Your erotic stories

When I started dating Ted I knew there was something different about him, finding out that he was bisexual might have been it until I discovered he enjoyed taking it up the ass from me with a strap on. At least for me, that, qualified as different.

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Steve had thought that he'd have a quiet Saturday afternoon to himself. The house was empty. His wife had gone shopping with friends, the boys were out with their mates and Kirsty had to go to the library to complete the paper she had to write. She'd hoped not to go, but found she was missing some information at the last minute and so had to make a quick dash.

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I drove up early Saturday morning. I remember he said he went there about every weekend and I was hoping this weekend would be no exception. I drove about the country with no luck of finding his street so I stopped by this lone gas station sitting out on some country road to ask for directions. The place looked abandoned when I pulled in, but I got out and went to the small office and opened the door and asked if anyone was there.

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"Mmmmm," I sighed as I rolled over and stretched. What a night. Lying next to me was my new friend and lover Jessie. Smiling, I began to play out the previous night in my head. The surprise that the Jessie I was meeting was a woman, the bigger surprise that I was attracted to her and the biggest surprise, that I had brought her home with me.

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So my sister Missy was a stripper. So what. I had some problems with a few of my friends when they found out; endless questions and defense of her character. It was even worse if friends actually saw her perform. I had a real falling out with a friend who, drunk, asked me if I ever wanted to fuck her. That stuff was tough to deal with, but, hey, I was her brother and it was my job to defend her. She was an adult and could do what she wanted.

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I love summer. Hot days are best. Hot, bright days that bring out beautiful women with long, smooth legs and deep cleavages. Bare shoulders and thin straps support light summer dresses and strappy sandals caress tanned ankles. Thin tops that cling to perky breasts and give a hint of nipple. Denim cut-offs that give tantalizing glimpses of the crease between thigh and buttock. Unexpected breezes that whips up the unsuspecting summery skirt, giving flashes of pale buttock and pink G-string.

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I noticed my hand shaking as I reached for the door and stopped to pull myself together. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I kept thinking if I was so scared how's he feeling. Poor little guy. But then this is what he'd wanted. He's my college roomie and at 5' 6" he really is just a little guy, but cute as a button. At least I think so. Me? I tower above him like nobody's business, by an entire foot if you can believe it. He's a skinny guy with these graceful moves sort of like a dancer. He may not be a muscle bound jock but I really go for his looks.

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I sat eating a simple grilled cheese and a bowl of potato soup. Well, perhaps not eating as I was enraptured by a woman sitting with another having lunch three tables away from me. Her friend had her back to me but I did not care. She was not the source of my attention. No, I was spellbound by the woman facing me. And because of that I was somewhat surprised.

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Missy is "a giver" - happy to help out, to run an errand, to pitch in when times are tough or just to sit and listen when all that is needed is a shoulder to cry on and the reassurance that one is in the right. That generous nature has its fullest expression when Missy loves. The men in her past life unexpectedly found little bags of their favorite snacks in their brief cases.

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From the moment I saw her hunched over the register, I knew I needed her. Her soft doe eyes awkwardly begged my forgiveness as she pulled the damp fingernail from her pink lips and ran her hand down the side of her worn jeans. A slight smell of menthol cigarettes wafted from her sandy brown hair as she reached for one of the items on the conveyor belt.

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