Your erotic stories

Jenna was SO EXCITED!! Her freshman year of college had just ended last week but the week before that her roommate had let her know about an amazing opportunity. PARIS - LONDON - ROME- She couldn't believe it really. It was a summer study abroad trip and one of the students had canceled at the last minute.

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I stormed out the door, but before I slammed it I said "You can just stay in the room and pout if you want to. We paid all the money to come to this ocean-front resort, and I am going to the beach!" Lisa is my gay girlfriend, and she has been acting bitchy lately. I have about had enough. She is 22 which is technically an adult, but she can be very childish. I am ten years her senior, but before you accuse me of robbing the cradle let me point out that she seduced me.

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Hot, parched, in need of at least a beer, I crutched into the darkened bar and though the blue haze of cigarettes and reek of days old beer. I was surprised that it would be so busy at nearly three in the afternoon. Maybe everyone else was thirsty I thought. The stool scraped across the floor in a loud symphony of un-tuned instruments. I rested my hips on it then leaned my crutches against the edge of the bar.

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My back was killing me by two o'clock. At eighteen I'm in good shape but, Damn! My sister has a lot of crap! Some how it's become my job to move it all. My dad would help, but at sixty his back doesn't need the strain. And he's working on the family barbecue grill.

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All he could think about was her ass. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and her pussy had provided him more pleasure than most men could only dream about in a lifetime. But he couldn't stop thinking about her asshole, that sweetly puckered opening, so tightly closed, so vulnerable. What was wrong with him?

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My name is Pete Smith and most people would describe me as a fairly normal guy. I am aged 35 and presently single. I am of medium build and not too fat, not really handsome but also not ugly. Most people would look at me and think I was an average type of happy go lucky guy. I work long hours doing night shifts on my own as a security guard in a large building full of admin offices for a large multi national company.

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I was around thirty-eight at the time. I'd been off work for a few weeks after I'd broken my arm on the boats...at least that's what I'd told the doctor. Once I got the sling off, he told me to do some light exercise to help fix the break, and he suggested I go to the Y in town and do a couple of lengths of the pool a day. I'm a big guy anyway, and I've never had much need of exercise, but it certainly sounded like a change from looking for jobs and watching the tube all day.

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She had been sitting outside for about thirty minutes, waiting for him to come home from work, and watching the clouds build up to the northwest of them. There was a distant rumble of thunder and a few brief glimpses of lightening. And then she heard the siren go off on the golf course behind the house and knew that the storm was headed their way.

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As I woke up, slowly feeling my senses come back to me, a slight fuzzy light hitting my eyes, a slow ringing in my ears, a bit of a parched throat, I tried to get a sense of my bearings. I hate mornings like this. So discombobulated in those first few moments, needing to piece together the details of last night. Clearly I had had to much to drink, clearly I was a bit hungover.

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Part I It started out as one of the worst dates I'd ever had. He was good looking enough, to be sure... tall, blonde, and decent muscles showed through the nice suit. And he had money. Designer sunglasses hid his emerald eyes while he drove, and when he laid them down; it was on the dash of a beautiful blue Ferrari convertible. But his arrogance was overwhelming.

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