The Best Erotic Stories.

Living Room Lust
by Amee

Michael and I had known each other since we were in elementary school. We had dated off and on since high school, and lived together for three years. We did everything together. Avid outdoors people, we camped, fished, snowboarded, and mountain biked. We went on long drives in the country, read the newspaper to each other, held hands on walks down the beach. We were the perfect couple - everywhere except the bedroom. Though he's always been the sexiest man I've ever met, sex between us wasn't as good as it should have been. Our sex life wasn't awful - it was just, well, bland. Sex between Michael and I was quiet, placid, and to the point. What foreplay we did have was mechanical and ineffective. When he was done, he would kiss me and roll over, leaving me unfulfilled.

I love Michael, but sex was very important to me. I talked it over with Andrea, a friend of mine who dated Michael. She was shocked at my description of our sex life. When he was with her, she said, he was a wild man. She described the encounters they had in her car, on her patio, in her kitchen. Hurt by what she told me, I mentioned her name to Michael, hoping for some clue to her allure. He shrugged her off. Normally very tolerant of my friends, he remarked, "She's a bimbo. I don't know why you hang out with her."

Later that night, unable to sleep after yet another bout of unsatisfying sex, I began to understand the problem. Michael is a year older than me, and since grade school had designated himself as my guardian, my "big brother". I was his "little angel", his "baby sister". Unlike Andrea, I've never been a sexpot. Though my body is toned and nice and my face is cute, but I've never been the type of girl that looks like "sex". I'd never discussed my fantasies with Michael, never really discussed sex at all. He probably didn't realize how much I loved sex, and how much I lusted after him. I decided it was time he found out.

The next day, I took an extra-long lunch and stopped by a lingerie shop on the coast that I'd passed many times, but was always too afraid to visit. Wild outfits of lace and leather and lycra adorned the storefront mannequins - outfits I yearned to wear. I lingered outside on the sidewalk for minutes before I found the courage to push myself through the front door.

"Hello! Are you looking for anything in particular? Something for a honeymoon, perhaps? An anniversary? Or maybe just a little party for two?" The clerk - a thin, heavily made up woman in her forties - moved snakelike, sexily, her features animated and alive. I felt strangely comfortable with her.

"Yeah, I want to find an outfit that makes me look slutty," I replied, then smiled self-depricatingly. Her shrill, girlish laughter bounced off the shop walls.

"Oh, I definitely think I can help you there. Well, I'm not sure slutty is what you're after. I know we can find something VERY sexy! What's your size, hon? You look like a 5, with... hmm... I'd say a 34, a B cup maybe?" I smiled at her astute guess, which inspired another peel of laughter. For the next half hour, she led me in and out of the dressing room and into a barrage of lace, leather, satin, and vinyl bras, panties, teddies, and corsets. Before then, my experience with lingerie was the occasional lace bra purchase (when I felt really racy) at the annual May Company underwear sale. I left the store with an insight into an exotic new world - and bags full of racy ensembles.

Back at the office, I called Michael. A reporter at the local daily paper, Michael was all business when he was at the office. I could hear the stress in his voice when he answered, "Daily Times. This is Michael."

"Hey, are the incredibly sexy reporter who works the finance beat?" I purred in the best sexy voice I could muster.

"Oh, hi, Carol. What's up?" he asked quickly. I could hear the click of his hands on his keyboard. I wondered how I could get his attention.

"Oh, nothing really. Just sitting in my office all alone, with my hand in my panties, thinking about you." A shocked silence filled his end of the phone call.

"What? Are you serious?" He sounded baffled, confused. I had his attention, all right.

"Oh, of course, honey... I had to sit through this long staff meeting, and the entire time Simmons was gabbing about the end-of-quarter earnings all I could think about was having your cock inside me. How good it would feel for you to squeeze my ass while you took me from behind. I couldn't wait to get back to my office to finish myself off. Ooohh..." I moaned as I fingered my clitoris. My intention was to get him aroused, and I had definitely succeeded in arousing myself. For a moment, the only sounds on the line were my sighs and moans. I began to wonder if I had done the wrong thing, that I went too far, too fast.

"That sounds nice," he said in a low, teasing voice. "I'd love that. What else would we do?"

"I'd take your cock deep in my mouth while you rubbed my breasts. Then, when you were so hard you were gonna burst, you'd roll me onto my stomach and take me... oooohh!!" I came hard, moaning. I could hear his rapid breathing as he witnessed my orgasm.

"Oh, honey," he said huskily, "you just wait till I get home."

I giggled. "I'll be waiting..." I hung up the phone, savoring the bliss of the orgasm and the success of the first part of my mission.

I usually get home around 5:30, but Michael's shift doesn't end until 9:00. I started marinating chicken in his favorite teriyaki marinade as soon as I arrived at our house. While the chicken soaked, I soaked myself in a hot bath with a musky bath oil. Out of the bath, I smoothed a light lotion over my skin. I brushed a bit of blush over my cheeks and eyelids, and glossed my lips to give them a sultry look. From the lingerie store bag, I pulled out a tiger striped bra and panty set, with matching garter belt. Though the pattern seemed too wild for me, even the store clerk had been amazed at how brazen and sexy it made me look. I nervously checked myself in the mirror, then went to the kitchen to pass the time until he arrived.

Just as the carrots finished, I heard Michael's key in the lock. His path into the house was as predictable as the sunrise - the sound of the closet opening as he hung up his coat, the heavy thump of his suitcase against the side of the couch, the twin lighter thumps of his discarded shoes. I heard his stocking feet on the kitchen linoleum. He stopped, and I could feel his eyes surveying me. I concentrated on the carrots, removing them from the heat and giving them a final stir. Suddenly, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. I shrieked in surprise and delight as he carried me into the living room and dropped me onto the couch.

He kneeled before me, his eyes over-bright. "You shouldn't ask for things. You just might get them," he said, his eyes not leaving mine.

I met his gaze, moving my face closer to his. "I wouldn't ask for something unless I really wanted it," I responded. "And I really want it." With that I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him deeply. With an animal groan, he pulled me to him clutching my ass with both hands. His hands found my bra.

"Well, my little kitty cat, I wanna hear you purr," he murmured as he unfastened my bra and took my breasts in his hands. I moaned as he kiss-licked one nipple, then the other, kneading them with his hands all the while. "Yeah, that's it," he moaned. He slid down my stomach. He pulled off my panties, ran his hand over my lips and clit. "Boy, you weren't lying. You really want it!" he said, amazed at my wetness. He then did something he had never done before - he pulled my legs apart and expertly worked my clit with his tongue and mouth. I moaned loudly as his tongue explored deep inside of me, then moved over my clitoris. He rubbed my lips with two fingers, then gently pushed them until they were deep inside me. Licking my clit, he fingered me until I was on the verge of a major explosion. The orgasm rocked my body, pushing my pelvis off the couch and pushing my mind into another dimension.

Grateful, I wanted to repay him. I pushed him to the floor, unzipped his pants and brought out his rock-hard penis. Staring into his eyes, I licked his cock from base to tip, then slid the whole thing deep into my throat. He moaned and thrust his pelvis forward, watching me work his cock. I turned my body so he could see my ass and pussy as well as watch me suck him. This overwhelmed him - after a few moments of rubbing my lips and squeezing my ass, I could hear his breathing getting shallow. I straddled him, back facing towards his face, and slid his penis into my wetness. He moaned, grabbing my cheeks and spreading them so he could watch me slide up and down on his hard cock. Unbelievably, I felt another orgasm approaching. The pressure of his cock inside me increased as my motion on him increased. His pelvis thrust upwards, and we came together in an explosion of moans.

I collapsed back onto him. He hugged me tight, and kissed me tenderly on the cheek. "You are really wonderful. I'm the luckiest man alive. You never cease to surprise me."

I giggled, and held him close. "I love you, Michael. I really do."

"I know, honey. I love you, too." We lay together until we caught our breaths, and then went on to have a wonderful dinner and to collapse into bed, positioned spoon-style. After that night, sex was never again bland. We try everything, and even when something doesn't work, even when a position is so silly we fall on the floor laughing, he is still the sexiest man alive.

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