Your erotic stories

Two friends play out a ritual during the summer of 1973. . Chapter One: Anticipation. The shower turned off, causing my heart to start beating even faster. The bathroom door was about 6 feet away from the bed where I was pretending to sleep, and I saw the shadows of movement break the light at the bottom of that door. On the other side of that door, my best friend Kenny was probably drying off, and as the steam came out from under the space at the bottom of the door I visualized what Kenny was doing.

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It was a Saturday night, during the Christmas Break and Sarah and I had nothing to do. I actually had a bit of work to get done at my apartment for my business, but, I had been putting it off to spend more time with her. When she got home that afternoon, she suggested we go out, grab something for dinner and run down to my apartment to get my project done, which she volunteered to help with. I really didn't feel like working, but, if it was an excuse to spend time together, I was in!

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You might have seen me once or twice if you happen to visit any of the lonelier cycle paths around Great Britain. I've cycled them all. Mile after mile of empty countryside – away from the cars, away from the people, and away from every other distraction of modern day life. Boring? You've got to be kidding! This is where it all happens – in the natural world, that is; and as a passionate wildlife photographer, this is all that matters to me.

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There is a large house overlooking the ocean. It stands alone on a high dune covered with sea grass. There are many balconies and windows mounted in the dark wood of the outside walls. There is a large picture window in the front of the house, and through the glass, one can see a single figure, standing still and alone. It is a woman. Her name is Passion.

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As long as I can remember, older women fascinated me. At first it was the idea of experience and knowledge that drew me to them, but as I got older I simply realized that it was more than that; it was the idea of forbidden. That's what made it for me. The story I'm about to tell happened few months ago, and not only changed my life but also the lives of many people around me. You have heard the same words over and over again in other tales, but unlike all those others, this one is actually a true one.

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It had been 15 years since her Harold had passed away, and Marge had gotten used to being alone. Of course, she had lady friends, and some male acquaintances, but at 66 years old, she had removed sex from her life, except the occasional fantasy about Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise. Harold had been the only man, except for a brief fling with his Best Man right after he passed. She chalked that up to grieving, and they had found comfort in each other, although he felt so guilty afterwards that they stopped it after 2 dates.

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"I can't believe that you two are leaving me next week. You guys are just the most horrible people in the world." "We know, its what adds to our charm." Jason flashed his award winning smile. "I'm serious, you two don't know how much my life is going to suck after you guys move off to college." Together, that's the worst part Chelsea thought to herself.

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Hello, my name is Cleo and I'm a sex relationships councilor. I only write about the cases my patients give me permission to do. I tell them what this site is all about and stress that in order for their story to gain attention, it has to be true and be told in the naughtiest, most detailed manner possible. Why "naughtiest"? Because that is what apparently holds this audience's interest.

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Lynne has become very frustrated and unsure of her sexual inclinations of late. It has begun to be an all consuming thought lately. Horny would be merely comfortable compared to her current sexually frustrated condition. Her current situation has come about after a series of dates over the last year or more in which the men have been very aggressive and forceful in every case on the verge of date-rape.

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In the year 1008 as reckoned in Rome on the Julian Calendar, Brother Cyryl Procopius was given a writ of Accession to take over the Parish of St. Adelbert in the Polish town of Virlun at the edge of the God-forsaken Wood of Mldawa. It was well known that the world ended at the Bug river, and that the Woods of Mldawa were the beginning of the Great Wilderness that surrounded the realm of Blessed Christendom, a place where Satan and his minions held sway out of the reach of God and his all his angels;

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