Your erotic stories

I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand.

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It was not the greatest porno movie Mort had ever bought, but it had some good moments. Right now the 'star', a big-breasted woman with a blowsy blonde hairdo was energetically masturbating a muscular African-American man's huge cock. It was at least fourteen inches long and incredibly thick. Jimbo laughed at the huge appendage, "Like a fucking baby with an apple in its mouth!" he chortled.

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I've been sitting on this one for a little while. I've been meaning to touch it up. Maybe if people like it I will. All participants are over 18 and fictitious. ...My name is Camille. I don't usually feel guilty for what I do. I don't now. It doesn't worry me, but it should. I feel the need to confess in some small way... ...My name is Audrey. I can't stand it any longer. I can't face my minister.

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I am sharing my history with you for fun not trying to get a good grade for English class. I did a spell check that's good enough. Enjoy my story and comment on the story, not the grammar. * Last night was fresh in my memory, I had seen Ben's sleeping erection and then later I awoke to him having a wet dream and shooting his load on my bare back.

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I guess I am not your average 22-year-old man when it comes to women. From puberty I had the same fascination with the female form that my friend did, but my tastes always tended towards a maturer woman. While all my friends lusted after young pop stars such as Britney Speirs in her school uniform I was more attracted to Monica Bellucci who made the cinema uncomfortably hot for me in the 2nd and 3rd parts of the matrix trilogy. Similarly when my friends started getting interested in the other schoolgirls in our class I was fixated on the female teachers.

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Her face is perfect, angelic. Her eyes are a soft blue, her hair pale blond. Her features are delicate and childlike, her lips plump and tinted a soft rose. Her body is slender and sylphlike, sheathed in a high-waisted slip of a dress, gauzy and coy. He wants her, wants to possess the innocence she embodies, wants to drive himself into it, own it and shut it away so he'll be the only one to ever taste it.

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"Truth or dare?" asks Cristina. "Truth," Sammy answers. There'd be plenty of time for wild antics later. The slumber party was just getting started. "Okay..." Cristina looks around the room at her friends mischievously grinning, feigning serious consideration with a finger to her chin. She pauses extra long to build suspense and takes a swig of her wine cooler before posing her brilliant question: "Spit or swallow?"

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Chapter 1 My two fingers pecked out a staccato beat on my battered Remington as I put the final touches to the report I'd written on the case I'd just finalised. It was just a small matter of blackmail involving a young woman and a member of the clergy. For a consideration she agreed to destroy the negatives and to not reveal the sordid details of the affair to his wife and his church. She was happy that she would get her money eventually, although if I was her I wouldn't hold my breath.

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Zhinv and Nuilang (Parts 2 and 3...continued.) ZHINV, laying in the darkness of her Jade Palace bedroom, silently fell asleep petting her little fluffy kitty; purring, wet, hot and...sticky; down between her open legs, luxuriating in its soft, silky pouch, sewn into the front of her panties; to hide the kitty-cat from her father. It smelled of creamed honey and cinnamon, tinged by light whiffs of flaked fish and nutmeg. Zhinv fell asleep, sobbing in the thought of her forlorn, absent, love -- Nuilang.

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Jasmine couldn't remember the last time she had felt so desirable. It had been at least 6 or 7 years since her husband had shown any sort of affection, and both of the short-lived affairs she had engaged in, had done nothing to quell the longing within her. She was a 44 year old woman who had started to believe that by accepting the twin positions of wife and mother, she no longer had the right to be looked upon as a sexual being.

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