My best sexstories

Whether I’m writing about joining the
mile high club, attending a “kissing
party”, or the joy that comes with not
caring about pubic hair, I often address
my sex life directly. Sometimes, I even
dispense unsolicited advice based on personal experiences on matters such
as staying faithful, and which
awkward scenarios couples should
expect to face in the sack. For this roundup of sensual stories,
however, I cast a wide net. What I
discovered is that everyone seems to
have a saucy tale worth sharing.
Below are the top 5 anecdotes of the
lot, which are sure to leave you flesh thirsty. (Each story has been edited for
clarity.)
1. Jerking around in-flight
(male, 30) My college girlfriend had an insatiable

appetite for sex. So an hour before
heading to the airport to catch a flight
to Italy in 2002 (the trip was our
graduation gift to ourselves), we had
sex. By the time we were boarding, she was already ready for more.
Naturally, we checked out the
plane’s bathroom, but we agreed
that it looked too cramped for a mid-air
romp. Undeterred, my gal summoned a flight
attendant shortly after takeoff and
requested two blankets. Then she
draped the navy blue polyester throws
over my lap, slipped her hand beneath
the makeshift barrier, withdrew my dick, and massaged me to erection.
Bear in mind that we were in a three-
seat row. She was by the window, I
was in the center, and a middle-aged
European dude neither of us knew was
sitting near the aisle. While jerking me off as slowly as
possible so as not to raise suspicion,
she whispered in my ear that she
wanted to make me come. It was odd
being shoulder-to-shoulder with a
complete stranger, and it wasn’t easy to muffle my increasingly heavy
breathing, but it was incredibly hot to
do something so daring out in the open.
After about half an hour, I came,
smiling wide, aware that I would never
forget that less-than-innocent hand job.
2. Starfucking (female, 20) The Spring Fling concert is a major

campus event at my small liberal arts
college. So when the famous rapper
we’d all been looking forward to
seeing for weeks singled me out and
pulled me up on stage mid- performance, it was a big deal. Dancing
alongside a verified celeb in front of
the entire school, I inevitably got a little
drunk on my five minutes of spotlight. I
decided right then and there that I was
DTF (down to fuck). But what transpired between us
wasn’t the wild, disconnected sex I
anticipated. To start, the dapper rapper
nibbled on my toes. He followed that
intimate gesture by caressing my body
tenderly all over. Then he told me he could love me, and offered to pay for
my college education! The next
morning, he invited all my friends out
to brunch. As soon as he left town, the reality that
he was twice my age, lived in Atlanta,
and traveled constantly set in. When he
texted a few days later, I was shocked
he hadn’t forgotten me already. My
ego begged me to respond. But rather than draw the whole thing out and
make myself vulnerable to
disappointment, I chose not to taint a
precious one-night stand. Hopefully the
disappointment didn’t kill him!
3. Suddenly single, seeking
sex cure (female, 35) A
s soon as my divorce became official
a few years back, I took a job working
as a television producer that required
traveling across the country with the
show’s cast and crew. As I
interacted with more and more new people for a few days at a time, I
formulated a theory: The only way to
cleanse my sexual palate of ex-
husband residue was to sleep with a
total stranger. I was unwinding at the bar of a cheap,
cozy hotel in the middle of America
one night when a handsome traveling
salesman started flirting with me: The
perfectly clichéd opportunity to regain
control of my sex life, right? Then I noticed his wedding ring. At the risk of
wasting erotic energy, I addressed the
issue directly. “My wife and I have an
understanding,” he said. Upstairs in his hotel room, we stripped
off our clothes and attacked each
other. We went at it three times in a
row, and with each orgasmic round I
shed a layer of the post-divorce blues,
just as I’d hoped. The next morning, my healer of a
salesman and I woke up to a call from
his wife and his guilty tone revealed
that his marital “agreement” was
probably one-sided. Honestly, though, I
didn’t feel bad. I needed to get laid, and I was grateful to be cured.
4. MILF-schooled (male, 27)
At 21, I caught an older, beautiful, fit,
blonde woman staring at me from
across a club in downtown Fort
Lauderdale. Soon enough, she asked
me to dance. We didn’t hook up that
night, but she gave me her number and I pledged not to let the opportunity slip
before leaving for school in two
weeks. That Friday night, she scooped me from
my parents’ place in an Escalade and
drove me to her suburban McMansion,
where two other badass cars were
parked in the driveway, and,
apparently, two young kids were tucked in bed. “My ex husband’s a baller,” she
explained. I didn’t ask questions. After the babysitter showed up, my
MILF and I headed to the nearest strip
club—her choice, not mine. A dozen
lap dances later, around 5am, we
checked into a hotel. As soon as the
door slammed behind us, I started kissing her and fondling her breasts
like I would with a woman my age. “Don’t rush,” she said. I took the cue. By the time I climbed on
top of her, the sun was rising. Finally! I
thought. I entered her eagerly, and she
moaned loudly. Overwhelmed by the
excitement of pleasing an older
woman, however, I blew my load in seconds. The upside to being young is
that I was erect again in minutes, and I
managed to prove myself during round
two. On top of checking off an
important bucket list item, I learned
something about pacing, and redemption.
5. It’s good to give (female,
34)
In my late 20s, I traveled all over
Europe with a close girlfriend. It was
our last day in Bulgaria when an
impressively well-built guy with really
thick dark eyebrows walked into our
hostel. I was more physically attracted to him than I’d been to anyone in a
long time, and after months of
backpacking without hooking up, I was
downright thirsty for sex. Looking
around the tent, I could tell I wasn’t
the only interested party. I’m not aggressive by nature, but I knew I had
to trample the competition fast—or
miss my chance. Once my target set his bags down, I
grabbed him by the arm and ushered
him outside. We chatted for two
minutes in the dark, during which time
I learned two things about him: He was
a British-Indian amateur boxer, which explained the toned body, and he was
seven years older than I was. That was
enough for me to yank his belt off and
pull his pants down. Right outside the
packed hostel, I gave him a blowjob
with more gusto than I’d ever devoted to oral sex. The moment
demanded impromptu action, and it
was worth it. Who knew it could be so
damn satisfying to be so generous?

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