Your erotic stories

Sitting opposite me was an old lady loaded up with shopping bags. Other than her there were only two others on the train. As it neared my station I rose to go to the doors and the old lady rose also, struggling with the bags and packages. "Let me help you," I volunteered. "Thank you I seem to have overloaded myself slightly and appreciate your help," she said in a very soft voice, she smiled at me as she said this.

read more

We hadn't spoken for weeks when Kait sent me an email from two time zones away. When Kait sends any 'report' from the front line of her life it indicates that something serious is happening. More than three lines suggests that emotions have been tampered with, sex is on the horizon or there's a 'what do you think about this' question to ponder.

read more

Last summer, I was on a vacation with my girlfriend, Olivia, and her parents, Grace and Steve. It was morning and Olivia was out fishing with her dad as I lay in bed watching the cable news and having a bit of a playtime with my hand inside my boxers, when Olivia's mom walked in, wrapped in a large towel from her shower, looked at me, laughed and asked, "Taking inventory, are we?"

read more

I'd been having this dream. I'm not even sure what it was about, but it had something to do with warm and wet. Then, I woke up with my cock in her sweet, soft mouth. I looked down, and saw this shiny mass of bed-tousled auburn hair and deep blue-green eyes, staring straight into mine. Full, soft lips were wrapped around my dick. I haven't yet figured out how someone can give you a blowjob, and smile at the same, but Danielle can do it. She lifted her head, and there was an audible "pop" when I came out of her mouth.

read more

I grew up in a very small town. Well, I didn’t even grow up in it, I actually had to grow up outside of town. It was a simple life for my family. Starting in our early teens, my brother and I started mowing lawns. It was a good job for us, being in school. We’d go to school and mow lawns in the evenings or weekends. When summertime rolled around, we’d do even more.

read more

Imagine a good-looking guy, tall, straight, intelligent, 20 years old and still a virgin. Sounds strange doesn't it? Still it exactly describes my situation at the time. Sure, I'd had girlfriends. You know how these things go. They all wanted to kiss, and in some cases they even let me touch there breasts, but sex… nope. On the other hand my friends all seemed very experienced. They told me stories about how they made love to loads of women and I could only nod. Nobody knew that I was still a virgin and I was afraid of telling them the truth.

read more

I have always been attracted to older men. It was clear to me that they enjoyed watching me and I suspected they often dreamed about what it would be like to play with me. I'm not talking about board games or cards I mean really playing with me. I was a very well endowed girl. Knowing that men, especially older man, liked to look at my breasts was very exciting. It was easy for me to accidently brush up against them and sense them quiver with excitement when they felt my nipples, hard and stiff resting within inches of their hands.

read more

It was pouring rain as I pounded on the door to my best friend's house. The lights weren't on and her car wasn't in the driveway, but I was so enraged that I didn't care. I was about ready to give up on the door and just crash through the front window when the light in the front hall came on and the door flew open. "What in the hell..." Ashley's dad looked furious until he saw me. His jaw dropped as he looked at me, and he was silent for a moment. "Nicole, what's going on?"

read more

I was making my rounds in an electric cart of a local supermarket, picking up a few things for dinner, minding my own business ... and keeping an eye out for a shapely bottom or a full-sized breast or just a pretty face when ... I caught a glimpse of all three in the same jeans-and-vee-neck-blouse ahead of me.

read more

CHAPTER 1 Kate Scott, a curvy brunette and associate editor of the Evening Herald and judge of the newspaper's story competition, smiled when she read the covering note attached to the thick manuscript. My name is Harry Blackwell. I submit this story as my entry in the Evening Herald's Annual Best Story Competition. I don't believe I have much chance of winning the $100 prize and have to admit my entry is many times over the 800-word limit but there you are.

read more