Your erotic stories

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I went a little method with this one. Forgive any creative indulgences that detract from the story. As always, let me know what you think. PS - For those of you into Trance, Techno, and/or Electronica...this one's for you. ------ Laura was thankful she'd decided to wear underwear. Otherwise, she would have had a big wet spot on her cords. And that could have been a little embarrassing as they came back out into the complex.

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Working away from home on the odd weekend suited Yaz really well; she thought a lot of Cal, Yaz didn't want anything to serious they had spoke about it and Cal was fine with the situation after all she got the odd weekend to do what or who she wanted too. "You have remembered I'm working away this weekend haven't you chick?" Yaz asked Cal before heading out of the door.

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Mark had moved in with his 19yr. old girlfriend, Donna, after the break up of his marriage. He was under no illusions that the relationship would last, but at 43 years of age he was thoroughly enjoying the unbridled sexual appetite of the teenager in the meantime. He was, as he readily admitted to himself, making hay while the sun shone! The main drawback was their rather cramped existence in the single room bed-sit on the second floor of what is delightfully known as a 'multiple-occupancy' house.

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It was hellishly hot, the wind made a halfhearted effort to blow the dust from around Sally's feet but the effort was too much and the dust scarcely lifted. Five kilometers down the road Sally had abandoned her car, water pump failure, shit, on this Godforsaken stretch of road of all places. No-one ever drove alone here, the only reason she had come this way was because the distance was shorter.

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First off, it's not as bad as it sounds, really. I'm her step-father, and not her real dad. But in the end it's just an excuse. I mean, I raised her through her teen years and saw her off to college, so I guess, unless she really thought her deadbeat dad was a father to her, I was it.

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Memory triggers. They come rushing at you when you least suspect them. You can walk into a house and take in the heady aroma of a cake being baked and you'll be transported back to your grandmother's kitchen. You can smell an empty beer bottle and suddenly there you are playing hide and seek behind a pile of your uncle's empties. Smell is our most powerful sense and we all have a repertoire of aromatic triggers nicely tucked away in that gluggy grey mass we call a brain.

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I Hey! My name is Nikkie and this is my first erotically minded story . I hope you all like it and please leave your notes as to what you liked and what you didn't like, but just keep it constructive If it's liked (or at least not passionately hated), I might write another . Thank you and enjoy. :-)

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My name is Jack. A few days ago, I had sex with my son's friend, Gary. The fact is, I sucked his cock and then he fucked me with his huge member. Gary also told me that he and my son Bobby were also having sex together. I knew I should address this subject with Bobby but I didn't know how. I was frankly embarrassed. Gary basically forced me into sucking and fucking him.

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Marisa found the pub easily. The place had been described to her by one of her internet connections who knew of her propensity towards sluttish behaviour. He had suggested that if ever she visited England on business, a short trip off the beaten tourist track might be in order. The pub was in a well known British army garrison town, a place frequented almost solely by paratroopers, their reputation as wild men was well earned and Marisa had reasoned that these men would be able to give her just what she loved most, hard cock and plenty of it.

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I grew up with one really good friend all of my life. Billy had been my best pal since we were in first grade. In fact most people thought that we were brothers. He and his parents lived a few blocks over, and since my older sister seemed to have control over what was happening at my house, I spend a majority of my free time at his. It got to the point where I didn't even have to knock to get in. Mrs. Blair would always leave the door that led into the downstairs rec room open for me. Mr. Blair really didn't approve of this, being away on business as much as he was, but Mrs. Blair seemed to enjoy my comings and goings.

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