Your erotic stories

I met Danielle through a friend at a party. She was a hot little half Italian and half Jewish girl with a great little body, pretty face and beautiful brown hair. She was also sexy as could be. I was busy with other people at the party so we did not hook up then, but a couple months later a mutual friend of ours, Rachel, asked if Danielle could crash at my place while she looked for a place to live in Toronto.

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The young man in the story is 19 years old. This story begins in a bathroom at Washington Park in 1973... * Chapter One: Roaming eyes. I was minding my own affairs, just taking a leak in the men's room in the park, when it came to my attention that I had an audience down at the other end of the long through urinal. I glanced over, and saw that it was a guy that had been sitting on the side of the hill watching us work.

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Brock Barry Peterson was the handsomest man I had ever seen. He was over six feet tall and had smooth clear skin, blue blue eyes and white white wavy hair. He was always impeccably dressed in expensive well-tailored suits, crisp ironed shirts, and tastefully colored ties. He wore a special cologne. I don't know what it was, but it was heady. Sitting across from his desk, taking instructions, I was breathing in his aroma and getting absolutely intoxicated.

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Chapter 1 Okay, okay, let's get the laughs over with right now. "Short" career? Just how short is it? Ha, ha. Okay, ready for the real story now? My name is Marty Green, I work for an advertising agency as an account representative so I'm basically a prostitute. I knew you'd say it if I didn't.

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Hello my name is Charlize Waters. Everyone calls me Charlie. I'm quickly approaching 30 years of age and dreading it. The big 3 0. I've been pulling gray hairs out of my hair brush for the last year. I'm also noticing lines on my forehead whenever I look in the mirror. Some might say that 30 isn't old at all, but you have a tendency to feel old when the majority of your co-workers don't know who the Fraggles were and can't legally buy alcohol. I work in a college town in a store that sells textbooks and apparel for the college.

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"Is that too tight?" I asked. Sandra tried to move her wrists and was satisfied that she still had circulation, "No, no, that's fine." "Alright then, let's go, we've got a lot of miles to cover and I'd like to get on the road." I firmly griped her upper arm and escorted her to my Ford Bronco outside. She hesitated at the door of her tiny apartment and held the cuffs up, "the neighbors." I took a jean jacket she had hanging on a coat tree and draped it over her cuffed wrists.

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Ricky is simply a superb lover. He treats me to the best sexual experiences I have ever had. I get throbbing hard and dreamy-eyed when I think about having Ricky inside me. This is an account of how it goes down when we get together for some fun. Usually we'll chill on a Friday night at home, have a few cold Coronas and pop in a video. We like to kick back on Ricky's black leather sofa, usually just in athletic shorts, no underwear.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a stand-alone story but the characters are the same I used in my story 'Get A Room'. It's not a sequel but more another episode of the same show. Let me know what you think about it. - Rose * "What do you think you're doing, young lady?" The deep, booming voice sounded angry.

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"You still trying to seduce my husband?" Mrs. Anderson whispered. "I thought I told you to fill up those cups with ice?" Sara jumped. The older woman had snuck up right behind her, pinning her to the table without making a sound. "I'm not - I'm not" Sara stammered. "Sed. . ." The thought had never crossed her mind.

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It was the summer of 1976 and I was vacationing with my family in one of several log cabins that were part of an aging camp constructed in the Thirties on the shore of Lake Michigan. Each morning after breakfast I would set out combing the endless beach collecting stones and driftwood, enjoying the waves rolling over my bare feet.

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