Your erotic stories

I flew into Miami International on a typical south Florida day. As I headed for the car rental desk I thought about all I had heard about South Beach. I was jolted back to reality by the clerk welcome and I handed over my papers. He quickly told me my car would be around shortly. As we completed the necessary paperwork he said there she is. He proceeded to offer his hopes for a good trip and also told me if there was anything I needed during my stay to not hesitate to call and gave me his card.

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In April last year, I was booked into the Old Bridge Hotel, Huntingdon. It was a business trip. Two days; three nights, visiting four companies in the north of Cambridgeshire. It was a nice country hotel, just off the A14 and the main street of the town, near the Godmanchester Bridge, with a U-shaped arrangement of rooms.

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I had seen Caroline around campus before and occasionally out at the bars at night. She was a total knockout, a red-haired beauty with big brown eyes that would melt you if you stared at them too long. There was something about her that looked so vulnerable, so innocent. She had a cute little nose, just slightly dotted with freckles, high cheek bones, beautiful skin, and round full lips.

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As a new college professor, I was still getting used to being back on a campus. I had spent a few years after graduating in private industry before deciding to go back for my doctoral studies. During those studies, I knew that my calling lied in teaching and started looking for a university position.

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The rain poured down in sheets across my windshield and hammered like a tinsmith on the thin roof of my cheap used car. I leaned forward on the steering wheel, driving slowly, my wipers going as fast as possible, as futile as the attempt was. An approaching set of headlights blinded me enough so that I had to hit the brakes until he passed. I flipped him off with a grumble, even though I knew he couldn't see me.

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I'm a relatively normal 25 year old guy, and the only thing "abnormal" about me is I have a panty fetish. It started when I was a teenager by playing with my mom's and sister's panties, but once I went off to college, I didn't hesitate to walk into a store and buy my own lingerie. Dresses and makeup were never my style, I didn't want to be a girl, I just wanted the silky feel of nylon panties on my cock.

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Another beautiful night in heaven, as would be expected. The dark blue sky rolled on for what seemed like eternity, the stars shining brightly down onto the soft clouds below. It was perfect. Just like last night. And the night before that, and the one before that, and every other single night, in fact. To most, it would be ideal, the paradise it should be; but not to all.

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I became a homeowner for the first time at age twenty-two. It was the summer before my senior year in college and my grandmother had just died. I expected she'd will all her money to my father – her only child. Grandma came through though and left me over two hundred thousand dollars. Although I thought about buying the most expensive car on the market, going to Hawaii and all sorts of other things, I realized that I could buy a house for myself and put apartment living (which I hated) far behind me.

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"You'll have to take Sex Education today for 4C, Miss Martin." Just the words I'd been longing to hear, I don't think. "Why me? Doesn't Mrs Annot take that?" "Normally," said the Principal with a grin, "but she just called in sick and you're the only one with free time for that period. Don't worry. The kids are only around fifteen. You can handle then with no problems."

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Melissa's mom married my dad when she was 11, and I was 19, I was renting a suite in their (my parents) house, so we kind of grew up together. While we had our share of quarrels, we also developed a really good friendship. When ever she had a question about life or what to do about something as she was growing up, she always came to me. I think it was because I was always really straight forward with her. I didn't dress anything up and told her the facts straight out.

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