Your erotic stories

Once, there was a girl. She was a rather normal girl, with a sweet personality, but ordinary. The girl was responsible, pretty, if not quite beautiful with an unruly mop of auburn curls and piercing blue eyes. The young lady's greatest pride was her academic grades at her school. Every semester she made Dean's list, and the scholarships she won paid her way through school. She never caused a disruption and was a delight to her teachers. Life for her was simple, not complicated by boyfriends, or parties. She was completely ordinary, not noticeable in the least. Her name was Elizabeth.

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Jenni had come to LA about a year ago to make her name as an actress. She hadn’t worked for over two months, now, though. That was why she was wearing a too-tight yellow bikini and preparing to take yet another tray of drinks out to a bunch of drunk rich boys who weren’t much older than she was. She sighed and tried to readjust her panties but whichever way you looked at it (and those guys were looking pretty hard) the bikini briefs were too small, riding high between the symmetrical cheeks of her perfect ass.

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I was born into a working class family that was always struggling to pay the bills. My three siblings and I never had any luxuries. Mom and Dad divorced when I was five, and Dad disappeared. We all worked at part time jobs; there was no talk of me going to college. But in my case something extraordinary happened when Dad's wiggly little tadpole met up with Mom's so porous membrane—as Emeril would say, "BAM": a perfect combination of genes, DNA, or whatever produced a female of exceptional beauty.

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Kate was feeling a bit awkward. She didn't view herself as an anti-social person, but parties really weren't here thing. She was fine with people one on one, but had difficulty integrating into groups. The fact that she didn't really know anyone other than Nathaniel made it especially difficult for her. She felt bad about clinging to his side, but was too nervous to leave it and be surrounded by complete strangers. Even with a few drinks in her, she just couldn't seem to let her guard down and meet new people.

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Well, today is the big day! Stacy thinks the moment she wakes up. She blinks her baby blues open to see the streaks of sunlight across her room. The walls are bare and all of her stuff is piled around the room in cardboard moving boxes. Today, Stacy moves out of her parent's house to begin college. She stretches and hops out of bed. The smell of her mother's breakfast is prominent throughout the house. Stacy heads downstairs.

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This evening was like any other evening in the underground metropolis that lay beneath the city streets. Nothing but the feel of the car's vibration as they moved along the tracks and the almost silent whir of the electric motors that powered them mattered at this moment in time. As Sylvester the Cat would say, "what a revoltin' development!" . Here I was, riding around on the subway when I should have already been home.

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Chapter One Coercion and Perversion Emily walked through the front doors of the hotel and towards the elevators. She may have been closer to forty than she would have liked, and although she was no longer had the body of a fashion model she knew she still had the looks, and the figure, to get admiring glances from men of all ages, particularly when she took the time to dress well, as she had today.

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The activities I had this past weekend with Chelsea, Derek and their friends faded as best they could as I went about my normal classes the following week. Being exposed like that to former classmates was as humiliating an experience as I had ever had. The worst part of this experience was knowing that a guy I had thought could be my boyfriend, Derek, had seen me and fucked my ass while I was Chelsea's slave.

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1. When she was nineteen, two bandits dressed-up as Indians killed Molly Sheridan's father and her three younger brothers, and burned their ranch. They carried her off, but hadn't tied her hands properly, perhaps because they'd got so drunk, perhaps only because they didn't imagine she could give them any trouble, bound or no. Thus as they were riding, she was able to get hold of one of their pistols, and shoot the men dead.

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Olivia scurried nervously down the pot-holed street of the poor, downtown neighborhood of the city. Having grown up in the wealthy suburbs, she had only visited this part of town once or twice in her life. She recalled coming down here with her father on one of his business errands a couple years back. As she breathed in the hot night air, she recalled from that earlier trip the same sweet, slightly rotten smell of the city in the summer.

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