Your erotic stories

"I'm sorry, what was that you just said, Mrs. Pettington?" What a tiresome woman. I had just now been distracted from listening to her by the way she snapped her fingers at Kisula and then gave him a distasteful look when he refilled her coffee cup. "I said, Mr. Woolston, that I hardly think we need worry about these rumblings from the tribal huts. England has held this protectorate in Tanzania since the war, and we will do so as long as the London cafés need their coffee."

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It had become a regular occurrence. Roy would visit on Saturday morning, if his sister did not spend the night, and get his cock sucked and fuck my ass. At times it was still very exciting but all to often it seemed that we just went through the motions, meeting out of habit more than anything.

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On the hottest, steamiest night of the summer in the big city, I almost met my Maker. I was an undercover cop working for the vice squad, about to observe and take part in a drug transaction outside the Frisky Bar, a gay strip joint in a seedy part of town.

Moving down the alley closer to the drug buy, I moved out of sight of my partner (a mistake), and passing behind a dumpster, I saw the perp and his customer.

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So it was New Years eve, the time to party, to celebrate, and with any bit of luck, get laid. And in the past I've had absolutely no problems getting laid on New Years Eve. Sometimes it was because I was lucky, others it was because I lowered my standards, or alcohol lowered them and I got laid. In either case my main goal of having sex has been accomplished on NYE since I turned 18, and I'm now 29. So I guess I am at least guaranteed to get laid once a year.

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I had just closed escrow on a house I found in Manhattan Beach, a better part of Los Angeles County than my old digs--closer to the beach. I spent the day moving in my furniture, and as the sun went down, to celebrate I drove to a restaurant I saw on Sepulveda Boulevard. I sat at the bar and ordered a Knob Creek and soda--a little 100 proof whiskey was just what I needed. 

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One night I was hanging out with my good friend Rich. Rich was a big guy, 6'4" about 240, big Nordic looking guy. We were hanging out listening to music, just bullshitting, drinking beers and smoking weed. About 1:30 in the morning we started to get drowsy. I didn't really want to see him drive home, we were loopy enough to be an issue if a cop pulled him over.

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Danny was killing time at the one and only shopping mall in his little town, as he did most Saturdays afternoons, when he noticed the blonde muffin. He felt the familiar ache in his groin, in his heart and in his brain as his eyes drank in the stranger's beauty. This guy was born to induce lust; he was the kind of man that always got Danny's pulse racing: big-boned, blonde and beefy with down-home looks on an open, honest face.

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Tay opened his eyes, waiting for the headache to kick in. The night before had been great, they had finally managed to get the whole group together again for the first time since they left University. With everyone scattered across the country it had taken a year to manage.

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The Video Tape

Over the next three or four weeks, Scott and I sucked each other off whenever and wherever we could. Unfortunately, the weather had turned very cold and we couldn't spend as much time at the cave. Instead, we had weekend sleep-overs, where we would take turns blowing each other and of course, jerking each other off. We were almost caught again by Scott's older brother when he had come home from college for a long weekend. We still thought it was he who had left the gay magazine in Scott's room. 

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"I know why you did it." Ray stared out of the bedroom window, watching the sun slowly disappear behind the distant hills. A gentle breeze lapped at the curtains and caressed his face soothingly. It was a perfect evening. "I knew you would come," he replied. He reached for his walking stick and slowly turned to his companion. "I've missed you. Welcome home."

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