Your erotic stories

Walt was home on leave after his two year tour of duty in Naples, Italy. He had joined the Marines after high school and reported to Parris Island for boot camp in the summer of 1959. After ITR training at Camp Lejeune he was shipped off via MSTS to his first duty station. On the route to Naples the ship made a few stops at Ports of Call, one of them being Barcelona, Spain. It was there that Walt lost his virginity to a pretty Spanish working girl. He had spent nearly three hours with her and he had learned more in that span of time then he would have imagined. He returned to the ship that night with the smile of a cat that just ate the canary.

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How did I know they were one person? Or two people? The distinction is still unclear to me. Really, they were both at the same time. I met Lily first. She was striking in her beauty. She was in my anthropology course, I saw her sitting in the middle of the lecture hall. She wasn't tall, just 5'3", but her body was perfectly proportioned to her.

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The hours were passing by as fast as molasses. James sat there listening to some underling drone on and on about the approaching conference. "So, if all goes well I'll be checking out that vista from that vacant 14th floor office, huh, Mr. Jeffers?" Edward stared into James' expressionless ocean-like eyes.

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IT was a typical Midwest high school in the late 1970's but what happened there could have as easily happened just yesterday. There were the usual Friday night football games and dances. There were several sub-groups within the school; you know the nerds, the jocks, the druggies, preppies, and most of all the rest of the kids who tried just to get by.

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"Oh yes, unh, yes, we can do that, uhh, sure, tomorrow, ahh, three thirty, uhh, okay, see you then, uhhh...Mariss' you lil' devil!" Andrea Vaughn snapped the phone shut and slid forward in her high backed leather chair. It had become increasingly difficult to discuss terms with a potential advertiser while her lover/partner was between her legs licking her pussy.

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He's sitting on the train, in a forwards facing seat, an uneventful trip as usual. It's not too crowded, he's managed to find a seat on his own, not having to press up against some old woman or smelly youth. There are several seats vacant in the train now as the journey continues. He casts an eye around the train, nobody of interest catches his eye so he returns to his book, trying to concentrate on it and getting lost in the music pumping through the earphones of his Ipod.

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PART I I let Michael move into my house because I needed to offset some bills, thus share the rent. He was a long-term friend, someone who I thought I could live with. He had a good job, and nice stuff... a bonus. Plus, there was something about him... something I couldn't put my finger on, but he had an effect on me that I could not explain.

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It started with Sasha. I met her online in a chat room and we hit it off and have been having very sensual role playing scenarios and just hot erotic conversations about various aspects of sex ever since. She is an extremely sensual erotic woman and her descriptions of her body make my mind work overtime producing fantasies and images. After a while, I learned she had a roommate that was equally into role playing named Nikki.

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First, let me start by saying that up until the events in this story, I was, by most accounts, a prude. I mean, sure, I had had lovers growing up, and I was by no means timid in bed. But I was raised by very stern parents who advised me that my body was mine and mine alone and I should only give it willingly to someone who loved me and treated me as I deserved to be treated.

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Although Jo took Ann to the same area several more times following their encounter with the voyeur, the man never reappeared. At least, not physically. But he remained vivid in Ann's imagination. At home, Roger's attentions continued to be spasmodic and unsatisfying, and while meetings of the Friday Flower Club, supplemented by private sessions with Jo, delivered orgasms of varied intensity, Ann was growing conscious of something missing.

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