Your erotic stories

INTRODUCTION

My name is Brian and at 27 years of age I consider myself to be bi-sexual. I love the ladies but I am not ready to make a long term commitment to one woman. I like to play the field and I love the art of seduction. Usually I am successful finding women to bed and I have found many a woman with the same objective when I am out clubbing. There are times however that I am not in the mood for the chase and I will seek out other methods of sex. 

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Tyrone Smith was home alone. Chilling in his room and watching TV was his idea of a relaxing evening, after all the stress of working and going to college. But being home for few weeks was a good break and now that he had the place to himself this evening, he could do whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was just some peace and quiet.

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Author's Note: Thank you for reading my first attempt at writing erotic fiction, "Unlikely Love". This is the first part of the story, so check back for updates. Also, please feel free to leave comments or suggestions; I would really appreciate them. Thank you. Tonight was like any other Friday night; paying off the bouncer to accept my fake idea and grant me access to the popular gay bar/strip club. Not that it was unusual.

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Walking through O'Hare airport in Chicago, I stopped short when I recognized my old friend Roger, whom I had not seen since our college days back in Oklahoma. Roger recognized me as well, as he smiled broadly and stuck out his hand. It had been almost 35 years since we had last seen each other and now we happened to meet by chance in an airport, both of us laying over for the night on business.

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Friday night, the end of another strenuous work week. Every night, it’s the same: be there at 10, get off at 3. I liked my hours at the shipping factory. It was late, not a lot a noise and I worked by myself. I wasn’t a hateful person, I just preferred working alone. I certainly wasn’t one to turn heads, either, being of average height and a slight weight of 135. I had long since overcome most of my adolescent insecurities and focused my attention on school and work.

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Konan rose at dawn from the bed he had made beneath the trees and stars at the side of the road. He stretched and ran his hands through his hair and over his body and adjusted his loincloth. He had already checked that his possessions were all there. His sword in its hard leather, iron-banded sheath, along with his knife and the small leather bag of valuables had all been wrapped in his robe, which he had rolled up and used as a pillow.

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Disclaimer: I enjoy writing these stories, both for your entertainment and mine. This story involves, gay sex, non-consensual sex and bi-racial sex. If this offends you, read no further. Like most writers, I do appreciate your comments and votes. Thank you. * It was 1996, my first year at college and my first time so far away from my home, my family and my girlfriend.

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Sunday with David. My name is Jason. I met David surfing the internet and using the chat rooms. It was probably the most significant time of my life when, at last I raised the courage to meet him. At first exchanging on the internet was like a bit of fun. Looking back it is simply unbelievable what guys do on there with the aid of skype.

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It was the wrong choice of swimwear, and I was headed back to the guest room to rectify that, when the cause of it all stopped me in the hallway. The new owner of our company had invited me to his country place for a weekend to discuss some details of a project we were working on, and it turned out there was a pool party included. But, not knowing that, I hadn't brought my suit. I had assumed this would be all business. So there I was, having to pick out a loaner suit from Thad, my boss, and I'd picked the wrong one.

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He stood by the corner, hugging a bag of films and lenses as he watched me posing shot after shot. I couldn't look away. He had the most arresting eyes. [Those swirling depths of brown]. He'd always stand by the side, watching the photo session silently with the most penetrating gaze. "Christian! Can you please concentrate!" Ruben Anders, my photographer, chided.

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