Your erotic stories

The last three years since finishing a Masters in Math, I've been teaching at a small college. Other than that, my life is lonely. I don't wish it to be. It is. Not many women fit my fantasy. It is all I can do to contain my emotions when she walks into my second year math class. I know I will be a wreck. "I'm Amy Glass," she says as she hands me the admission slip.

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One day I was out trying to drum up sales for my entrepreneurial business. I was going door to door around the surrounding neighborhoods to see if people would be agreeable to being added to my mailing list to receive my catalogs. I was dressed to give the impression of a knowledgeable business woman so that people could put their trust in me enough to be willing to sign up to my mailing list.

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The parking lot was empty, but that was nothing unusual at six in the morning. Justin rolled up and parked on the far edge of the gravel lot, letting out a yawn. He'd stayed up a little late studying, but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity his father was finally providing. Besides, it was a welcome distraction from the lack of sex resulting from dumping his cheating girlfriend a couple weeks earlier.

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I was feeling good because I had gotten off early from work. I was the assistant manager of a shoe store in a mall and I worked a very irregular schedule. I had worked four hours today, and at one o'clock I was off for the day. I was driving home, and on the seat beside me was a small paper bag with a gift in it for my wife, Linda. Light blue nylon stockings. They were really a present for both of us because I liked stockings and my wife liked wearing them for me. A perfect match.

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When my older sister Kate turned 19, she joined the college cheerleading team. She was so hot, strutting her stuff, her big, firm, knockers always pushing at the fabric of her tight top. Her miniskirt was so high on her well-toned thighs that you could nearly see the bottom of her pink cuntlips. She was not the only cheerleader who wasn't wearing panties during football practice.

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I'm not a wild girl. My roommate, Kay, is, though, so naturally she was out at the clubs while I was in our apartment studying for a macroeconomics exam. I shouldn't have even been in the class in the first place, but I had a point to prove to my father, who didn't think women were capable of anything besides home economics. I admit, it was a struggle to keep the consumption and production functions straight in my mind, but I'd be damned if I was going to give up now.

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"I'm having stupid thoughts." "Like what?" "Like that Tom's seeing someone else." "What? Surely not." Amy nodded, stepping away from the coffee machine. "But, he's not like that." Kay said, inserting her coins for a cup of her own. "You've got your paws on one of the decent ones."

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It all began when I asked Shira: "Have you been a good little girl?" My wife had been dreading this moment for hours. Indeed, she had known about her impending mortification for days. Even so, she began to blush and cry at once. It was bad enough to be treated like a baby, but to be treated so in front of her best friend was particularly humiliating.

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They say that a person's entire life flashes before their eyes when they know they are going to die. I don't believe that is true, I do know that the last three years did, though. I answered the knock on my door, expecting to be told where to go work, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the two goons standing there. They just shoved their way in, then stepped aside, separating themselves.

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Gary and Amber Anderson were preparing for dinner at her boss's house. Warren Stone had hinted at a promotion for Amber and she was overflowing with anticipation at the prospect of a more important position with the company. She excitedly modeled different dresses for her husband hoping to find one the was sexy but not overly so. When Gary picked out a low cut short red dress she inquired, "Do you think I should reveal so much of my small breasts?

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