Your erotic stories

If there was ever a reason to go to the salon to get my hair done every two weeks other than to enhance my beauty, it was to admire Beauty. Look at her, she is fine as hell! What I wouldn't do to get my hands on her locs, and I don't mean to twist them. Well actually, I would love to twist them and pull them and grab them and oh my bad, got lost in my thoughts.

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I believe martial arts saved my life. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ) to be specific. It saved me from obesity, low self-esteem, and it even stopped a rape once. I love both the qualities on the inside that make me who I am and the way I look on the outside. But it took a while for me to get here. I grew up fat. No, not just fat. Obese. The problem started in about sixth grade and got worse through the cruel years of junior high and high school.

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I always liked to leave aerobic class late. My teacher was truly the first women I ever had a crush on. She was a perfect 5'6" with long thick blonde hair she wore in braids and the most perfectly shaped tits. I had had enough fantasizing and I was about to approach her when she walked into the shower room.

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Just Try It. Man am I bored! Here it is, a Friday night and I am stuck at home. Alone. I have no man – ditched him after I found him fucking his best friend. Didn't the shit hit the fan that night! Hahahaha pun intended.

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The summer was only half over and I missed Shauna. We had been keeping in touch both by phone and e-mail, but I decided a trip to Vegas was in order. I decided to give Shauna a call and ask her if it would be OK. "How about some company one of these days?" "Are you serious?" "I think its time for a little trip. Don't you?"

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Girls like her should come with warning labels, the kind you see on coffee these days, Caution: Hot. This girl was molten. I, of course, had no clue just how right I was, but I would of course be schooled quickly.

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After a long restful night's sleep in the arms of Salina and Maria, Brigette retreated to her arch room to prepare for the day with her new gift, a wooden cock. Her loving teachers admonished her to practice her poetry and calligraphy by composing around the topic of her first true sexual experience with them the previous night as well as use her new gift. They then retreated to their own chambers to handle their individual morning oblations.

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Bridget set the last pin holding a stray curl into place. Twirling her finger around a single copper strand, she ensured her hair looked perfect at a glance. Taking a soft brush from the counter she ran it back and forth across the pink compact. Tapping the brush against the sink she lifted the bristles to feather the color along her cheekbones.

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Some days I don't know how I can go on living without her. Other days our arrangement, the secret rendezvous and the brief but passionate stolen moments we find to make love to one another ... well, it certainly isn't taking anything away from our 'committed' relationships. We both have wonderful and enjoyable relationships with our boyfriends, just, each other on the side as well.

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Joan looked up at the clock. It seemed to have stopped at 3:28, but that was probably just her imagination. Her watch also said 3:28. Mind you, she'd been pretty sure for a while that her watch had stopped too. Maybe both of them had stopped. Time seemed to have been doing funny things to Joan all day. At some points, it had been going by unpleasantly quickly, sneaking past her when she wasn't paying attention.

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