Your erotic stories

My name is Scott and this story is about the summer after I graduated High school. I had one of the most erotic experiences of my life back then. Like most truly spontaneous adventures, the events of that summer have affected me in a manner, which I am convinced has driven my libido to the point of constant desire to this day.

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"You've got to talk to me, Babe." His fingers trailed down her throat...down her chest...over the curve of her breast, the nails leaving the slightest trace of redness in their wake. Her body arched instinctively, hungry for his touch. She writhed there, tugging at the nylon cuffs that kept her wrists bound over her head.

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One Saturday morning, Barbara and I went to the local Mall to do a little shopping. This is about a once a month event. We normally split up when we get there and go our separate ways for a while. We always decide to meet at a particular place and time (I usually opt for Friendlys' or the Coffee and pastry shop). Today was no different; we were to meet at the coffee shop at about twelve thirty.

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I paused, and looked back down the track I had followed up the hill. The Downs in high summer have a special quality. The sweet smell of bracken, the softness of the rolling hills, the cool and quiet of the patches of woodland, the hum of the insects in the hot sunshine and the tracks leading mysteriously away from the ridge path through the brilliant green of the tall bracken. They are places of beauty whatever the season but most especially in late July.

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Jodi and I have been friends all our lives. Growing up, she probably spent as many nights at my house as she did at home. My Mom called Jodi their third daughter. We shared nearly everything from 5th grade on -- everything but Jeremy Elder, the biggest hottie in our class.

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Rob Jenkins was taking the garbage to the alley just as the sun came up. The truck came early, and he did not want to miss this collection; his family had a lot of trash. He wanted to put it out the night before, but his mother said no. She was fearful that dogs would knock the container over and spread their garbage around. There were rats in the alley, and she did not want to provide any food for them.

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"What's for dinner? Lamb chops, I hope. You do those so well." "Of course, if that's what you want, Ely. If that's what you want, than that's what we'll have." He's got no taste buds left, I think. What does he care if it's lamb, pork, or shit? Note to self—while I try to keep my voice from having the sarcastic edge Ely had complained about of late. Of course we don't have any lamb chops in the house. I'll have to go to the market.

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Beverly was crying. Her bosom heaved up and down as each sob wracked her body. "I've got to leave you, Gary. I can't live a lie anymore!" I cradled her in my arms, wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks, her farm girl freckles magnified by each drop. We sat on the couch, in the third year of our marriage, as I tried to make sense out of what Bev was saying. This often was not easy, as she was no rocket scientist. But Bev's simple, kind nature more than made up for her lack of mental prowess. She loved me truly.

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"Sh, Sh, Sh, sweet baby, it is going to be ok." Looking at the wall clock, I notice it is 4 a.m. 2 hours of non-stop crying. What started as a little whimper has gone into a full blown distress cry. I am now officially a single mom. Emily is a week old and we are trying to learn how to breastfeed together.

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What attracted me to... Linda Groves at first was the hair on the arms. The blonde that worked with me at my part-time job at the grocery store during my first year of college was not extraordinary looking in any other way, but one look at her arms got my attention right away.

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