Your erotic stories

Chapter 1 It was a warm early summer day, the kind of day you look forward to all winter long, so I cashed in a vacation day. A bike ride along the coast would be just the ticket on a day like today. I stopped for a quick breakfast before heading out to one of my favorite areas, looking forward to cruising along the narrow cottage-lined streets.

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Chapter One When I met my wife, Susan, she was a sweet, toe headed girl who seems entirely too nice to be in the bar that I frequented with a group of buddies, we were all there for one reason, get laid. I had gone up to speak with her for just one reason, she just seemed out of place. Out of all the freaks and sluts, I'd met there; she was a shining star in the middle of a dark day, a beacon of innocence.

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We were an average couple, married for about ten years, busy with our lives and maybe looking for a bit of excitement. We had discussed swapping partners, or at least I had tried to introduce the topic, but Jill was always quick to change the topic. That's why this turn of events took us both by surprise.

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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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Part One With hot shower water still steaming off of him, he looks down at the clothes laid out on the bed -- the usual trousers, white shirt and tie, socks... "Honey?" he shouts into the next room. A few seconds later his wife appears, poking her pale, bright eyed face through the doorway. She has a mischievous grin on her face already.

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Sitting in the airport is never much fun, regardless of the reason behind traveling. I'm a seasoned traveler though and even despite all of the new security measures and increasing delays, it seems that I'm at the airport more often now than not. In fact, with my relatively new job, I'm traveling more now than ever. But who's complaining, right? After all, it's putting food on the table. I've never been one to complain too much anyway.

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It's Wednesday morning and I wake up early. It's the one day of the week I stay home and look after our toddler. Carrie is working part time, keeping in touch with her job as an academic so she can take up full time work again in a couple of years. Our little one goes to crèche two and a half days a week and I (being a sensitive new age guy) take care of her on Wednesdays. That way Carrie gets three days a week at the university.

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My lover has an Afrikaans accent. His breath whispers against my neck as he speaks gruffly in my ear, pinning me to the living room wall. I push my behind into his groin as he cups my tits, groaning he is "so glad he met me." It's a rainy summer's night, all sticky and we're slick with sweat. We're both in singlets, he's in jeans and I can feel his thick length as he nestles it between my shorts clad cheeks.

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My husband and I always looked forward to the NASCAR season. This goes back to the day we met while camping in Rock City for the race at Charlotte. Every season we tried to make it to as many races as we could, camping out in the off field campgrounds and enjoying the total NASCAR experience. As time went on, and we became more successful, our camping equipment went from tents, to pop-up trailers, to a fifth wheel trailer then on to our current luxury motor home.

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The sound of the door opening and your chuckle made me shake my head. I rolled my eyes when you said, "Yeah baby." "Whatever," was my response to you. I heard your tool belt hit the floor, and I turned to look back. Your hands were on your belt. "Don't even," I said, with a smile. "Well, you can't greet me like that and not expect something," you told me.

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