The stories posted here are explicit sexual encounters. I hope you are not offended by the graphic nature of the storytelling, but it always seems better to call a spade a spade versus some artful (or otherwise) euphemism.

I have been a big fan of erotic writing all my life, or at least since my conscious awakening in my mid teenage years. I have read many stories, letters, classic fiction, and modern. Over the years, I have written erotic letters and stories for my lovers. I enjoy the process of writing, visualizing the action, seeing myself and my lover participating in each carnal act. I write to give pleasure, much like I make love. I imagine my reader, sparks of passion igniting and then slowly building into an inferno of desire and hunger for release.

I love giving orgasms. I love that they can be mentally challenging and rewarding. For it is in the mind that orgasm is won or lost. The physical stimulation helps, sometimes a lot, but without both mind and body engaged, an orgasm rarely happens. The mind is the most magnificent of erogenous zones, for it can translate any setting, any mundane activity into an erotic and sensual adventure.

I hope you enjoy these stories. I hope they bring you pleasure and release. Please let me know what you think, what you like, and what you would like to read about in future posts.

Finally, the hours of packing, the long airport lines, the endless weekends of planning were behind us. As we settled into our seats, we counted our blessing to have only two seats together on our right side of the plane. The suckers in the middle had five seats together and we both had experienced sleepless travel nights on previous flights, as the interior passengers kept us awake going to the bathroom etc. We looked at each other and grinned. At last! We were headed to Paris for a two-week tour of a few European cities. It was to be a romantic and artistic visit to places we loved and places we had desired to visit for the first time.

We were giddy with excitement and full of mischief, and we kept a flirty, teasy banter going while the other passengers boarded and settled in for the eight and a half hour flight. We were both dressed for comfort, with layers of clothes to adjust based upon the plane’s climate control system. Past experience had taught us that the temperature could range from freezing to melting within minutes and would cycle from one extreme to the other throughout the flight.

Your base layer was a pair of black cotton leggings that were formfitting and showed your sexy legs and ass perfectly. I guessed that you had some comfortable panties on under, but couldn’t see any lines. And I noticed these things. On top, you started with a loose tank-top over a light and comfortable, yet sexy black bra. Unlike some of your bra’s this one allowed your firm nipples to display themselves to the world, an image that always aroused me. Over all of this you had on a cotton jumper that was colorful and classy, yet soft and comfortable. Finally you had a sweater, socks and all of the necessities of an overnight flight.

I was wearing some old, loose and super comfortable khakis over loose fitting fleece boxers. My boys were riding in comfort. A concert tee and a unbuttoned flannel shirt topped me off. Clearly I was going for the grunge look, but with my five-day beard, you always thought it made me look sexy and rugged, like I had just come in from cutting timber all day, but without the accompanying odors.

The airline still provided little pillows and blankets for the flight, but we also brought our own supplemental blanket and neck pillows. We also brought our own cocktails, stored in three ounce mouthwash bottles. We mixed up a preflight cocktail with some Perrier we had purchased at the airport and toasted our embarkation. Who said only first class could have these privileges?

The whole time we were talking and drinking, you were teasing me. You were very frisky for some reason, and as the cocktail warmed you, the playfulness intensified. You would look at me and lick your lips hungrily. You placed your hand on my thigh and lightly stroked the inside of my leg, knowing how that drove me crazy. Once, when no one was looking, you reached up as if to scratch an itch and pulled your tops away to show me your erect nipple. As the teasing continued, I was thankful for loose-fitting pants and boxers. I was unable to control my arousal and my pants started filling magically.

Noticing the bulge forming in my pants, you smiled proudly and reached over to squeeze it. As your fingers curled around me through my pants, we both felt it grow another inch and it was now turgid with arousal. You kept your hand there and started squeezing and stroking the shaft subtly. I was obviously enjoying the attention, but was worried about other passengers or flight attendants seeing what you were doing. You smiled up into my face, observing and enjoying the various emotions I was experiencing. You moved your hand slightly, so that your thumb and forefinger could stroke the outline of the tip. You could see that this was very stimulating, and you mouthed to me, “Are you going to cum?” and licked your lips seductively.

In fact I was about to cum, but before I did, I covered your hand with mine and stopped the teasing. I did not want to spend the next eight to ten hours in soggy, cum-filled boxers. I casually moved your hand back to your lap, smiling triumphantly, as your face formed a pretend pout. Of course my cock was still hard as a rock and tingling with excitement. As I shifted my position gently to defuse the tension in my pants, I chuckled thinking of old Western movies where the guys had to gingerly move bottles of nitroglycerine to prevent their explosive release. That is how I felt about my cock at this moment. Any sudden move and it would blow, sky high.