Your erotic stories

My name is Steve Larsen and for as long as I can remember, I’ve loved Laura Martin. Since grade school she has lived 3 doors down from me. We shared our first kiss when she was 8 and I was 9 and we’ve had our ups and downs over the years, but we’ve shared a unique friendship. We would compete for grades, while all the time helping each another study. Laura was beautiful, bright, and had a sparkling sense of humor. I could trust her with any secret and in times of trouble, there was no one that I could count on like Laura.

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The Schoolhouse was Rob and Penny's first home together and it was perfect. The grey stone building had lots of character and was set in a very private garden just outside the village which was only an hour's commute to Rob's office. Rob's recent promotion meant that Penny had been able to give up her IT job with a major corporation and the aim was for her to work from home setting up the software business which she had always wanted to run.

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Sometimes I wish I'd kept track of just how many times I've been in my favorite coffee shop. Surely it was in the hundreds by now. Somehow they survived the invasion of chain coffee shops, probably because they always had some vegetarian food and fresh soup ready for the college kids. It was an odd layout that only a small town without city planning can create.

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Many would say I was doubly cursed, while few others would say blessed when it comes to what turns me on sexually. Since I can remember I have always been attracted to women with sexy legs and feet, as well as having my balls roughly fondled to the point of seeing stars. I really only had one girl friend who gave me pleasure in this way. Unfortunately I did not find her until my senior year in High School.

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I first went to Florence with my parents when I was 18. We were to spend five days there as part of a tour of Italy. When we arrived at the Hotel late in the afternoon the manager and I found that we could talk to each other in French and so, as my parents didn't speak Italian, I did the negotiations. When we had sorted out the rooms the manager asked me quietly if I would like to take a bath a little later and I had agreed that I would like a bath sometime after dinner. We finished our meal about 9pm and I said good night to my parents and went back in my room via the lobby. The manager was there and smiled at me as I passed.

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Veronica Andrews felt the familiar pressure on her bladder the moment she awoke. She turned her head and saw the alarm clock on the bedside table showed 12:47, and she rolled out of bed gently not to wake her husband. In silent bare feet on carpet she quickly and quietly made her way in the dark to the bathroom. She did her business in dimmed light, and as she walked out the bathroom door a surge of curiosity got her attention.

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Drew put-in before Dooley Bridge, his goal being to photograph the length of the river through town, marking its changes as it went from rural to urban to estuarine environments in the space of four miles. Being June and approaching the summer solstice in this northern state, the sky began to lighten before five in the morning. Drew had been up since four, having loaded his kayak onto his Subaru the previous evening. His main goal was to be up before the tourists and their jet skis, and he had provided himself a wide buffer.

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It began with a fire in the upstairs Lingerie Department of my local Debenhams department store. Something in the adjacent restaurant had exploded in a ball a flame, and the first thing I knew was one of the attendants grabbing me by the arm and hauling me out of my cubicle. To say the situation was inopportune would be a gross understatement.

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It is a Saturday just like any other for Isabella. She lies in bed listening to the familiar ticking of the clock as dawn creeps towards daylight. It is 4 a.m. and she resists the urge to toss and turn in this familiar state of early waking that has become her newest habit. She will not give into the frustration of it.

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Something changed in my life when I looked up and saw him. A beautiful young man in vest and jeans, sun shining and lighting his body as it hip-jerked with laughter. Tanned shiny muscles, soft but strong. Tight flat stomach, He knew he looked good. He pushed his body forward, he displayed his muscles, he turned easy and relaxed. His jeans were deliciously tight, bewitching. But I could see something else.

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