Your erotic stories

It was one of the hottest summers on record and for the small town in central Illinois, that meant July temperatures in the mid to upper nineties was the norm. There were only two escapes from the heat; the air conditioned indoors or a pool and cool drinks. One evening, after a local band had provided some musical entertainment in the parking lot of a local bar and hotel, a group of friends were discussing what to do next. None of them at 10:30, was ready to call it a night.

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"You are joking. Please tell me you're joking?" I doubted my mother understood the desperation in my voice, but I was disgusted and disappointed. How could she do this? "I'm not joking Chris." My Mom was still calm, oblivious to reality as usual. "I told Megan to call you. She'll be in town next week and I thought it would be wonderful if you could take her to dinner. It's not like you have this busy social life and you can't fit her in. You're always telling me that you don't get out enough."

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The lights low, his glistening contours barely visible in the mirror. I step closer. So does he. My eyes slowly adjust to the near dark, and I see me, staring back. Blue green eyes drinking me in, a closed circuit of self lust. I step closer. Six feet of rock climber, six feet of swimmer, six feet of dirty hot mind wrapped in a perfect body. I tilt my head. A shaft of light slashes across a sculpted cheekbone.

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You call me as I sit in traffic and ask me to come over. I am excited at the idea of seeing you, but the traffic is bumper to bumper and my AC is out. I was already frustrated by my predicament and your call hasn't helped settle me. I growl something noncommittal into the phone and feel a pang of regret at the let down sound in your voice when you say ok. I realize you need me there. I smile after a long moment but then grimace again almost as quickly.

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Caution: Contains violence against men, incest, and abuse of a very small penis. If this offends or does not interest you, please do not read. ** My wife had gone away for a weekend naturists convention, but I refused to ever attend them because although at 38 years old, 5'5" and 132 pounds I am not in horrible shape, I am lacking and very very self conscious in one area. Flaccid, my poor pink penis stands at only ¾ of an inch and has the circumference of a Vienna Sausage. I was constantly taunted in gym class as I was growing up, so I vowed never to be naked in public again.

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Every person I mention in this story is fictional and everyone involved in this story is eighteen and older. * Hi my name is Tiffany Arnold. I was getting ready to switch from public high school to a private all girl school. I was kicked out from my public high school senior year for particular reasons and have to go to a private school for my senior year, you know the one with long plaid skirts and the uniforms and such.

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Jimmy felt that his life was barreling into the toilet but he also felt powerless to stop it. In less than two years he had lost his wife and then his home in quick succession. Jimmy was no fool. He knew that he alone was responsible for putting his life in reverse. He couldn't blame his wife. She had stood by him as long as she could take it but eventually she had to get away from their marriage. Her husband had simply become too weird and his needs outstripped her ability to meet them.

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Some times, we go places we didn't intend to go, but are happy to get there when we do. That is certainly true with the way my wife and I developed sexually. We married after she graduated from college. I was two years ahead of her. I graduated and moved about 30 minutes away to my first job. We saw each other each weekend and also during the week. Sex was a priority then. I really liked sex with her. We would spend a lot of time naked. I liked that.

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In was the mid nineteen nineties, fall semester of my junior year, and I foolishly took 19 credits. It was murder. I worked almost constantly on school, with only rare moments to myself. The pressure was amazing; I should have listened to my advisor and taken only 15 credits. Fortunately, I worked off my stress in the gym. I would pound the stair-stepper daily for 45 minutes to an hour at a stretch. After six weeks the stair stepper gave up, but I didn't.

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Monday morning came early. Jamie rose from his bed and shambled to the bathroom. The sound of the shower woke Patti. He came back into the bedroom, his towel draped over his shoulder. Dmitri stood up, stretched his back and yawned, his little fangs showing, and marched off to the kitchen. Patti lay in bed, naked, the sheets pulled up to her chin, grinning.

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