no category Erotic Stories

Hey everybody, I’m going through a little rough patch right now, and it’s making me remember another time I was feeling low, and a friend who helped me get through it. If you’d like to discuss this story or others, feel free to reach out!

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Though my ex and I struggled a lot, one place where we got along very well was in bed. We had a very rich sex life with a lot of roleplay. One thing my ex loved to do was to fantasize about us cheating on each other with our friends. She’d tell a story about one of my friends secretly fucking her behind my back, or one of her friends pulling me away at a party and giving me a blowjob. My ex especially liked to fantasize about her best friend, who I’ll call Dana. Dana is a slight and very beautiful East Asian woman who my ex knew for years and years. We both knew that Dana had something of a crush on me. Any time we hung out she’d stand close to me, touching my arm during conversations, and blushing if I gave her a hug.

I never realized how serio... continue reading

My flight from Tyumen was delayed by just half an hour, so I arrived in Moscow even earlier than I'd expected. The business trip was a bit rushed: the contractors signed the contract right away, so I didn't have to sit around and woo them until Friday evening. I caught a taxi and was in the elevator to my floor by three o'clock. I didn't call Marina—I wanted to surprise her, thinking she'd light up with joy when I walked into the hallway with a bouquet from the airport kiosk. I opened the door quietly, the key turning almost silently—I'd recently lubricated the lock. The hallway was dimly lit, and the scent of her perfume and something else, barely perceptible and foreign, hung on the coat rack. A man's windbreaker I'd never seen before hung on the hanger, and a pair of size 10 sneakers sat on the shoe rack. I froze and listened. From the living room came unmistakable rhythmic sounds, and a deep male voice. I quietly kicked off my shoes and walked dow... continue reading

I walked toward them, naked, my body shimmering beneath the sun with a mixture of sweat and excitement, watching their faces cycle through the most delicious mixture of confusion and lust I'd ever seen.

"Sarah..." Mark finally managed as I set the three glasses of lemonade down on the table, standing back so they could admire my large breasts, my hard nipples, the definition of my hip bones. He gestured vaguely with his hand, a helpless little wave that encompassed my entire naked body. "You're...you're naked."

I looked down at myself like I was checking the weather, then back up at him, tilting my head.

"Yeah? So?" I said, a little dismissively, walked forward, the grass cool and slightly damp under my bare feet. "It's way too hot for clothes, don’t you think?”

I straightened up, stretching my arms above my head, feeling my breasts lift and settle, watching their eyes follow the movement of my nipples. The sun was kissing my skin everywhere now, and with no fabric to trap the hea... continue reading

This desire grew out of her fantasy of a complete change of context. We rented a house in a remote village on the border of three regions—a true wilderness, where cell phone reception was limited to the porch, and only on clear days. The house was well-built, with a huge Russian stove and a separate banya (sauna) on the shore of an overgrown pond. It was the banya that became the starting point. Karina imagined herself pleasuring the three sturdy village men we hired to mend the sagging fence and fix the roof right on the wet boards of the anteroom. This idea frightened me with its uncontrollability, but it excited me with the same force that frightened me. I agreed on the condition that everything stay in this bathhouse and in this wilderness. He found candidates through the local caretaker, posing as a swinging couple. The caretaker, a seasoned man, selected three. Sergei was a forty-year-old tractor driver, broad-shouldered and on his second marriage. Denis was a young gamekeeper... continue reading

Alisa and I lingered after our last class in the half-empty classroom. It was already getting dark outside, the building was deserted, and only our voices echoed off the high ceilings. You, Andrei Viktorovich, were sitting at the teacher's desk, shuffling through some papers and frowning discontentedly as you looked at our empty report cards. Alisa was wearing a low-cut knit top with a hint of a lace top underneath, and a fitted pencil skirt that fell just above the knees. She wore suede ankle boots with a sturdy heel. I arrived in a semi-sheer peach-colored blouse tucked into black high-waisted trousers. I wore pumps with a thin stiletto heel. On the table in front of us sat three cups of cold coffee and an open box of chocolates—our modest bribe. "Girls, this won't work," you sighed, leaning back in your chair. "The semester is ending, and you're both failing my class. How are you going to pass it?" Alisa and I exchanged glances. Honestly, we both knew... continue reading

one of my guy best friends, someone ive known for years, accidentally left his phone unlocked and i saw one of his hidden folders... **TLDR: turns out hes been jerking off to me for months, looking and saving my pics and even some old bikini photos.**

honestly at first i was a bit weirded out, but thinking about it.... i got insanely turned on by the idea of my friend stroking their cock to me... i told some of my friends and apparently they all knew he had a crush on me but rumor has it his dick game is GOOOD so i wanted to see for myself.

a couple days later i was at his place and i confronted him and he told me he used to fantasize about fucking me but nothing more and he doesnt do it anymore... but things escalated a bit.

we were alone at his place and i basically jumped him. i pushed him onto his bed and we started making out, went down and pulled his cock out AND WOW HIS DICK WAS BIGGER THAN I THOUGHT.

his dick was rock hard and throbbing in my mouth. i suc... continue reading

Mid-February was gray, chilly, and incredibly winter-weary. I longed for warmth not only for my body but also for my soul. So when Sasha suggested we escape for the weekend to a country spa complex with outdoor thermal pools, I agreed without hesitation. My bags were packed in half an hour: swimsuits, robes, and a sense of anticipation. We arrived after dark. The complex, illuminated in a warm gold glow, was bathed in clouds of steam rising from the hot pools straight into the frosty sky. The contrast between the biting February air and the promise of scalding water was intoxicating in itself. After quickly changing in our room—spacious, wood-paneled, and scented with eucalyptus—we threw on white terrycloth robes and set out to explore the property. Right from the start, we were advised to start with the hammam to warm up properly. We found a marble room with a warm stone in the center, lit only by a dim starburst of fiber optics on the ceiling. Someone was already inside: through t... continue reading

My college friend, Lera, invited me out for the weekend—her husband, Sasha, and his friends had rented a large cottage by the lake to celebrate his birthday. I'd recently broken up with my boyfriend and agreed right away: I wanted to unwind, get away from it all. Lera said it would be a small group, seven or eight people, all close friends, and I got ready without a care in the world. I had to take the train, then a taxi. I put on my favorite sundress—a lightweight one with thin straps, white with tiny blue flowers, and mid-thigh length. I only wore a swimsuit underneath, because Lera had promised a sauna and a dip in the lake. The sundress was slightly see-through in the sun, but that added to the feeling of summer freedom. The cottage turned out to be large, wooden, with a terrace and a barbecue in the yard. When I arrived, Lera happily hugged me and introduced me to the guests. The group included: the birthday boy himself, Sasha; his colleague Denis, a large, bearded man of a... continue reading

My name is Seryoga. My partner, Dimon, and I work at a 24-hour supermarket on the outskirts. I'm a security guard, he's a loader. It's a night shift, from ten to eight. The job isn't particularly grim: you only get a couple of drunks a night, but you can grab something from the shelves in peace while no one's watching and spend some time on your phone. The only downside is the cameras, but we know the blind spots by heart. Our administrator's name is Vika. She's about twenty-five, and has a stunning figure. She always wears a tight skirt that falls just below her butt, a blouse a couple of buttons unbuttoned, and underneath, she wears obviously expensive lace lingerie, which Dimon and I noticed a couple of times when she bent over. She has slender legs in heels, and plump lips painted scarlet. Her hair is dark, shoulder-length. We called her "Star" among ourselves. Because for us, ordinary working people, such a woman would never be in our future.... continue reading

My name is Oleg, I'm 34. I'm a clinical psychologist by training, but I've been doing field therapy for eight years now, leaving the office. I lead small groups into the mountains, the taiga, and sometimes even the Altai Mountains. I specialize in working with psychosomatics and body blocks. I've long noticed that when you take someone out of their usual context—without mirrors, makeup, or social media—something truly happens to them. Especially with women. Especially with those who've been carrying around a shell of "I'm not pretty enough," "I'm shy," and "nobody wants me" for years. The idea of creating an off-site intensive program has matured. Five days in the mountains of Karelia, offline, focusing on body acceptance and liberation. No offices, hotel rooms, or other frills. Just forests, lakes, tents, and a sauna on the shore. I called the program "Reboot." A month before the start, I launched an ad through my former... continue reading

I’ve been looking for extra cash, so when my friend Maria told me the country club she works at needed another cart girl,I jumped on it right away. She said it was easy money: “Just be cute, smile a lot, wear a short skirt and a tight top that shows off your tits, bring the guys some drinks and their clubs, and the tips will roll in. Easy.”

Friday morning I rode with Maria to the country club. I wore my shortest white tennis skirt, a tight pink polo with the top buttons undone, and a tiny white thong underneath the skirt. Maria laughed and said, “Oh, Kayla, you’re gonna make good tips today.”

I got paired with Mike and Dave, two regulars in their early 50s. All three of us piled into one cart, me sitting in the front next to Mike and Dave in the back seat. At first, everything was pretty normal. I flirted a bit, laughed at their jokes, "accidentally" bent over so they could enjoy looking at my ass, and undid another button from my top. I was already getting a little thrilled by how... continue reading

I was sitting in the office until late, as usual. The computer light was already glaring, and it had long since gotten dark outside. Elena Sergeevna, my boss, was usually the last one to leave, but that evening she suddenly summoned me. "Come in," she said curtly into the chat. Nothing out of the ordinary, I thought. Another report, which I must have screwed up somewhere again. I walked in and immediately caught that scent—her expensive perfume and something else, barely perceptible, that always took my breath away. She was sitting at her desk in her usual office attire: a black leather skirt hugging her hips so tightly it seemed about to split, a white blouse unbuttoned one button too many, and under the desk—those same black stockings and high-heeled shoes. Black, patent leather, with a pointed toe. I tried not to look. It didn't work out well. "Sit down," she said, without looking up from the screen. Her voice was even, but it already had that note that usuall... continue reading

Hi! About six months ago, something nasty happened to me. On the one hand, it was quite scary and humiliating, but on the other, I still sometimes think about it at night and have already come several times while furiously rubbing my clit in the shower. That's probably why I finally decided to post it here. My name is Anya, I'm 23 years old, tall, slender, and brunette (177 cm tall), with long legs, a flat stomach, and a fairly athletic figure—I go to the gym a couple of times a week. My breasts are a C-plus size, firm, with small pink nipples that stand out clearly under my clothes. My face is ordinary but pretty—guys often stare at me on public transport. I work as a manager at a Moscow hypermarket, but I live in the suburbs, in a small village about forty minutes away by commuter train. Every day after my shift, I take the last "work" commuter train at 11:40 PM. It's usually almost empty—just the occasional passenger and me in my short sports skirt and tight,... continue reading

Olga worked as a senior manager in a large IT office in a business center on the outskirts of the city. She was twenty-five, and for the past six months, her back had been killing her: endless hours at the computer, poor posture, and stress. A friend recommended a private chiropractor's office on the ground floor of the same center. "There's a great chiropractor there; after seeing him, I felt like I was born again." Olga made an appointment. The first time, she entered a small but very clean office with soft lighting and the scent of essential oils. Instead of the woman she expected, she was greeted by a man of about thirty-seven—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a white short-sleeved T-shirt and scrub pants. He had a short haircut, light stubble, and a confident gaze. He introduced himself as Alexander and calmly explained that he owned the office alone, and that his partner was on maternity leave. Olga felt a little tense, but decided to let it slide. He performed a... continue reading

This was probably the most unexpected hookup I ever had in college, it felt like it truly came out of nowhere. I have a friend from high school named Austin. Austin came from a really good family, they were all nice people. We both grew up religious and at the time he was still going to church with his family every Sunday…that’s his mom, dad and his older sister. His sister is Brooke. She was a good, wholesome girl. She’d always done really well in high school and was president of the student council my junior year, when she was a senior. She’s pretty. She’s a brunette of course, with a full body, nice breasts and a great ass. During this time, Austin lived at home still and we went to college together. Our friend group would sometimes go hang out over there on the weekends.

Brooke was away at college in a different city, but would come back to town for big holidays or if it was a long weekend. This time she was back in town for Memorial Day weekend. Brooke and I had spoken a bit bef... continue reading

It had been three months since Alina broke up with Egor. The twenty-eight-year-old fitness trainer with a perfectly toned figure, toned abs, and a firm butt had firmly decided she wouldn't be in a new relationship. But, as they say, you can't fight nature. Daily workouts to the point of exhaustion and a vibrator in the shower afterwards barely saved her. Alina was wet at night, waking up from wet dreams, but a relationship? No, she didn't want that. That evening, the gym had already closed to clients. Alina decided to stay and work out herself, relieving the pent-up stress of a hard day. She changed into short, tight shorts and a sports bra that barely contained her firm, C-cup breasts. The gym was empty, the lights dim, and only the hum of the air conditioner. But when she emerged from the women's locker room, she saw Egor—her ex-lover, the owner of the gym—lingering in the office. Next to him stood his best friend, Ruslan—a true muscle-bound bodybuilder, six-foot-s... continue reading

I was on my stomach on a towel in a black bikini with my top untied because I hate tan lines, half reading something on my phone, half just listening to everyone talk. The bikini bottoms were doing what bikini bottoms do on a figure like mine, which is not much, and I was aware of that in the comfortable way you get when you've made your peace with having a lot of ass.

Caleb was down at the water with a couple of the guys throwing a football around in the surf. I was not paying attention to this. I was definitely not watching him come back up the beach shaking water out of his hair, board shorts low on his hips, stomach flat, shoulders broader than I remembered from the last time I'd seen him. Looking like that.

He dropped onto the towel next to mine and stole a chip from the bag by my elbow. I was still on my stomach, top untied, and when I shifted to look at him I felt the sides of it fall away and had to press back down quickly. He was very politely looking at my face when I glanc... continue reading

Château de Valmont, hidden in the dense vineyards of the Loire, was transformed every April into a temple for the most discerning collectors. The stone vaults of the main hall trembled with hushed voices, and the air was thick with the aroma of aged Cabernet, old oak, and expensive tobacco. I, a twenty-four-year-old sommelier, was working at this private auction for only my second time. My task was simple and honorable: introduce the lots, describe the terroir, pour into glasses, and ensure that not a drop was wasted. None of the guests noticed how I nervously twitched my fingers behind my back as the price of yet another bottle of 1947 soared. The auction proceeded as usual—the gavel banged, the glasses clinked, and I stood at the long table with decanters, smiling and nodding. No one suspected that below me, two floors down, in the ancient wine cellar, a completely different game was already underway. After the last lot, as guests began to disperse to the terrace with cigars, the... continue reading

The train pulled out, and my pussy was already wet, anticipating the journey. Two days to Vladivostok, a compartment, a ticket for the top berth. I spotted my neighbors right away: across from him was a sturdy man of about forty, lean, with sinewy arms, clearly the type who spends his life outside the office. Next to him was a younger guy, just a boy, about twenty, with a hungry gaze that immediately landed on my breasts the moment I took off my jeans. And from below, in the side bunk, a third man was already peering in—a demobilized soldier, judging by his haircut and mannerisms, returning home after a year of abstinence. I adjusted the strap of my top, letting the lace of my bra peek out just enough to make the boy gulp, and climbed onto my bunk, wiggling my legging-clad ass in front of my fellow passengers. The evening promised to be languid. By ten thirty, the train's whistle was humming steadily, and the main lights in the car were dimmed, leaving only blue nightlights. The... continue reading

The pool is a special aquarium in the evenings. By evening, the water is as smooth as glass, the lights are dimmed, and only the steady hum of the pumps breaks the silence. My group of adults had left about twenty minutes ago, and I was about to close the door when she appeared on the edge. Marina. The only one of them all wearing a tailored swimsuit, but it fit so well that every man on the path instinctively held his breath as she emerged from the water. She was in her early thirties, with a ring on her finger and a son whom she sometimes brought along. She was married, happy, and fit. Judging by the occasional exchange, everything was going well with her husband: a comfortable house, a mortgage, and a vacation in Turkey. But there was something else about her. A kind of hungry pucker at the corner of her mouth when she thought no one was watching. The way she lingered after practice, swimming closer than necessary when I explained stroke technique. That evening she asked me to he... continue reading