Steamy Stories Podcast

Olá.  A chance holiday encounter leads to some animal passion. by  Slowandeasy47. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. “Olá.” Said a voice from nowhere, and not expecting to meet anyone I knew, I ignored it. “Olá.” It said again, so I looked up. Even in the dark and dimly lit street I could make out a curvaceous female shape leaning over the balcony looking in my direction and waving, clearly the owner of the voice. It was my first visit to this typical Algarve holiday beach town, with its white buildings and bright blue door and window surrounds. I often took a walk round the narrow cobbled streets of the village at this time of night, once the heat of the day had gone, and the cool air of the night brings some welcome relief. This particular night I had stopped by the local mini market, just before it closed, as I had remembered I was running out of gin and, of all things, breakfast croissants. So, armed with my purchases, I was on my way back to my compact holiday let and enjoying the sounds of the holiday makers enjoying whatever it is that holiday makers enjoy at that time of night. As I looked up, the owner of the voice waved again and repeated the greeting. “Olá. Boa noite.” I replied, pretty certain that the owner of the voice was actually English, or at least English speaking. “Don’t know about that,” said a slightly husky voice, “what you got there?” “Croissants and gin.” I replied, not knowing where this was going. “Bugger the croissants but if you’re willing to share the gin, you’ll be helping a maiden in distress.” Maiden, I thought, might have been overstating it a bit, but what an invitation. “Where do I leave my horse and shining armour?” “Just outside number four, I’ll buzz you up.” I made my way to the door of number four and there was an electric buzz as the gate came unlocked. I started up the narrow, winding, marble, stairs. There only appeared to be one door on each floor so by the time I got to number four I was short of breath and panting a bit. She opened the door just as I arrived and ushered me in to the tiny but neat apartment. “Welcome, Sir Galahad!” Said the owner of the husky voice, ushering me in with an exaggerated bow. She was a little younger than me, about thirtyish, with dark hair cut in a boyish style and a generous chest that was only just hidden by the rather short crop top. The stud through her navel naturally led your eyes down to the cut off denim shorts that were only just decent. Lovely! “I’m not sure why I’m accorded this honour.” I replied. “Easy!” Said the husky voice. “Angie’s pulled. She’s in her room with Mr Beach Bar, and the spare booze is in there. I didn’t want to disturb them and you walked by my window. Fortunately the tonic is here, so Sir Galahad, G&T?” “Thanks.” We exchanged names as she poured the drinks, her journey to get the tonic had made it blindingly obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra as her, not inconsiderable, chest swayed delightfully. Once I had managed to draw my eyes away, I couldn’t help but notice that her shorts were so short that the crease of buttock was visible at the top of each leg. This was getting better by the moment. We sipped our drinks to the unmistakable sounds of Angie and Mr Beach Bar getting to know one another, really quite well. The first gin went down easily, so I enjoyed another ogle as she went to fetch the refills. Because the walls were paper thin, the noises off were un-ignorable. They hadn’t got to the bed creaking stage, but were definitely heading in that direction, judging by Angie’s, clearly audible, squeals of delight. “Oh shit Angie, for Pete’s sake do try and be a bit more discrete!” Said my new friend in a hushed tone. Obviously Angie had no intention of being discrete and the sounds of humans mating only got louder. I have to admit that I find overhearing real sex highly erotic. I had never met Angie or Mr Beach Bar, but two feet behind my head, just the other side of the paper thin partition, they

Jane Gets Back In the Game - part 1. Girl was cheated on, has sex with man after build-up at the party. part 1. listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. by  Buckingbronco33. “Are you almost ready, Jane?” Chloe called through the bathroom door of our shared apartment. “Not even close, dude. Remind me why I am doing this again? I just want to stay in tonight and watch Desperate Housewives.” I called back, while I sat on the edge of the bathtub, flipped through a magazine, and avoided getting ready. Chloe barreled in, unhappy with my response. “Jane, buck up! Archie was a dick and you didn’t deserve the way that he treated you, but it has been two months! It is time to get back out there and start experiencing life again. You can’t hide in this apartment forever,” she said as she moved my legs to sit beside me on the bathtub. I stuck my tongue out at her and continued flipping through the magazine. “Girl, cut it out!” Chloe yelled at me while she grabbed at my magazine. I resisted her, and we had a short tug of war with the pages before we both fell into the bathtub, laughing. “Look. Archie is going to be there tonight, but that’s no reason for you not to go! Chester just met this guy, and he showed me some Instagram pictures. He is DELICIOUS. You have to come out with us, he is so excited to meet you! Plus, Rachel is expecting you to be there. It wouldn’t be a party without good-old Jane!” I had agreed to go to the party at Rachel’s forever ago, but that was before. Before the only man I ever loved, had ever been with, fucked some woman in his marketing course. Several times. Enough times that I eventually caught them in the act. Archie said he was sick, so I brought over some chicken soup for him. His roommate let me in; in hindsight, I think he actually felt sorry for me and let me in so the deception would finally end. Anyway, I only needed to see Archie in his typical place on the bottom for about two seconds before it was over for me. The problem was that my whole life had included him. I’d known him all through elementary and Junior high, and we were high school sweethearts, now going to the same school. I think things had been over for a while, but I just don’t know how to be single. I feel completely uncomfortable playing a role that isn’t “long-term girlfriend”. I know that sounds so stupid, and I never wanted to be that way, dependent on someone else. It was just so easy with Archie, we knew each other, and we didn’t have to work at it. Maybe that was part of the problem. Chloe has let me mope around for a while now, but I think she is finally getting tired of it. Her boyfriend, Chester, met some guy at the gym, and she has been wanting to set me up with him. Chester is incredible, he loves Chloe so much—the two of them actually make me sick they are so sweet together. But now, with this birthday party that my friend Rachel was hosting for her brother, Archie’s old roommate, she was determined. “Show me his picture, then I will decide.” I told Chloe indignantly. She pulled up his Instagram in a few seconds, and I have to admit I was impressed. He was damn fine, and it had been a while since I had gotten any. She saw the small smile on my face, and I knew I was doomed. “I knew it! I knew you would be into him! Ha! You’re coming, no excuses. Now let me do your hair, straight or curly?” She asked devilishly. “Straight, so I can pull it up when that room gets too hot,” I replied with a huff. I had a new determination—I was going to get laid tonight. Not like I had ever had a one-night stand before, but change is good, right? When Chloe finished my hair, I did something I am sure I will regret. “Chloe, just make me look hot, ok?” Her eyes lit up at that request—she had begged me to let her give me makeovers in the past, and I had outright refused, as I was never one who put a lot of effort into her appearance. Don’t get me wrong, I take my health seriously, and swim nearly every morning, which has given me a toned bod

Jane Gets Back In The Game - part 2. Girl was cheated on, has sex with man after build-up at the party. part 2, by  Buckingbronco33. listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories. Gus grabbed my hand and pulled me quickly through the crowd and out of the door. I waved to Chloe on the way out and she shot me a wink. When we hit the night air, Gus turned back to me and brought me quickly into him, grabbing my face with his free hand and kissing me deeply. He stepped forward and pressed my back against the apartment wall forcefully. He moaned slightly into my mouth and squeezed me tighter up against him, while his tongue played with mine. As he pulled away, his teeth grazed my bottom limp and I became almost too weak to stand. He pulled my arm over his shoulder, wrapped his around my waist, and headed towards my apartment. I leaned into him and soon his hand began to wander beneath the front of my dress. I cooed as his fingers found my nipple and he pinched it ever so slightly as we walked. I let out a too-loud moan and sank deeper into his side. “Ah, that feels so good,” I mumbled to him as he began massaging my breast. “I’m so wet for you…” I admitted, looking up at him as we walked. He smiled and winked at me, and I brought my free arm across my body and grabbed his belt. “You’re so naughty!” he laughed, pinching my nipple again, which forced me to bury my face in his chest to suppress another moan. “I love touching you like this, and watching you squirm,” he whispered into my ear, allowing me to relish in his warm breath on my ear and neck. I brought my hand down slightly and placed my fingers on either side of his obvious erection over his jeans, rubbing up and down along his shaft. He shuddered slightly and let out a soft groan. “Dammit, Jane. I need to get you home. Now.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him while he ran the remaining 500 yards to my apartment. He swung me in front of him when he reached my door to allow me to unlock the door. I began searching for my keys in my camera bag, trying to catch my breath from the run to my place, when I feel Gus slide in right behind me. He shifts my ponytail to the side, and brings his hands down to grab my hips, pulling them back towards the raging hard-on stuffed in his \jeans. He starts kissing my neck, licking and sucking occasionally, letting one hand rise and slide beneath the front of my dress to massage my tit again. I stop looking and lean back into him. I inhale sharply when his rough thumb runs over my hard nipple while he thrusts his hips forward to push against me more. His kissing becomes sloppier on my neck and he steps me forward against the door, seemingly lost in the moment. I can feel my sex swelling and dripping, begging to be touched. As if he is reading my mind, he whispers “take off your panties,” in between sucking on my neck. I quickly shimmy out of my lacy underwear and use one leg to kick them up and grab them in my hand. Gus trails his hands down the front of my thighs. “I need to feel your wetness,” he breathes in my ear before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. His left hand slides under my skirt, pulling it up and exposing my cunt to the chilly night air. He brings his fingers closer to my lips before stopping short, teasing me into releasing a begging moan. Finally, his fingers reach my lips and he slide one from the base of my slit slowly to the top, scooping up a finger full of my juices. “Umm…” he hums into my ear, “you are soaking wet. That’s so fucking sexy.” I let out a loud cry as he touches me again, finding my clit within seconds and flicking it back and forth a few times. He pulls his hand away and I whimper. “Open the door,” he commands, and I manage to quickly find my keys and get the door unlocked, all with the feeling of his cock pressed against my ass. The minute the door closes, Gus grabs my face with one hand and my waist with the other, and kisses me with a fire. I slide my hands between us and undo this belt, open

A Romantic Anniversary. Romantic Anniversary between husband and wife.  by  LazyDiogenes . listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories.  22 years. Angie had the day off to give her a nice 3 day weekend; and for me a normal Friday at the office. Even though we have 21 anniversaries behind us, the day still gives me a smile. The drive home from work is my time to shake off the day and reflect on anything from the day’s wins and lessons to weekend plans; or on milestone days like this, the last 22 years. I naturally reflected on our most memorable - our first, where we ate the ceremonial cake, the second honeymoon in Athens on our 5th; and the infamous - our brief time apart in our 13th year. That separation proved to be a blessing in disguise; being apart on our anniversary helped make us both realize we belonged together, resulting in an unbreakable lifelong bond. However… As much as I adore my wife now every bit as much as I did in our earliest years, complacency sets in. The fact I’m old enough to need medicine now doesn’t help. I know it’s just age and biology but still a blow to the ego. Angie really doesn’t care for flowers and we stopped giving gifts years ago. This anniversary is sure to be like so many over the past several years. We’ll sit on the couch and go through our usual drill: ‘We should probably at least have dinner somewhere’ 'Yeah, probably should; where do you want to go?’ 'I don’t care; what are you hungry for?’ 'Doesn’t matter; I can go with anything.’ 'Okay; I guess we can just go to Texas Roadhouse.’ I still have a healthy sex drive but Angie has become less and less responsive, the result of a waning libido I guess. We’re in a deep rut but we still love each other and have a good life: biggest house we’ve ever lived in; first pool we’ve ever had; financially secure. It’s a good life. Norman Lear once said how much he loved his life. Even at 98 years old, 'I get to get up in the morning and I’m still married to the most beautiful woman in the world.’ Couldn’t have said it better myself. Roadhouse is fine; we’ll go and have a decent time, then come home and sit back down on the couch as if we’d never left. We’re far from perfect, dysfunctional even, but I’ve learned to be content. The door opened to an empty garage. I left work early for the occasion however modest it might be, and honestly didn’t think anything of her not being there; maybe she’s at Karen’s house. I set my stuff down and saw the handwritten note on the counter on nice writing stationery: Happy anniversary, my love! Come to the Gaylord room #610. See you soon! Love, Angie (You’ll want to take your medicine; says your dosage is 3-5. You should take 5 (with a smiley face). It took a minute to sink in; then my heart jumped and mind raced. What time did she write this? How long had she been there? I need to get out there right away! No, wait, maybe she just left; I don’t want to be right behind her at the check-in desk. What am I saying? I need to get out there right away! Do I shower first? No…yeah, make it quick. I was in and out in 5 minutes and raced to my dresser to grab a handful of clothes for an overnight bag and saw a second note: Already packed for you (with another smiley face). I had one leg in my jeans before I thought wait, I can’t just show up in jeans and a t-shirt, can I. I quickly put on my best suit and ripped the tag off a necktie I hadn’t even worn yet. If Angie put this much thought into this night I needed to come strong. I was out of house in less than 15 minutes. I had a fleeting thought to text her and ask if she needed anything before realizing how stupid that would sound; it’s not like I’m going to the Piggly Wiggly. God we were in a rut. My heart was pounding and my mouth dry from the flurry of activity. I’m sure I didn’t catch every red light on the way there but it sure felt like it. I finally arrived at the Gaylord and walked in like a gentleman as best as I could, conspicuously carrying t

Natalie: Office Party .  Natalie goes to a work party, and hooks up with a hot guy. by Traumseele. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.  The office kitchen was somewhat cramped. A wall of microwaves, a couple of fridges, and a counter with two sinks was meant to satisfy the luncheon needs of the two-hundred-odd people who worked at this branch of Rodow-Mills Ltd., the corporation for which Natalie worked in purchasing. She was sat a round table, eating out of a box of noodles she had gotten from a takeout place in the neighborhood. “Are you gonna wear that tonight?” The question came from the short-haired woman seated next to Natalie. Lynn, her best girl friend and confidant at work since a long time back. There wasn’t that much contrast between the two, they were very much alike in both looks and manners. Women of medium height, with dark brown hair and eyes, dressed in “business casual” which meant jeans, a blouse, and black leather ankle boots. The main difference between them was in their hair, Natalie’s was curly and shoulder-length, while Lynn always kept it short and straight. Lynn also lacked Natalie’s prominent breasts, being almost flat chested, something she was sure was a common conversation topic among the guys at work. “Why not?” Natalie responded. “It’s an office party. Not like I have any new impressions to make.” It was true. Her job was fairly routine. She knew everybody in her department, and everyone worth knowing outside of it. “Unless you want me to slut up for a night on the town afterwards?” Lynn giggled. “I’m just teasing. You look great as always, Nat.” The short-haired woman took a sip of water from her glass. “I’m just thinking about… you know. I kind of want to hook up with somebody. I haven’t done that at work before. Feels like something I should cross off my list at some point, if I had one I mean.” She took another sip. “Don’t get me wrong but you’re a lot more experienced here than I am. Got any beginner tips?” At first, Natalie felt a bit weirded out by that last comment, but then she realized that Lynn would never judge her for being a “slut” at work, and probably just wanted in on the action. She gave her friend a coy, thoughtful smile. “I don’t really know what to say that, Lynn!” she responded with a hearty laugh. Her friend kept sipping water. She seemed nervous, for some mysterious reason. “Come on. You know it’s true. I want to be just like you, Nat!” The last bit came out with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Let’s just enjoy the free booze and try to avoid the annoying people. You’re gonna be fine. Besides, if one of these polo-wearing golfer guys were to try to steal you away from me, I would probably have to beat him up,” Natalie responded half-jokingly. Lynn was a real cutie, but Natalie just wasn’t into women in that way, even though she would often masturbate to them. That was different though, women were just sexier than men. Didn’t mean she was gay, not that she had any problem with that. The rest of the working day before the party went by as usual. Natalie sat in her cubicle, sending out purchasing emails and handing invoices over to payments. But mostly, she was just trying to pass time and look busy whenever somebody walked past. She had been to plenty of office parties, at this job and previous ones, and these things just didn’t make her nervous anymore. She felt like she could already predict all that was going to happen that night. Free drinks, some speeches from upper management, maybe a forced “team building” activity or two, but most importantly, free drinks. Her friend’s comment about her slutty work habits had bothered her a bit. Not because Lynn thought her to be a slut, she knew that she did and that was great, but rather quite the opposite. In truth, she hadn’t really been hooking up with any co-workers lately. That was a frequent activity in her mid twenties, but in recent years, the dull routine and general feeling of alienation at the office had

A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowerings. Iris and Sam have a sexy ‘deflowering’ party for two on Halloween. The Consumations - part 2.  by  MoonlitOpal. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.  “Yep.” I placed the box on the table beside the couch, then stood before Sam and slowly took off my dress. I was trembling with excitement, and as his hungry stare moved over me, I felt my nipples harden beneath my bra. “You’re beautiful, Iris,” he whispered. I grinned and went to Sam, leaning forward so I could give him a deep kiss. Then I climbed onto the couch, kneeling beside him. Without speaking, I began trying to unfasten his pants, but my hands were shaking so much, I struggled with the simple task. I was grateful when Sam took over. Once he had his pants and underwear down around his thighs, I stared at his erection, which pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Looking up at Sam again, I saw that his gaze was pleading, full of the same need overtaking me, and I wanted more than anything to make him feel good. Extending my hand, I wrapped my fingers around his cock, and it twitched in my grasp. As I began gently stroking, Sam let his head fall back, a low groan emerging from deep in his throat. I delighted in the silkiness of his flesh. Sliding the pad of my thumb over his cock head, I felt a drop of moisture. My mouth watered when I thought about tasting it. Eagerly I leaned forward, brushing my lips against his tip. Now Sam was trembling, too, and his obvious excitement made me brave enough to swirl my tongue all around the lovely mushroom head. The slight saltiness of his skin combined with a trace of sweetness from his pre-cum. “Iris,” he moaned while brushing my hair back from my face. Grasping his erection, I planted kisses along the entire length of him. I inhaled his scent, which only heightened my arousal. I was soaking wet between my thighs. Finally I wrapped my lips around Sam’s throbbing cock. The sound of his heavy breathing competed with the volume of the television, and the flickering light from the screen fell on my face as I did my best to pleasure him. I wasn’t able to take much at first. As soon as his cock reached the back of my tongue, I had to suppress my gag reflex. He was careful not to thrust his hips, instead letting me set the pace. While saliva trickled from my mouth to coat his cock, I stroked him, then lowered my lips until I reached my hand. “Ah, fuck!” he cried. “Iris, that feels so good!” I’d never heard Sam swear before, and I took it as a compliment. He seemed lost to his lust, and to the feel of my licking and sucking and stroking. I tried again to take him deeper, exhaling as another inch of his cock disappeared between my lips. It was then that I felt Sam caress my back, his fingertips running along my spine. While I fondled his balls and used my tongue to give plenty of attention to the underside of his cock, he reached between my thighs. I moaned when he began rubbing me through my panties. At first, his touch was a little too low, but I wasn’t about to lift my head from his cock and give him directions. Then his fingers homed in on my clit, and I moaned even louder, letting him know he’d reached just the right spot. “I love how wet you are,” he told me in a guttural voice. I was glad he found it exciting, because my body seemed intent on producing a copious amount of lubrication for my first time. As Sam continued massaging my clit, I shivered from the sheer pleasure of it, and I realized I wanted him to come in my mouth. I wanted to feel him orgasm while my lips were wrapped around his cock. “Iris, I’m close,” he suddenly warned me. I heard his gasp when I continued sucking, hollowing my cheeks in the process. “Iris, oh God!” I moaned, letting him know I didn’t want him to hold back. He let out a loud cry, and his whole body tensed as the first rope of semen landed on my tongue. Quickly I swallowed, tasting the hot saltiness of it. More soon followed, and despite my best ef

Sorority Scavenger Hunt.Frat Pledge comes to the aid of Sorority sisters, but his libido gets tested to the extreme. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 1.  One lowly pledge must satisfy the girls of Omega U. The day I went to college I thought I had cleaned my last floor. Washed my last dish. Scrubbed my last toilet. I left home after five years too many of flipping burgers and dealing with other people’s shit. I was done trying to make a bunch of assholes happy. It took all of one day in a frat to realize I was wrong. The world was filled with unhappy assholes, and they were all my problem. “Pledge Needledick! Make sure the floor shines.” Beko was the frat vice president. He was about as funny as a cold sore. But he was also a linebacker, so people generally felt obligated to laugh. “It’s Cam.” I said. “It’s Cam what?” “It’s Cam, Sir.” I said. I did not sigh. It was difficult. “It’s pledge Needledick now.” Beko woofed. Like a dog. A retarded dog. “We are getting fucked up!” Shaun slid himself between Beko and me, smooth as anyone I had ever seen. “What Beko is trying to say is that today is your night on the chore rota Cam. All pledges take a turn.” Shaun was the frat president. And he was probably going to be a senator. “No. I get it. Shit needs cleaning.” I said. “Right. Spirit of brotherhood. Don’t wait up.” Shaun said. “Beko! What have I told you about pissing on the floor?” And, with the sloppy zip of a zipper, I was alone. I had the place to myself, piles of shit to clean up, and a fresh puddle of piss to mop. “I am so fucking stupid.” I said. I pledged the frat because Alpha Nu Alpha Lambda was the place for business majors.Just this chapter alone had produced three Fortune 500 CEOs, a couple of Silicon valley royalty, and so many millionaires they stopped keeping track. And business is all about who you know. A poor boy from the shit end of the city who does not know anyone needs to change that. And so I did. And now I was picking up empties while the future leaders of the free world were getting shitfaced and laid. You would think that with so many rich bastards they would have a maid. I was well into the second hour and elbow deep in the world’s most disgusting toilet when the doorbell rang. I didn’t get up. I just kept scrubbing. Whoever they were here for it certainly was not me. The bell rang again. And again. And then someone starting pressing it like they’d been duct taped to the damn button and then had a seizure. I ripped off my yellow gloves, jogged to the door and opened it. “What the fu-” I started. I did not end that sentence. I saw where it was going, flagged it down, and gave it directions to a new and better place. “How can I help you?” I said. Is this because I am a good person? The kind of person who does not tear people’s heads off for no reason? Of course not. I worked in fast food. It was because, on the other side of the door, stood a very pretty young asian girl in heels, a knit skirt, and a sorority sweater so tight that it had to have been drawn on her. The girl blinked the blink of the slightly high, or the very dumb. “I’m here for Beko.” she said. Dumb it is. “He’s out right now. I can tell him you called.” I said. She blinked again. “I didn’t call. I walked.” “Right. No. Totally get that. Do you want to leave a message?” “Nope. I want to see Beko.” “Tell you what. Come on in. We’ll call him.” I said. “Let me just wash my hands.” She walked in and, with a clear familiarity, walked over to our least disgusting couch and sat on it. I ran to the sink, scrubbed up and came out. Then I called Beko from my cell. He answered on the first ring. “Beko, it’s me, Cam. I have a–” I looked at the asian space cadet quizzically. “June.” she said. “–June here to talk to you.” “Needledick! I was watching porn on my phone.” Beko shouted. Over what must have been one hell of a party. “Now I just see your stupid Needledick name on my phone. Hang up so I can see some titties.” So I hung up. “

A Night of Sweet Treats and Deflowering: The Confessions - part 1.  Iris and Sam have a sexy ‘deflowering’ party for two on Halloween. by  MoonlitOpal. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.  On a beautiful late October afternoon, Sam and I decided to eat lunch outside the call center where we worked. Sitting on a wooden bench near the building entrance, we dug into the sandwiches we’d brought from home. “It’s such a gorgeous day,” I sighed. The sky held no trace of clouds, and a maple to my right was spectacular in its display of scarlet foliage. Breathing deep, I delighted in the cool, crisp air. “Soon it’s going to be freezing,” Sam said. We’d been working together for almost a year, long enough for me to know he preferred summer to colder weather. “Then there will be no lunches for you and me outside, Iris. We’ll be stuck inside the cafeteria for months.” I knew he was right, but I wouldn’t let thoughts of winter, with its frigid days and waning light, dampen my mood. Sam and I chatted about work and how hectic things had been as of late, and after I finished my sandwich, I reached for the small bag of candy corn I’d packed for dessert. Though I knew Sam didn’t share my love of sweets, I offered some to him anyway. He shook his head. “No, thank you.” “Oh, come on!” I insisted. “It’s almost Halloween! It’s practically tradition to eat candy corn this time of year.” He looked at me with an amused smile, and I couldn’t help feeling a nervous flutter deep in the pit of my stomach. Sam was twenty-three, a year older than I, and he had gorgeous brown eyes, so expressive they could make a girl’s heart melt. His dark hair seemed in constant need of a trim; sometimes I had to resist the urge to run my fingers through it and brush it back from his face. “My family never celebrated Halloween,” Sam revealed. I remembered him mentioning that his parents were extremely religious. Sam didn’t strike me as particularly devout, and I got a sense that his lack of faith had caused a rift between him and the rest of his family. “It’s just like any other day to me,” he went on. I loved Halloween, though being a shy introvert, I never did much to enjoy the festivities. Parties and crowds made me break out in a sweat, so I usually spent Halloween at my mom’s house, where we would hand out candy and watch scary movies while eating enough junk food to give us a sugar high. This year, however, she had to travel for work, and I’d resigned myself to spending Halloween alone in my apartment. Turning toward Sam now, I playfully held out my tongue so he could see the piece of candy corn resting on it. “You should get dressed up and binge on candy at least once in your life,” I told him. “Well, what about you?” he asked. “What are your plans for Halloween?” I shrugged. “My social life is pretty much nonexistent, so I don’t have any. Unless…” My heart suddenly felt like it was pounding in my throat, and my mouth grew dry from nervousness. I averted my stare, then sneaked a glance at him. “Unless you want to come over to my apartment,” I finally managed to say. My ability to flirt was abysmal; I couldn’t have been beguiling if my life depended on it. To make matters worse, I knew my face was growing hot as I waited for Sam’s answer. When he didn’t speak right away, I awkwardly rushed on. “We could dress up if you want–there’s still time to get costumes–and I could make a pizza for dinner. We could watch campy old horror movies and drink apple cider…” Even as I spoke, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Sam. I was afraid he would find me pathetic. “You know what, Iris? That sounds like a lot of fun,” he said, and I knew I wasn’t imagining it when he moved a few inches closer to me. I tried and failed to suppress a delighted grin at his response. “Awesome! Why don’t you come over at around six?” I suggested. Sam knew I lived in the lower-level apartment of a house not far from the call center. “I’ll give you the address, and when you get ther

The Horny Patient.  A story of my Jason Biggs moment with a sexy nurse.  by Stopokochac. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It was the late 2000s, in my hometown in Northern California. I was 18 and although I had never been intimate with a woman before, I knew my body very well. My sex drive was high, my hormones were raging, and I always knew my first sexual experience with a woman would play out like that classic scene from “American Pie”. That particular year, I was having some issue with my bladder, and my doctor suggested I see a specialist who could perform an ultrasound. Never would have I imagined that such a routine medical procedure would end up being my first sexual experience. There I was laying on the exam table of a dimly lit hospital room. The atmosphere was calm and relaxing. Suddenly, this sexy nurse, well into her mid 40s enters the room. She was tall, with light brown hair and glasses. Her uniform wasn’t doing much to hide her large mature breasts and sexy cleavage. I couldn’t believe my luck. This is usually the sort of thing that only happens in porn flicks. The moment she walked in, my heart skipped a beat, and stomach immediately filled with butterflies. Of course it was a dream come true, but I never expected that things would go as far as they did. The exam started off pretty normal. She pulled up my shirt and began to ultrasound my stomach. The gel she put on the device had a warm, slimy texture that had a strange but pleasant sensation. She did an ultrasound on my stomach for maybe a minute or two, then suddenly out of the blue she stops and says to me, “Undo your shorts for me.” I must admit, her remark caught me a little off guard. It wasn’t the first time a medical professional had told me to unbutton my shorts, but the wording she used and the way she said it, immediately turned me on. My heart skipped a beat, as I felt my dick suddenly get a little bigger. I unbuttoned my shorts as she requested, but deliberately left the fly up. I must admit, the chances of her undoing my fly herself seemed extremely slim, yet there was a large part of me that was hoping. Low and behold, without uttering another word, she reaches down and with the tips of her long, unpainted, but well manicured fingers, begins to unzip my shorts, popping my fly wide open. Mind you, she wasn’t wearing any gloves during any of this. In less than a second, my dick went from calm, to the hardest it’s ever been. At this point, she still had no idea her medical exam was turning me on, and I was able to reach through my pocket and readjust my 6 inch boner. She slid the device into the band of my boxers. The sensation of the warm gel felt even more pleasant on my hairy pubic mound, and with every movement of the device, my heart skipped a beat and my stomach filled with butterflies. I could feel myself getting harder and harder, and the tension starting to build, as her sexy bare hand slid further and further down my boxers, the device inching closer and closer to my virgin dick. I knew a millimeter further, and I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Suddenly, I felt it. That warm tingling feeling I had experienced so many times, and I knew there was no stopping it. With the inevitable about to happened, I did the only thing I could. I reached through my short’s pocket and squeezed my foreskin as tight as I could, in a last ditch effort to stop my virgin cum from exploding all over her unprotected hand. I saw her glancing back and forth at the monitor, and the only thing going through my mind was whether she knew. She removed the device from my shorts, handed me some tissues and sent me to the bathroom. It was at that point I knew she knew. I attempted to clean myself off as best as I could, but there’s only so much you can do with tissue paper. She gave me my prognosis and sent me on my way, giving no mention of the awkward incident that had just occurred. If that wasn’t embarrassing enough already, my mom was in

Empty Nester Starts Dating Again. -  Mom explores new wild side, first date, years after divorce. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. University, 17 August 2021   The pale vanilla thickly painted cinder block walls that framed a small high window above the twin bed reminded me of the inside of a prison, but to my son his new dorm room was freedom – at last. I almost didn’t even get the brief glimpse of where he would be living for the next year. At first, he insisted he could carry up his boxes and suitcases himself, as he didn’t want to introduce his new roommate to his newly single, middle-aged mom. I even promised not to dance or sing while there, but maybe it was the fact that I mentioned those possibilities for ultimate peer embarrassment that got me dismissed shortly after the luggage entered the room. My son was about to test out his suburban survival skills, and at 18 he was ready. Somehow, amid or maybe because of my many mistakes, he had turned out well. There was nothing else to say that I hadn’t told him already that he would be willing to hear. So I gave him a discreet hug in the stairwell with no other students around. “I love you, honey.” “Love you too, mom.” And he jogged back up the stairs to his new life, while I retreated back to the car and the four-hour drive home. With the green blur of trees in my peripheral vision and nothing but an endless, straight two way freeway ahead for the next 80 miles, I turned up the end of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation,” just before it segued into the next hit on my 80s dance music playlist. I remembered dancing in the bathroom to Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” while putting on too much eyeliner ahead of a college party with my best friend Wendy back when we were virgins. But truth be told, I managed to stay one all through college too. Wendy and I were on the phone last month as she celebrated her 48th birthday, wondering why we tried so hard to be perfect, rather than having more fun when we were in our 20s. She was always prettier than me – at least guys thought so – with her highlighted shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes and high cheekbones. So experiencing the inevitable part of aging of becoming invisible in public was hitting her harder than me. Her blonde highlighted hair was about 5 inches shorter than college and she still had her high cheekbones etched with the outer edges of wrinkles near her eyes. Like me, Wendy had probably only gained about 5 pounds since college, but unlike me, it looked to be mostly muscle from her part time job as a yoga instructor. If she had cellulite, I had yet to see it. But like most women, Wendy could be her own worst critic even while protesting the unfairness that women are so judged by their looks. She said, “I was in the customer service line in Home Depot last week, but the clerk came around the desk to show some gal in a short tennis dress to the hardware aisle for the right size wood screws for her project. Hello – it’s not as if I wasn’t already standing there. Am I invisible?” “Maybe you need to wear a short sports dress for errands. You could still carry it off,” I said. “Yoga dresses are in style now.” “That’s not the point, it’s about fairness,” Wendy said. “Hey we got that attention when we were her age and didn’t complain,” I said. “Yeah, we made quite a pair. But unfortunately we didn’t do anything with it! Not really,” she said. “What do you mean?” I asked. “We were too good, too uptight, always trying to do the right thing, stupidly trying to have morals,” she said. “Don’t you ever think about it and wonder why?” “Yeah, if I had known I would marry my college boyfriend three years after graduation only to get dumped as our kids reached whatever age he considered viable so he could leave to fuck a zillion others. Yes, I would have said a yes a few times instead of no to any number of other guys in college,” I said. “We followed the rules. But for what?” she asked. “For the nice, appropriate boys who de