Your erotic stories

Wedding time. Not Dan's, of course, but that of Marc Chapman's sister, Belinda. Dan and Marc had gone to college together, and he had gotten to know the Chapman family well during the summer months. Though Dan and Marc did not know each other in high school, they did grow up in nearby towns; as such, they saw each other frequently when they were home from school.

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Ed Friar wasn't surprised to discover his son Nicholas waiting outside the front door of his flat when he got home from work -- Nick had arranged weeks before to stay that night, as he was going to a party near where his father lived -- and nor was he surprised to find that Nicholas had a girl with him -- Nick had said something about that in advance, too. What left Ed bemused was that the first thing he saw of either of the two visitors was the girl's nearly naked bottom.

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I lay in the bathtub, watching steam rise from the warm water. I should have felt relaxed, but I did not. I waited apprehensively. Nothing could calm my nerves. Not the dozen candles that lit the bathroom. Not even the New Age CD that filled the room with the comforting sound of the ocean washing against the shore.

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I walked down the hill on the west side Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown, crossing the C and O canal, and stopped outside the window of a small women's boutique. The window displays indicated a variety of fine clothing and accessory items, immaculately arranged and appointed, so I entered. A small bell attached to the door jingled, announcing a visitor.

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Several pictures of her were tucked into the sides of the mirror over his dresser. Most were school pictures, and one was of the two of them together, their arms wrapped around each other, both of them smiling at the camera. My hand, holding the brush that I had picked up from amidst the clutter on his dresser, stopped in mid-air as I peered at those pictures.

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Summer was coming to a close, and Jason was about to start his final year of high school. All his life he had let his neurotic over-analytical nature control how he interacted with people. He had always put too much thought into everything, and as such had wasted his childhood. He believed he was unpopular, and therefore he was. With the social experience he had gained over the summer however: after having turned 18, going to parties, and fucking a busty young mall rat senseless, Jason was ready to improve his social standing. Life was finally a game he was ready to play.

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Mandi’s headlights served almost no usefulness in the snowstorm. It would take her an hour to get home down the winding 2 lane highway creeping along at 35 miles an hour. She bristled as she thought of the horrible day she had at work, almost half the staff had called in due to the weather and she lived further than all but Joan and had much worse roads to travel on. She had to fill in for Stewart in sales and had actually made a sale to a new customer from Nashville. She didn’t like sales much but as inventory manager and purchasing agent she knew the product line better than anyone who had made the attempt to get into the office.

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It's 4:48 AM by the clock on the nightstand. I can hear you stirring behind me in the bed, your arm reaches out instinctually to find my waist and snuggle in. Knowing how hard I find it to sleep without you, I wonder do you do that even when I'm away, and when you find the bed empty, do you clutch the pillows close and pretend it's me?

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I had just recently met Tiffany, who was a nineteen year old sophomore at the university I'm attending. I must say that Tiffany is absolutely gorgeous. She has long chestnut brown hair with striking dark-colored eyes. Tiffany is about five-five and weighs 115Ibs, and she has the most gorgeous set of legs I've ever seen on a woman (well, in my opinion).

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Here's another story for you guys that's been bouncing around inside my head for a while. Hope you enjoy. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Hi, my names Richard Williams, Rich to my friends. I live in southern California with my mom Stacy. My dad died when I was too young to remember. The accident that killed my dad, while tragic, was made less so by the size of the settlement his company paid my mom.

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