Erotic Stories

What a beautiful summer day! It was early afternoon and I was out in the back yard doing the regular weekly chores on the flower beds and lawn. Jim, our new neighbor was also out doing the same in his yard. I knew his first name when he had introduced himself a few months back as he moved in. We hadn’t really shared much else since except a casual node of recognition when we passed each other in our normal day to day activities. Jim looked to be about 35, physically fit, dark complexion, dark hair, and a relatively good looking guy. The only other thing I knew was that he was single. He seemed to like puttering around his house and enjoyed looking after the yard as well. Not exactly your average single guy! We’d been at it for almost 2 hours. Jim had come out into his yard just after I’d started. I’d had enough for a while so I threw down the rack and called over to Jim. “Heh neighbor! do you feel like taking a break?” Jim turned to me and said” Yea, that would be great.” I told him to come on over and I’d get us something cold to drink. He jumped the fence as easy as if it were just a foot high, came over to the patio and said ” Thanks, I could use something cold. I told him to grab one of the lounge chairs and I’d be right back. I went into kitchen through the patio doors to get the beverages. Beth was at the sink preparing vegies for supper. Beth and I have been married since she was eighteen and I was nineteen. She is 38 now. Both of us were virgins when we met, so we were each others first and only until present day. We both enjoy sex and have explored many fun aspects of sex through the years. Beth is 5′7″ tall. For the most part she has kept her figure over the years. If anything she has filled out in all the right places, making her even more tantalizing. She is blond, blue eyed and has beautiful 38C breasts with very large aureoles and nipples that turn up. Her breasts are very sensitive and she loves having them played with. She keeps her pussy shaved up to the top of her slit and then trims the bush on her mound so that it is no more than a quarter of an inch long. Her pussy lips are very pronounced, sticking out a couple of inches. They hide a larger than normal clit which when aroused swells up to be the size of a large cherry. She loves having it sucked like a small cock. Today she was wearing a halter top and shorts. She looked gorgeous in them. Beth said she noticed that Jim was over.

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It’s a hundred dollars to use the sex machine in the public restroom. Insert a couple of fifty-dollar coins into the payment slot to remain anonymous, though of course it’s more convenient to just let the data terminal do a neural scan and auto-debit your account. A hundred bucks buys ten minutes. Upon payment approval, the mirror slides back, revealing an oval opening. Depending on the option chosen, the window gives access to either bare buttocks or an erect penis. That leaves the customer the choice of either penetrating or being penetrated. I’m pretty conventional in my preferences, so I usually choose BUTTOCKS-FEMALE, and, depending on my mood at the moment, insert my hard flesh either into the exposed pussy or asshole. Every once in a while, I get an itch deep inside my gut and touch the selector for PENIS-(LARGE). Then I give in to my deepest, darkest desires and scratch that damn itch by easing myself down on a hard cock. There’s also the BUTTOCKS-MALE option for those preferring to fuck male ass. I’ve indulged in that often enough, but still find little difference between the sensation of being inside a male or a female ass. Real connoisseurs, though, claim that plundering a man’s ass is the caviar of sex. Active-penetrative sex, anyway. That’s probably somewhat of an exaggeration. I stepped onto the Mu-metal platform and fed the last of my carefully hoarded spare change into the slot. I prefer the anonymity that cold, hard cash gives, and anyhow my e-bucks account has been flatlining lately. Being jobless does have its disadvantages. The autosensing hydraulics adjusted my elevation to optimal height opposite the service window. This puts the customer’s groin (or ass) directly opposite the the opening. What would I choose this time? Well, why not? Since I was now flat broke, I might as well have caviar. I stroked the keypad and the window gave me access to a perfect ass. Slowly, reluctantly I withdrew out of that buttery-smooth, pleasure-giving orifice. Caviar indeed! I was still horny and ready for another go, but my time was up. And I had other concerns. Such as where my next meal would come from and where I was going to sleep tonight. I girded my loins, drew on my breathing mask, and steeled myself to step out into the cold, heartless night. I had to admit it — I was an addict. A sex addict. I was no damn good at all at relating to real people, so that pretty much left the sex machines for physical release. And an unfortunate side-effect of being such a boob in social situations was that I couldn’t hold down a job for very long. If there’s anything more pitiful than a sex addict, it’s got to be a friendless, jobless, *flat broke* sex addict. I was about to go cry in my beer — if I could scrounge together enough for a beer, that is — when I caught the flashing notice on the sex machine display screen. NOW HIRING. Sex Machines, Inc. [SM, Inc.] has openings for Customer Service associates. Earn a good wage doing something you enjoy! Choose your own hours. No experience necessary.

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I’m a lesbian and have never tried to hide it. I mean, I don’t go out knocking doors in the neighborhood proclaiming that I’m a lesbian, but if somebody were to ask me if I was, I would say yes. Now my partner Valerie is different. She works at a school and if it ever got out that she liked women, her career would be over, at least that’s what she thinks. So when I got home from work, and started to ask how her day was I could see that she was visibly shaken, so I asked, “what’s the matter baby?”. It was then that she handed me the envelope, and as she did the pictures fell out on the floor. “Oh my God it’s us” I screamed. It was pictures of us making love in the living room. I was trying to rack my brain how somebody could’ve taken our pictures because we live on the 10th floor of a high rise apartment. The closest building was quite a ways away. Then I read the note. It said unless we paid them they would report my partner to the school and she would lose her job. We were to expect them that night. As we both went to the balcony and tried to figure out how they could have taken pictures, we heard the buzzer to the intercom indicating that it had to be the dirty bastard who took the pictures and I was furious. As Val went to answer the buzzer I went to do a couple of things to prepare for our visitor. I returned to the living room to see a woman about 18 years old, dressed like a school girl, and carrying another envelope. She told us in case we had torn the pictures up that she had extra copies, and that she wanted money and to also see us up close having sex.

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This is to let all of the husbands out there know that watching your wife have sex with another man is not all it’s cracked up to be. My wife and I have been married to each other for almost 25 years now. We were both virgins when we got married so neither one of us had ever been with another person before. We were both in High school when we met and we got married just after we graduated. I guess my fantasizing about watching her have sex with another man started when we met and I read story after story in the Penthouse Forum about men who loved to watch their wives have sex with other men. They all said how big a turn on it was for them, so naturally it bcame a big turn on for me. I first mentioned it to my wife about 15 years ago and she wasn’t too keen on the idea. I kept mentioning it inter- mittently to her over the years and then about 5 years ago brought the subject up more and more often. Then in the last year or so, that is all I would talk about when we had sex. She was never very hot on the idea but she was warming to the point where one night she finally said she would do it for me if this is what I really wanted her to do. I assured her that there is nothing I wanted more so she said ok. Friday night was our anniversary so I decided to go through with it. I called her from work and told her that because this was our anniversary, that I wanted her to be dressed very sexily for me when I got home. She said yes, little knowing that I was going to be bringing someone home with me. After work I stopped by a bar not far from our home and went in to find someone who could help me out with my fantasy. It wasn’t long before I struck up a conversation with a big guy that was obviously a body builder.

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Sara walked into the hotel bar. There were still a lot of delegates milling around, but at first she didn’t think there was anyone she knew. Oh well, no drink then, just straight to bed. She was actually leaving the room when she bumped into Beth, who looked tired, but managed a smile at Sara. “Hi, how’s it going?” Beth asked. Sara was surprised Beth had even recognised that Sara was on the bid team. Beth ran the whole show, and Sara was just a summer intern filling in time before her first year at university. But then it was typical of Beth to know that kind of detail. She was an impressive lady, and all the more so because despite her success in business she seemed, so far as Sara was able to tell, to be a decent person too. And pretty, and a husband and two kids. At 42 Beth seemed to have it all. Sara sighed. One day. “Fine, thanks,” Sara replied. She wasn’t sure what she was meant to say. “How do you think the presentation went?” asked Beth. Again, Sara was surprised. Why the hell did Beth care what Sara thought? “Well I thought it was pretty good, but maybe too many figures and not enough vision thing.” It was bold to criticise, but what the hell, it was a summer job, and Beth had asked. “Ha.” Beth didn’t seem upset. “I thought so too. You’re our summer intern right?” Sara nodded. “Is it Sara?” Sara really was impressed. “Listen, I think I’m done here, and I hate this kind of alcoholic gladhanding anyway. Care to have a nightcap in my suite? You can remind me what it’s like to have it all ahead.” *** Walking into Beth’s suite, Sara was sure Beth couldn’t know how excited Sara was at this invitation. Not so much because she was having a private drink with the boss, although Sara was ambitious enough to want to grasp any opportunity offered. No, the root of Sara’s excitement was much baser. Although Sara’s sexual experience with other women was fairly limited, there was something about Beth that turned her on badly. It was maybe Beth’s grace, her poise, the fact that she always looked immaculate but not as if she’d made too much effort. And the fact that, although her face showed the lines of her age, she still had a neat, sexy figure.

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Newcastle University was great, away from home, meeting new people and being able to do what I wanted without having to justify everything in front of my parents. I enrolled in Business Management and enjoyed both my fellow students and the course. Apart from studying hard, I spend most of the time hanging around with my friends at the student union or in one of the many bars in Town. Each Friday night most of the students went to the student union. It was always a hugh party with the large dance floor in the basement, the two bars on the ground floor and another dance floor on the top floor. Where as the basement was know for pop and house, the top floor offered a much more relaxing but also more exciting. The music was better, a much more interesting mix of various styles like industrial, dance and independent. I am not to much into music but I enjoyed it more upstairs, where the lightning wasn’t so flashy and the girls more grown-up. That particular Friday Dan, Mike and I walked first to the sports bar on the ground floor.

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Pete was a gorgeous guy who had his pick of women. I fact, he usually picked more than one of them. This may not seem like a problem to some, but I’m sure his wife wouldn’t have been to happy to find out. as for me, I was more limited in opportunities. But I knew I would never have to worry about ‘picking’ again was I was soon to have my own wife. Her name was Michelle, and with an unlimited pick of women, I would have chose her. She was beautiful, soft, and sexy. I wondered how I had landed a girl whose medium-length blonde hair glowed in the sun, whose face captivated the eyes of every man who beheld it, whose breasts turned heads with their side-to-side bobbing as she walked. She was incredible, and soon to be my wife. Michelle had told me something of Pete, and the only time they had ever met. It was at a party, and Michelle told me she knew the instant she saw him she was going to fuck him. (This was when we first met, before we started dating. I don’t think I could have handled this after I fell in love with her.) “I wasn’t the prettiest girl there.” she had explained to me. “So I knew I would have to be the most aggressive.” I don’t think any man could resist her aggression.

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The sun streamed through the tall, thick panes of glass to fall on half a dozen canvases in varying stages of completion. The angle of the late afternoon light set a diffuse golden tone in the high-ceilinged room that made the paint colors deeper and more intense. Chase glanced at her delicate watch, and then gave a final word of instruction to the young man standing before her. “All right class, that will be it for the day. Good work everyone. Remember, the studio will be open for after-hours work on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays beginning next week and running until the start of the exhibition.” It was mid-fall in New Hampshire, a beautiful time of year when the trees were just starting to reach peak foliage color. Chase taught most of the advanced fine arts courses at the small, exclusive college nestled in the White Mountains. She was young for a professor, only 29, but had already achieved a measure of success in a few small galleries, and had recently been invited to join the faculty after receiving an advanced degree from a renowned school in Paris. She glanced up at the row of offices lining the south wall of the room at the second story. Actually they were more like finely appointed cubicles, since there were no walls between them – nor even anything separating them from the painting studio.

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