Your erotic stories

"Really, Sidonie," I said. "I didn't come to New Orleans just so I could help you keep your kinfolk in order!" My friend from college days grinned at me, lifting a rake through her big chestnut hair. Gavin, her husband, sat on the bed patiently channel-surfing while she finished getting gussied up for their evening out on the town. She was dressed in a red satin shirt, black leather pants and Doc Martens, and Gavin was equally street- and party-ready, although far less dramatic, in chinos and a polo shirt.

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I had one year to go in my studies, at university, for my degree in public relations, arts, and media studies. I was starting to get a bit desperate for money. All my university bills were due. I was working part time in a coffee shop, but that had more or less stopped, since I had refused to have sex with the owner, even though he offered to pay me 200 dollars. I just did not fancy his big fat sweaty body on mine, and I knew he would want more and more if I agreed.

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When I caught the flashing lights out of the corner of my eye, I froze. My muscles instantly tensed up and I recognized the sensation of warm adrenaline flooding my veins. not again. With apprehension, I glanced down at the speedometer. 40 in a 25.

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Paris would have been my first choice, With perhaps Rome or Amsterdam second. But Hamburg? It was hardly tourist-land. But Wendy's name had been on the entry form and she had chosen Hamburg. "We've been to all the others." She said. It had been one of those "You have been chosen..... " things, which come through the letterbox most days. I had always thought that nobody actually won anything. Wendy had been in one of her 'enter everything' moods and had won second prize.

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"Ever feel like you're not really you? Like you're just an actor pretending to be somebody?" That's exactly what I am right now - an actress stepping into costume. The same costume I wear every day. Mascara, blush, mini-skirts, tights, sleeveless blouses. I wished I had said that, but I just muttered "uh-huh" as if I were just placating her.

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We meet in a bar, me, my best sissyboy painslut & you. We are all dressed in everyday office attire; you boys look so professional in your suits. I have on a tight white blouse which strains a little at the buttons, the sheer lace of my bra clearly showing through; a straight black skirt, net stockings & heeled patent black pumps. There are other such groups in the bar & we don't look out of place as we choose a quiet corner table;

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I hung up the phone and waited to be buzzed in, maneuvering the box in my left arm so I could see my watch. Shit. Five after eight. Almost on time. Well, if I was going to be late, this was the night to do it. The normally frigid March weather was glorious. Most of the snow had melted and I'd opted for sandals instead of my usual choice of sneakers. How'd I gotten stuck babysitting on a Saturday night like this again?

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That day started like any other first day of preschool for Julie. She greeted the returning children as well as the newcomers. Parents milled around the room to see what new things Julie had set up for the children to do. As she was speaking to one concerned parent, she noticed a tall man standing in the doorway, with a large Stetson in his hand. Wrapped around his leg, was a small girl in a pretty green dress and saddle shoes. She seemed to be terrified at what she was seeing.

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I was online and horny as usual. Tonight I had posted a message on a gay cruising .org kindda site indicating that I wanted to suck a man's cock really bad as soon as possible. My profile indicates that I am a bottom and that I love to suck cock. My profile pictures there of me in action reinforce that fact along with a couple of testimonials from men who I have been very well pleased with my abilities to pleasure men sexually.

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If you asked our friends and neighbors, "Hey, what kind of couple are Ingrid and Ben?", I'm sure they'd all say, "Oh, they're very nice, very quiet." Just another dull suburbanite couple, laid-back and conservative. Appearances, as they say, can be deceiving. Maybe my friends would mention the fact that I'm a very attractive woman, the archetypical Scandinavian beauty, with pale, ice-blonde hair, china blue eyes, and flawless alabaster skin.

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