Copyright 2009 Lusty Library. All Rights Reserved http://www.lustylibrary.com en-us Sat, 04 Jul 2009 00:01:02 -0400 webmaster@lustylibrary.com (TheLustyLibrarian) Top ten rated sex stories http://www.lustylibrary.com/Stories/Straight/Orgies_and_Gangbangs/Joy-loses-at-strip-pool_9969 Straight:Orgies and Gangbangs Thu, 02 Jul 2009 17:32:45 -0400
My wife and I enter a quiet neighborhood bar. We are here because my wife said she had a surprise for me when I got home from work. I took a quick shower and on her orders, changed into some casual clothes. My wife on the other hand is more dressy compared to me. She has on a white blouse with lacey bra. The blouse is just barely see-through. She has on a short black mini skirt with matching super small white lace thong. The outfit is completed by her high heel shoes. She tells me to go sit at the bar because she has some work to do first.The bar is your typical neighborhood bar: a few empty tables, a long bar with a mirror behind it and an adjoining room with a pool table. I order a drink from the bartender and watch my wife walk over to the room with the pool table. As she walks in the room, the four guys playing pool stop immediately and stare at my wife. She announces that she wants to play pool and challenges them to a game. She announces that she wants to play for $100 a game much to the surprise of the guys playing pool. There is not much interest in the game from the guys until she tells them that she’ll wager her clothing instead of money. As she says this, she removes her bra from under her shirt and pulls it out the sleeve. She drops ...

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Her name was Casey Fernandez. She was 34, shoulder-length hair the colour and sheen of a horse-chestnut fresh from its case, deep dark eyes, high cheekbones, a mouth that promised much and (as I discovered) delivered more. We were not exactly living together all the time, which explains how it came about that we had been fucking several times a week for more than three months before she told me about the soirées at Lady T’s.

Fernandez was a name she had acquired from a husband who was no longer relevant. “A mistake,” she said with a grimace as though she had stepped in something nasty in the street. As for Casey - that had been imposed on her parents at the whim of baseball-loving grandparents who had been hoping for a boy.

I first saw her one morning when she came into my gallery with her father. Daddy had long ago made his first million out of real estate and multiplied it shrewdly when Wall Street could still be trusted. Then he started signing cheques with lots of noughts in favour of the party that dined out with Wall Street. In time that led to his appointment to the Court of St James. Daddy liked the perks that went with the posting: white tie dinners at Buckingham Palace, centre court seats at Wimbledon, a Covent Garden box for the ballet (but not the opera, which sent him to sleep ...

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We’re standing at opposite sides of the room; I’m glaring at him, whilst he is thoroughly enjoying himself and laughing at me. He always does this, one minute we’re both cuddled up to each other, all peaceful and out of nowhere, he just has to tickle me, even though he knows how much I hate it.
“Aw come on honey, it’s just a bit of fun,” he murmurs coming closer to me, and upon reaching me he takes me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.
“You know I don’t like it when you do that,” I murmur into his chest, pressing myself against his warm, comforting body. I can hear his heart beating evenly, and my fingers come up to stroke his chest slowly. His body tenses, and I look up at him, into his eyes to find him gazing down at me. I blush, the desire for him spreading through my body, causing a throb in the delicate place between my legs. We have been together for some time, but we both decided to wait for the right time to have sex for the first time. I can see it in his eyes, and he can see it in mine, now is that right time.
His head bends, bringing his soft, loving lips to meet mine to place a soft kiss on my lips, waiting, to see if I will respond to his act of love. My eyes close upon the ...

Get The Full Story At Lusty Library]]> http://www.lustylibrary.com/Stories/Straight/Infidelity/A-very-lusty-liaison..._9829 Straight:Infidelity Wed, 01 Jul 2009 12:13:13 -0400







People generally assume that if you’re experiencing feelings of lust for someone other than your partner that you must be either a bad person or someone in an unhappy relationship. However, what people don’t always understand is that whilst you may love someone, this does not mean that they will necessarily fulfil each and every aspect of your desires and longings, which can leave your sexual needs unsatisfied. I suppose you could say that this depicts my situation, though it isn’t really my boyfriend’s fault – as a young, lusty 21-year-old with double D breasts and a love for dirty fantasies and kinky fucking, you could very well say that I am almost insatiable. It barely seems fair to say that my poor boyfriend can’t keep up with me, though I had never considered cheating on him – that is, until I met Robert…
One thing you ought to know about me is that, in a sense, my life is a double act. By day I am the admirable student: academic, articulate and an able member of our prestigious church choir. But at night, on the other hand, I become a filthy sex kitten, loving nothing more than a night of hot, sweaty grinding on the dance floor pressed up against a raging hard-on in a club, and what better way to follow this than several hours of rampant fucking? Whilst Tom, the guy I live with, loves me and does his best to ...

Get The Full Story At Lusty Library]]> http://www.lustylibrary.com/Stories/Straight/Strangers/A-Hard-Rains-Gonna-Fall_9958 Straight:Strangers Wed, 01 Jul 2009 11:41:07 -0400
Author’s Note: This is not a political statement on any country’s politics or foreign policy. It could be set in Afghanistan today (though certain details make that highly unlikely) or set in the future in the States where citizens are defending themselves against a draconian government’s attempts to ban guns (that was a joke). It is a statement about the general futility and brutality of war but more than that it is about grabbing the chance of beauty in an ugly world. And some of this story is brutal and futile. Be warned. The thunder rumbled down through the bedrock; dust motes and small rocks fell from the roof whenever the bombardment got closer or a particularly large munition was detonated on the mountainside. The tunnel was dim, a few battery or wind-up torches lighting the black and green streaked granite; it was also cold, so very cold. The figures gathered together in groups of two and three, barely acknowledging the vibrations trying to search them out. Every couple of hours one of the animal-skin clad fighters would pass out rations. The bombardment varied in intensity as the enemy tried to harry them to reveal their position. The entire chain of mountains was riddled with natural and not so natural caves.The two sat beside each other in a small recess to one side of the main tunnel, chatting quietly during the lulls in the attack in case the various array of electronic tools in the enemies’ arsenal was seeking them out. ...

Get The Full Story At Lusty Library]]> http://www.lustylibrary.com/Stories/Straight/Infidelity/Talking-about-it-always-helps_9960 Straight:Infidelity Tue, 30 Jun 2009 10:36:35 -0400
Smiling coyly, Jean said, “I thought you might enjoy me telling you about my day.” She and her husband John were nude. She reclined on the couch in the den while John sat at her feet looking up into her startling blue eyes after taking in her nakedness with what only could be described as lurid glee. Although they had been married for more than a few years and age had started to take its inevitable toll, she was still beautiful, fit and trim, and her breasts were still magnificent although now they hung there before him suspended, pendant-like, giggling and bobbing with a sensual heaviness that belied the suckling of their three now grown children. Yes, her breasts were still magnificent in their maturity, accomplished and quite experienced in their sexual role of alluring and sating his erotic desires. They were mouthwatering in fact: full, with large areolas and perky rose-colored nipples that protruded in an alluring way that begged the phrase “suck me.” Her pussy was shaven and the folds of her labia were parted slightly, revealing both a delicate pink tone of her cleft, and the lovely hood that covered her clit. Her cleft glistened with her own excitement, as she was obviously enjoying the thoughts of her day. John felt the anticipation of her telling him as his prick fluttered with a prurient interest all its own. He was not sure how much he would enjoy her tale. He only hoped it would be some illicit ...

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My name is Lynette Adler. I'm 26 and I live in New York City. I'm a curator at the Guggenheim Museum of Art. I love doing what I do and all, even though it has gotten kind of boring.
My home life was also boring; my husband Derek, a Xerox salesperson, and I had a very large rift in our 6-year-old marriage. All that plus my overprotective, overbearing mother lives with us. My life with my mother had been volatile since my father had died. He died when I was 13. I managed to do extremely well in my school years, both academically and socially. Post-high school, I had dreams of being a fashion designer and wanted to go to FIDM in California. But my mom had feared being all alone if I went to college in another state. So I went to community college and got my current job, putting aside all my design dreams. There are times I wish I would leave my job, mother, and husband behind and pursue my dreams.
I have been working at the museum for approximately four years, yet I still want to be a designer. Without my mother and husband knowing, I had been taking classes in art and design and applied to FIDM-San Diego, FIT, and the Art Institute of NY. Anyways, my museum's hosting an exhibit featuring the works of Peter Paul Rubens who happens to be one of my favorite painters. He's ...

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This winter my girlfriend and I decided we needed some time away together so we booked a weekend away together at a country hotel. We do this a few times a year and it always involves lots of sex so I couldn’t wait. I was really hoping I’d get her to try anal again, as the first time we tried it she found it a little uncomfortable so she ended up giving me a blow job to finish me off. She always said we could try it again some other time. There was nothing I wanted to do more than feel her tight little arsehole round my cock again. A few days before we went we visited a sex shop and bought ourselves a few kinky treats including flavoured lubes and a top of the range vibrator. When we got to the hotel we couldn't wait to try out the new toys we'd bought. First though, we had a few glasses of champagne and took in the views and our new surroundings. My girlfriend was looking out of the window over the hotel grounds when I came up behind her and began to kiss her neck. She turned around and we began to kiss passionately. I pulled her vest top up over her head and started to kiss and lick her beautiful 34DD breasts. She returned the favour by squeezing the growing bulge in my pants. In no time we’d stripped off and I told my girlfriend to get down ...

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Sitting there, watching her strut around the stage as if she owned it, I was transported to a world of glitter, sex, magic. She was walking seductively around the stage area, every eye in the room fixed on her, ignoring completely the imperious tones of the magician, her boss. She had the reddest, most scarlet hair I had ever seen, curled back into a 1940s style. It was adorned with a sparkly black feather headdress. She threw smiles and kisses to the audience, her voluptuous hips swaying as she stepped around the various apparatus and props of the magician’s show. He let off a stream of fiery poppers, eliciting only the slightest collective gasp from the audience, as most of them were concentrating on her.Finally, he called her to order, to sit in a chair and be his experimental subject. By controlling her movement, he became the focus of the audience as well. I didn’t want to watch him make her disappear, so I slipped into my own little world of fantasy instead. I imagined I was the magician, that as I slipped the rope down her body to her waist, I would caress those perfectly rounded breasts, encased in red sequinned tassels. I would stroke down her luminously pale skin, following her curves to her tiny waist. Lastly, I would toy, ever so briefly, with the red strings on her black thong. A stirring round of applause woke me from the revelry in my imagination. I started, I was hot ...

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It was a dark and damp January morning in Sussex, England, and the orange glow of the formidable grey street lamps shone bright illuminating the light drizzle that began to fall. In a small box room, in a small mid terrace house, an alarm woke 24-year-old flight attendant Kate Michaels from her erotic dreams. Sleeping on her stomach like she always did, her long auburn hair was strewn across the pillow, her slender tanned arms cradled the downy silk. Wrapping her soft tanned legs around the Chinese silk duvet, Kate turned her head, her eyes slowly peeking at the bright face of the clock, momentarily thinking of her schedule before realising that today she was flying to Goa. Ten days in the Indian sunshine, just what a girl needed, she thought, as she turned her tired body on to her back embracing the feel of the soft duvet.She slid her small hand over her tummy and rested it just above her womanhood. Almost in a trancelike state, she parted her thighs slightly and moved her hand lower, feeling the warmth and smoothness from her beauty treatment. Covering her mound, she spread her fingers whilst parting the soft folds of her lips, relishing the touch. No time to play, she wickedly grinned as she kicked the duvet off and went to shower.Now sitting on the bed, wearing the obligatory white bra, Kate dried and braided her wavy, shoulder length, auburn hair. The young air hostess applied ...

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