Your erotic stories

"Taxi! Taxi!" Sabrina Kelley waved her hand furiously as the icy Manhattan wind whipped through and around her bones. The New York skyline was rapidly approaching dusk and the evening forecast predicted a heavy round of snowfall in just a matter of hours. Though there was no one there to greet her or make her feel at home, Sabrina desperately wanted to make it back to her hotel room before the bad weather began.

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My first two years out of high school, I attended a community college, and worked as a delivery driver for a well-known pizza delivery chain we'll call "Checkers" to protect the innocent. It was a pretty good job. Most of the drivers were needed in the evening so it didn't interfere with classes. You got paid a salary, tips and commission (to pay for gas) which averaged more than $8.00 an hour when minimum wage was closer to $4.00.

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On the outside I've never been weird in any way. I'm popular, with girls and guys. I have normal interests. I go to parties, get drunk, have fun, have normal relationships. I could have sex, normal sex, and enjoy it a normal amount. But it is only when I think about rape that I really start to feel that heat like nothing else. A hollow aching inside me, yearning to be filled.

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'Old Vinyl Classics – The station that brings you the greatest hits of the 60s, 70s and...' The old car stereo in my car crackled as I turned it off and parked my car alongside the curb. Once again I was in a familiar part of town; it was a place where I had parked my car many times during the past two years or so. Once again, I was on my way to band rehearsal, and again I was running a bit late, as was the case more often than not. To be honest, I really didn't care that much. A few months ago, things had been different.

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From the first second I saw him I knew I wanted him. He had a phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, eating from a bowl of cereal as he walked around the pool in his backyard. The baggie board-shorts he wore would dip a little with each step revealing the paler skin of his ass and top of his crack. I kept half an eye on him from the concealment of my sunglasses while I worked.

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10. Sometime in late July, the first year. My hair splayed out around me as the trickling flow of the stream lifted and carried it. Soothed by the water, my body warmed in the desert sun. I held Tom's hand and squeezed with love. We had been lying in the creek for nearly half an hour, letting our tired bodies come back to themselves after fucking so so hard.

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Annabelle's cotton sheets have ducks on them. They're not made of as nice of a material as the satin I'm laying on now, but the ducks are so cute and so her. I can imagine Annabelle's face when she'd determined that I stood her up on New Year's Eve. I feel so horrible and so cold.

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“It’s a journal,” said Joanne, “It’s for your own personal entries; to write in there what you eat, when you exercise and your thoughts.” Joanne is beautiful; she has blonde hair, blue eyes, full lips and an unbelievable body. She is the epitome of an Aerobic Instructor. She is also the Nutritionist at the Oasis Health Club, which I have just recently joined. 'Are these people for real?' I think to myself. The last time I wrote in a diary, I was 12 years old. I stand there looking from her to the “journal”;

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I was driving cross-country to visit my parents. Halfway across the state I stopped in at a motel to spend the night. It was quite a nice motel, all mod cons, including a swimming pool. And, on a hot sultry night like the current one was shaping up to be, a swimming pool sounded rather appealing.

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Sorry no sex scene's. This is Part 2 to Prison Time. I hope you enjoy. Hayden had only been gone a couple of days before I talked myself into believing he had moved on with someone else. I knew I couldn't take Hayden home to my mother. She would freak out, so would the rest of my family.

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