Your erotic stories

Kendra pulled the note out of her pocket and read it again. Kendra, I'm sorry that I've hurt you. What we had was great. But, we both know that it's time to move on. I hope that someday you can look back on this and not hate me.

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Thomas Powell shifted uncomfortably in his chair, hoping his wife Lorraine would not notice his restlessness. No matter how hard he tried to avert his gaze, his eyes were continually drawn to the image in the backyard. But it was not the slight tilt of his head that was required to capture the desired sightline that was the cause of his stirring - it was the effect that the vision before him was having on him.

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The year was 1921. Flappers were fashionable, but I was not. I was a lowly farm girl who had just pricked her finger on a needle whilst trying to mend a skirt that she wore to church. We only had a few sets of clothes in those days, you know, and I had ripped my skirt on a thornbush walking home after Sunday service. So I had to mend it.

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I had made friends with Stacy and Greg at the gym I go to. Stacy caught my eye the very first time I saw her. She had a vibrant, mischievous energy about her. And her body was spectacular. She stood 5' 8" and was beautifully curvy. Strong and sexy she had 37" hips a 29" waist and a stunning, bouncy pair of natural 38 DD breasts that got my cock hard just looking at them.

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It had been six years since we had graduated from college, and for the first time since graduation, all three of us were together again. From the enthusiastic hugs at the airport and then the conversation and laughter during the dinner we shared at a local restaurant on the way to my home, it was clear that while plenty of time had passed and we had kept in contact, the comfort and attraction between the three of us when all together in the same physical location was still undeniable.

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Megan was about to begin her Freshman year at a State University in the Upper Midwest. She chose this campus for a lot of reasons. It was located on a big, beautiful lake. Megan loved to canoe and here she could canoe every afternoon, if she wished. The psychology department was said to be outstanding and Megan intended to be a psych major.

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Jill walked into the darken picture theatre, feeling lonely and a bit lost. She'd just had a fight with her boyfriend and was feeling pissed off. Once again, they'd made love, and once again, he'd left her high and dry. When they'd first met, he had been a wonderful lover, always making sure that she'd had an orgasm.

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Prince Reiven fumed with rage. His father had no right to force him into marriage...and with a female, no less. The dark elves had long since been able to choose the sex of their mates freely, technology assuring that every couple could procreate a child no matter the sex of the parents.

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I felt guilt-ridden, taking pleasure from staring at the cute guy's cock. In any case, I reasoned, it was his own fault for wearing a wide-legged, boxer-style swimsuit; and therefore, I was entitled to continue admiring his jewels with impunity.

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I'm so done with this school, with these ridiculous uniforms and my jackass classmates trying to look up my skirt and down my shirt. (Who picked these clothes? I mean the skirt is halfway up the thighs for god's sake. And these shirts must have been designed for girls who, well, didn't develop as early and as, uh, fully as me - which, trust me, is not all it's cracked up to be, big tits are huge pain even in clothes that weren't poorly designed for someone a lot _smaller_.

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