her age and they hit it off early.

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My job had moved my wife and I halfway across the country about a year ago. The part that sucks is that we had a great group of friends at home. The lucky part is that, being in our thirties, most of our friends can afford to visit and have made the trip for long weekend visits. I'm 35, about 6'2" and 210 pounds. My wife Ally is 32, 5'6" and about 115 pounds. We both are very active, and she has a very fit physique. Nice shoulders, muscular arms, runners legs, and a pert little B cup, she's definitely my type of girl.

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I'd seen Deborah all over town from time to time, and knew her casually. She is in her early to mid thirties, a tall woman, married and the mother of three. She's always been the picture of motherhood, doing all sorts of things to support and raise her children and doing them virtually as a single mom. Oh, she's married but her husband is more married to his work and his cronies than to her and his children.

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I heard him pull into the driveway and quickly jumped up to greet him at the door. I was in desperate need to feel him, not just inside of me, but on me as well. I had spent the better half of my afternoon preparing myself for him to come home. I decided I would stay in my attire of that day's errand running, just jeans and a black spaghetti strap tank top.

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Her parents called me cold. Not to my face of course, I heard them in one of those moments I wasn't supposed to. In a not so unguarded moment her mother screamed at me that I was a monster for taking there daughter away from them, her husband managed to calm her and move her away from me before apologizing. His eyes gave him away, he agreed all to well with his wife's opinion of me. But to do this now and on the day of Angie's funeral was simply not acceptable.

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"You don't think it's a big deal that you fucked your own brother?" was all Sarah's mother could say. The moment the sentence left her mouth, she realized how absurd it was. Sarah rolled her eyes, "It wasn't like that! They were just hookups. We followed the rules. It is NOT a big deal!"

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"So, what did you have in mind?" you ask with a coy smile. I thought about the evening out from which we just returned. The kids were away for the night. We had been flirting and teasing each other all night, and I could feel the sexual tension between us. I knew you could feel it too. I could see it in the way you had been looking at me. In the way you slowly unbuttoned your heavy coat when we walked through the door, one button at a time, watching me until it was open and you let it drop to a chair.

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