Your erotic stories

The last of our friends leave, which leaves us alone in her room and the entire house. I sit nervously next to her on the bed, and drink some of my beer. The only thing I can think about is what happened last night. I'm too embarrassed to bring it up, but she does it for me.

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"It's a girl, Mom!" My son-in-law Zack chirped exuberantly through the phone. "It's a girl. You have a beautiful granddaughter." Pressing my cell phone firmly to my ear, I couldn't believe how blank my mind had suddenly gone. Of all the things I thought I would say at this moment, I was at a complete loss for words and was finding it difficult to breathe.

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Everyone in this story is over eighteen. It may seem a little slow to get going, as I've attempted to explore the girl's feelings as she takes her first steps into Lesbian love, and is then taken into willing slavery. 'Can I help you, Sonny?' had said a gruff voice from behind the market stall. That did it. Just past my eighteenth birthday, and the combination of track-suit, short hair and no make-up had me marked as a boy.

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At the age of 13, I was having wet dreams of kissing my best friend. I was far too naïve to know that girls could do anything other than kiss, and far too horny to cum from less than a kiss. My best friend Marissa was shaping up to be very beautiful.

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All characters are over the age of 18. Chapter 1 "Sarah-Jane, could you come to the board and solve the equation please? Remember to show your work." Mrs. Stannis, the math teacher at Holy Trinity School for Girls, asked in her quiet voice. The students had talked at length that Mrs.

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She thought I had forgotten. It's pretty impossible; it's two weeks after mine exactly. Her temper tantrums as of lately have been cute. It'll make tonight so much more fun. I haven't said anything about her birthday and it's cute that she's stressing about it. Not to toot my own horn or anything but, I'm the best girlfriend ever.

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"Missy... wake up!" "Who... what is it?" "It's me, Officer McDonald. Come on, sweetie, wake up!" "What time is it?" "Shhhh! It's just after three in the morning. Come on, get up." "Why?"

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Sharon stood in front of her closet, sliding hangers one way, then the other. She really had no desire to go out tonight, but Jeff had made it very clear, this evening was important. If he was ever going to make the right connections in the company or have any chance of moving up the Corporate Ladder, this was the going to be the first rung.

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I was in Montreal on business, though this day certainly wouldn't be as arduous as others. A client of mine had invited me and 100 of his closest friends to celebrate the purchase of his fourth home. Known for his extravagant tastes (usually quite urban), this house was surprisingly located on Lake St. Louis in Beaconsfield—an upscale, but very private area.

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The Law firm Samantha worked for, Johnson, Bollocks and Hymen, had recently expanded their practice into other cities; moving outside their corporate Los Angeles location, and opening two new office locations in Australia and New Zealand; Sydney and Auckland respectively.

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